SERIOUSLY?
Hurricanes and twisters caused a counter-evolution of dirt on Earth’s surfaceFound behind a tree underneath deep roots where the sun doesn’t save face
Looking into the black, inner world that cancels culture & the light of the moon
The Kid knows it all, everything, who, what, why, where now ahoy swabbies!
Hillbillies playing the welfare system just like the millennials & bicentennials
Baby boomers are nearly spent, they’re gonna dare to leave the weak alone
They cannot read language, they cannot count numbers or solve equations
Of unknowns, of course & the obviously known, no extra sensory perceptions.
I shook the cherry tree and got enough for three pies ready to pop into the kiln
Can’t be anything like mother’s pie, it’s gotta be better, maybe twice as good
All in the mind, through the path of doors to perception & feedback of illusion
What you think you are, that’s all you’ll ever be, keep it in mind for certainty.
Points of the Singularity in your deep, black hole appear to be monster mash
Buried more or less in time to avoid the foul odor of death, costs 10-20 g’s cash
Remains go & come in a financial option, give up all of your value, underground
Above & below my station of this iron cross, makin’ the sign of the cross’ sound.
All of my ancestors are mostly dead & gone, very few even recognize my kin-face
Lookin’ like a cross between rolling stones names Ma & Pa, all red leather & lace
I’m kind of a Maserati shuffled into an American, second city pedigree of human
A machine, hot off of the production line, ready to go, pedal to the metal if I can.
Oh it’s goin’ over 135 now, not even shakin’ yet, there it goes, we do back flips
Flip, flipped on the helicopter transformer, the gyro up righted the cabin’s dips
Now I’m doin’ 40 nots & it won’t be long until the invisible pad rises to meet me
At an undisclosed location where the sun don’t shine, no star power down low.
Cowards and fake heroes mixed up the eggs in the Easter basket, I hunt for eggs
At one with them somewhere, near or far, living or soon to be alive, ice Hot Legs
Monsoons and deserts too arid to live on cacti and scorpions, what mama said
She repeated it a few times, “Love to spare, makes you a billionaire,” but dead.
Never fret the tiny concerns dropped into your lap, they had to land somewhere
Analyze the need, the desire & then intend that into the power grid atmosphere
Like a purple magician or a distortion of the mind’s hallucination, full immersion
Slipped on black ice, fell on my head, I forget who I am, what I said, begin again.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, June XXIth, MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 1404 hours PST
Like a purple magician or a distortion of the mind’s hallucination, full immersion
Slipped on black ice, fell on my head, I forget who I am, what I said, begin again.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, June XXIth, MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 1404 hours PST
{ Drafted as I listened to @Tom_Petty (RIP) on youTube link @https://youtu.be/1lWJXDG2i0A }
W.W.A.R.D.?
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