#RideABike #GroundHogDay #TrumpDump #SCUDmissilissimo #BICYCLE

WE GOT YOU, NO WE DON’T

sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

I have a hard T-bone of contention & it’s needing to stroke the joke, you’re in or you’re out
Fine lines ‘tween the words, phrases, sentences, paragraphs, chapters and volumes of scat

Leftovers that nobody could eat, nobody wanted to eat, nobody died from & love’s leftover
Sloppy seconds, thirds, fourths & fractions thereof, it’s a matter of species’ extinction lore.

Someone evolved the theory of what happened before the Soul entered the Body god bust

It wasn’t me but I can assume the worst, you are either brain damaged or you’re a moron

Rain barrel stilletto bangin’ it rusty but you don’t realize it, dipstick survived extinction’s Six

Just in case your love in this world turns to dust, just recall we’re all turnin’ to fairies’ dust.

 
Hilltops and bottomless pits of our terrestrial stage, nothing is above, nothing is below us all

Look up at the sky before you die, unless you’re blind, deaf & dumbfounded by the high light

Ultraviolet to infrared and in between those frequencies of broken down wavelengths’ pall

Bearing everything inadvertently around my neck, inside of my DNA, fightin’ for the right.

Shut your dog’s bark down or you’ll get the dog catcher syndrome down your smokin’ pipe

Yeah, you know you hide inside underneath your inner blanket that covers your naked tripe

Brains to metatarsals, the species pulled off the escape from the inevitable result, murder
She wrote about it, I read about it, now you know about it, Space married my dirty mother.

If this was a movie, it could be a rerun or it might be a premier of the Pulitzer Prize of bread

Thousands of Benjamins for us all, the taxwoman is in charge of the falling short on a thread

Off to debtors prison, hand over the keys to your hut, your car & fake news on the AM radio
Punks used to be innocent babies, ruined by brothers who suck and all big sisters who blow.

Attraction to the roller coaster going up, down, darting left & right, jerking the bones around

After the ride, the world is still the same but the innards of the thing that’s me, hit the ground

Walking or running can’t be chosen, we’ve got to crawl on the belly, like a rattlesnake can go
Gotta whistle while you work, slither ahead, shed your skin, mustachioed lips together & blow.

You don’t want to die, right? Is death even on your radar in California? Or Florida or Maine?
I didn’t think so, so, I think, therefore I am, it’s a french thing from centuries ago, oh the pain
Substance and the forms it takes is all there is, this is reality, plane of existence, all too human
Opposite of what’s happening happens sometimes, it’s a fluid swing of Hard liquor, shots Man!

All good gods blow & bad gods row, row, row the the boat gently or briskly downstream
The Long Game is you live to about a hundred years old, that’s called my game, winning
Short game is you expire accidentally, unexpectedly just like when you’re old as the dirt
Six feet of which you’ll be bound beneath, in a casket to keep filth out of your polo shirt.

Sustenance to keep the air moving in and out of your ears, helping your deaf ass expire
Perfect or not, I’ll die when I die, you will too, what can you do? Nothing, I’m all on fire
For Love, for Silence of animals & the Hum of plants, above & below you will annihilate
All you’ve known & all you’ll know down the road, It Is Life, it’s what all the people said!

by
r j j stephan, i

c. Mardi, June 13th 2023 Anno Domini @ 777 AMPST
{ Jammed my memory @77SunSetStrip bled out a link @ https://youtu.be/BEtCZ0xssXQ }

F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?