#ricoSacto

Wednesday, September 13, 2023

#SoonerLATERnow #DevilsFoodDustyWordsUpFunk

DON’T KILL THE THINGS YOU LOVE, GOLD DUST
Funk from the deepest holes within human being bodies fills the atmosphere from core to stratosphere
You know what no one else fathoms, self-knowledge of One’s momentous death, can’t be a soul there
Upon the middle path you cannot return, no turning back to the origin in Time, it's all, way too humane
Pouring water in a pitcher or wine in a chalice to transubstantiate a body & blood of what it is, divine.

Bring the bread home, your family is hungry & waiting to visit a butcher shop’s putrid scrap dumpster
You should have thought about this before ya got jiggy with your honey, now in for a long haul’s road
Unpaved, dirt & pebbles, rocks & mud all leading to the peak, above & below everything in Outerspace
Dream fades, eyesight turns to black, a void increases it’s hold on our insight & eyesight’s unholy face.

Just checking to see if you can comprehend a notion of wisdom & knowledge imploding in cosmic dust
Know you ain’t dead yet, you’re still reading to understand this complex notion, life ain’t easy for us
Yet, one foot in front of the other unless you’re handicap-crippled from the DNA or accidental fit
Walk on brothers, it’s a creature feature & an attractive form of staying alive in a hostile environment.

As you were at ease, remain that way, stay the course from now until the meeting with the final gasp
Shock to come I’m sure, or else maybe absolutely nothing at all, in the form of a deep-sleep forever end
Just never wake up to express yourself ever again, write it down, memorialize it on a granite headstone
Etched into the rock, pin-needle grooves into the roll & the sharps & flats merge into a cantata to die for.

Marks all erased from the paper, script is blank & typed in English, French, Italian & German, funny
It’s blank so what’s the deal on typing nothing, can you make copies of that & create a new j-peg file
For posterity and a copy for my mother and father, I want a shot of whiskey & some beer for my horses
I’ll hit the trail again when the feeders are empty, sleepin’ under stars, no bunk, all dark matter forces.

Why do workers believe Unions are the intelligence of the mind’s economic demands, strike to death
Go ahead, one's oath to the people is sacrosanct, let’s hire scabs right now to replace the severe cuts
Getting the forces to lay-off the older & higher-paid employees, then hire new rookies as slavery sluts
That if you stay for so many years, you retire with a pension until you die, never happen, never forget.

It’s good, no it’s better than good, it’s the best ever since sliced bread, you don’t do a thing nice & easy
Complexity higher than it needs to be so that only One knows how the puzzle’s pieces fit in all places
Border to keep a mindful idea inside of the observation, surrounded by empty nothingness, that’s all
Now you know, tucked you in now, it’s academic on your destiny, keep breathing, until your downfall.

Saving my cash for the rainy day that'll come day AFTER I die, it’ll pay for the fading into the Blow
Leftover stuff of matter & energy, redistribution of that stealth wealth at the afterlife trading post depot
Gold and lead, silver and tin bowls to hold the cream of the crop, drink for the gods to fill the outback
Backyard or a condo patio to leave it all out there, don’t hold it in long, snort it down like green crack.

by

r j j stephan, i  

c. Mercredi, September XIII, MMXXIII Anno Domini 1500 hours
{ Crushed this out of the squeeze while listenin’ to #DevilsAndDust @BruceSpringsteen link @ https://youtu.be/bOZzJ3uC_1Q?si=ZUmsCzvZuhhNoVhx }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

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