#ricoSacto

Thursday, March 28, 2024

#WheresELMO? #ButAnyway #SloGin #GoodMorningVietNam #FadeAway #FaceTheFaxOfLife #RollingStones #CallTheBloodyGodsSneezingOozeOutSpace

LOVE YOU ALL OVER, OVER & OVER
 ad infinitum, ad nauseum
There is hardly one fat chance you’ll see this & even less likely you’ll give it a read
It’s nothing personal between you & me or me & you, all accidentally on purpose
Middle of the road nearly at a finish line, dynamo Race of mice and a man’s creed
Drunk on the fresh air again, commandments One through ten, I’m a half-breed.

Bums and junkies left over from the hey-day of the Hootie & a Hippie getting’ down too
Sister said that we would get down to “brass tacks” but I didn’t grasp the signal’s blue
Colored for effect on the invisible ghost of a spark, never live or dead just grim as @Ted
Holier than you ever were since it never existed in DNA like y’all, do not get me started.

Peasants all children who conceived from an original, mortal sin of coitus, come man!
On the other side of the curtain you & I cannot penetrate with knowledge-wisdom’s sin
One seed tree of Knowledge’s Good & Evil is the creator/reaper, not to be too humane
Open the book, start on page 1 & finish at the end’s blank page, then fly high in a plane.

Got noisy words comin’ in and out of the ear holes, now I’m gonna do some weird chit
Repeating mantras of what it is & will always be here & now during this trippin’ stitch
Drawn picture of where you’ll go when you lay down to die, can’t stand up comedy It
In casket or urn only if you’re lucky to have cash money or even my spare dime pitch.

Fools can’t breathe for free, they steal it from you & me, it’s the only way for the hobo
Could be your sister, brother, mother or father, aunt, uncle or maybe a distant cousin
Fun is out, it’s survival of the most fit to be here & now, shelter in place & BBQ, sip gin
You’ll be one that’s left over in the end, unlike country boys, idiots & morons survive.

I am drawing a line in the sand, you know it will disappear when the waves reappear
Cream is on the top because gravity cannot keep it under control, too rich to be fear
It’s a long way to the apex of this apparent somnambulistic appearance, I do imagine
All things seen, heard, smelled, tasted & touched with nuclear blow torch ICBM SIN.

You might be drawn like a magnet to the place you can sleep without one eye open
By the hot fire burning for warmth and signaling to the darkness to come so often
Like your mother and father who left you orphaned, on your own, all alone children
Be vicious, rough & ready for the necessary & sufficient tracking, pray is prey’s sin.

Now & then, you run across big words that mean more than the roar of my Charger
Here are some, more than one less than a million, for sure for sure, human martyr
Grown from a seed, spontaneously multiplying its own kind of program, red blood
RNA from a sun, Void out of nowhere, obligated drop of a dime on you & me, God!
 
by
r j j stephan, i

c. Jeudi, III-XXVIII-MMXXIV Anno Domini @ 3:00 AMPST
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