#ricoSacto

Sunday, April 28, 2024

#WhereTheCountryGirlsAt #CombatCowboyBoots #StickAPinInAMap

Sipping slowly, mahalo mothers
Up & down home pretty with the only things that matter, my seven daughters’ of mamasans
In a high recipe for the recreation of the wheel that rolls downhill until the end time of reruns
Runnin’ ‘round a whole life from beginning to end just because you need to know why it lies
All about the true meaning of living & making it to the top of the heap of gold & super flies.

Heavy or light-hearted means nothing once the spin stops, don’t Matter in Space, so I moved
As above, so it is below, nothing at all happens without having an effect except One Thing said
Somebody told me what was neo-funky about the vinyl & celluloid until I heard the cool teach
Smack dive bar in the middle of town, ya know Alabama Red, Tennessee Wild, Georgia Peach.

Makin’ a whole pie out of a 3.14, it can’t be all there is to the piece of pi I’m tryin’ to get gone
I need to move quickly on the 64 squares of the slippery slopes, epicenter of the empire’s loan
Gave a spark in the soul to animate 208 bones, out of the blue & black, dunce to genius minds
City crowd & country wide east to west, north to south, dried up land of rivers’ lakes & mines.

Stay with me until the last jump on the high dive board, gonna jackknife & crank a cannonball
All to show all girls how cool it is when I splash ‘em with my smackdown in the middle of that
They’ll wanna have my babies but I don’t know why, it’s a food stamp or welfare issue of Zen
Whether you like it or not, you’ll get moody and blue because you’ll miss me now and then.

There won’t be a return to the beginning, it is not the point of being alive, I see you hear me
Look at the squinting of eyes on the face & a smile or grimace either way, way of the frisbee
Thrown away from you on an angular tilt from the plane of parallel ground & blue sky aloft
It all makes no sense, it’s actually nonsense, yet survival remains the main function of Nott.

This Jack, a Jack Nott in the crowd of movers and shakers of the rabble of paupers who sleep
Awake in a dream yet in denial of the fact of life that the brief existence of Man is a woke joke
Laughing out loud or in a subtly vague tone to sneer at the suggestion of slapstick comedy folk
Humor’s the realization that Reality’s an absurdity without an equal, Life is indeed, but a joke.

Mass of the subatomic charm in the atom fulfills the divine, the all too humane of The Fable
You and I know nothing about it, someone has pretended to know, free or slave masonic tale
The Harbors between the red, white and blue seas are hostile & fortified by hard rock & stone
Stoned high as an arrow can fly without damage, bullets & cannonballs win it all, I’m so alone.

Lost Nothing when something appeared out of nowhere, I demand an explanation for the chit
In a kitty where everyone’s chit goes, it’s a country-girl, home-grown thang, hit me wit yer bit
Pitching the cheers for the alleviation of the fears about the unknown cause of extinction’s pie
Cut in equal portions of first four, then six & finally eight, all gone before the flowers up high.

Beans swallowed to line the belly with TNT my mama told me to watch out for, all a girl wants
It’s all that’s important, ask Adam, Moses, Martin L. King or Trump, smack me with débutantes 
All the primo beautiful representatives of the species at the party, dancing, drinking, in a mood to
Rockin’ the house wall to wall, ceiling to floor of the cellar, y’all stuck with the red wine brew.

I saw myself on the chrome before I took a scoot down-home lookin’ for all swingin’ blue jeans
Known what’s unknown was comin’ up the road, down or uptown wherever their 20 screens
Wisdom’s DNA swimming pool with infants & elders of millennia, all of ‘em down-home pretty
Recombination of flying objects in random directions, magnetized, unholy, divine power, me!

You got the shot in front of you, let your fist hand it to you, down the hatch, take it all home
It’s work but the play ain’t worth a lick unless you get the tax-free payoff, postmortem foam
You & your forefathers not to mention your descendant naked-ape relatives, all are The One
Same as it’s always been since the Big Bang, it’ll always be until stars call God, the only son.

Pitbull or junkyard bulldog ain’t a big thing to me, I guard my own with the S&W .357 load
Looked here and there for the 2nd amendment to the Constitution, everywhere on the map
Dropped a pin on the east and west, north and south, upper echelon echo of the third mode
Yesterday with the Daisy Dukes, tomorrow with the maternity jeans, all five kids got a slap.

Twenty-five years ago, I began & it’s ending’ just like this, love in a vacuum of dead radio air
Just a hiss, in one ear and out the other one, old school I’m never goin’ back to, I’m bein’ fair
Could have taken the retaliation of decades all gone, I’m sayin’ nothing, drop a pen on a map
Right there I’ll be, smack down in the middle of that pocket, drunk & offended, no pap slap.
by
r j j stephan, i

c.  Dimanche, 4-28-2024 AD  @ 111 PMPST

{ Blasted out the DRONE, while listenin’ to #WhereTheCountryGirlsAt?  On youTube #HitMeWithYerTwenty #DropAPinOnAMap link @ https://youtu.be/qBbTUw6dIpA?list=RDqBbTUw6dIpA }

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

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