#WickedMothers #BegottenNunsSistersDaughtersMothers #ParFour #CourseMaui #DavesNotHereEither

IX – uno – UNO

Seems as if you’ve gone off of the deep end, you know It, depth of point of no return
When the mid-space you’ve carved out of Time you don’t own has collapsed to graft
Getting chit all free from Tierra del Fuego to CUNY campus hub, grifters' magneto
Knowing nothing about your mind or soul, just 208 bones humans inherit to go.

By the time I got to the stones, I began workin’ the angle to cheat the stupid MFs
Creeps you have to be near, disturbing your feng shitake noire, you’re the Fathers
Mothers could not scam fathers more easily, all sisters, daughters & wicked aunts
There’s a scam goin’ on in the racket, pretending to be One when you’re all none.

It’s survival of the Dostoevsky moron who plays the idiot, neat package gods’ fate
Who will prick up the other men’s sisters & wives, every angle of a female bum
They have their teeth and smile, all there is in the mob is the boss & the racket scum
Clip a buck here & a buck there, gain the trust, work the angle, it’s your auntie great.

Here’s your dilemma of whether you should stay or go, you have no choice, MOVE IN
What’s the angle, you want the right one, the obtuse or less than 90 to 1 degree of sin
Meaning your foolish trip from conception & birth led to my path, your fork in the road
TNT ain’t dynamite as you suspected but it will blow your bubble into the origin’s load.

We ain’t from Earth but our creators came to tell all of the grifters the code to the system
Buying the morons and idiots scam, you will turn on your friend & ghost the rest of them
Give me your wallet & #’s so I can trust you, am I mistaken or accurately calculating sums
It’s all the same in the end, the final curtain will fall for certain, no negotiation, possums.

Asleep while wide awake only means your attention has been arrested by propositions
At once logical & theoretical, no proof beyond a doubt that anything is true, #Vince man
Appreciate your position on a lifeline from zero to infinity, nobody gets outta here alive
Hope for genetic perfection, immunity to foreign viral agents and somebody to love.

Keep this too close to the vest, you know what I know & you know it all, y’all know you do
So, without further ado, let’s leave for Kokomo, way down there in Montserrat’s mystique
Catching a glimpse or two of the places in Space where it all goes down, as high as a gad fly
You all need to meet me for coffee, tea and the rest of the things you don’t care for, I’ll buy!

Leave baggage, empty on the beach, preconceived Key Largo, Aruba, Montego, Kokomo, all done
Neither yesterday nor the day before, frequency-waves & a rip tide went below gravity’s sand dunes
Before you’re ash & dust dissolves into a matrix, I want you to know it’s where I wanted you to go
Long time, short time, anytime you think about it, know you got two lips to kiss, in downlow blow.

You know epistemologically, credit devolved into deficit & you’re dead weight for nuclear waste
They cannot perfect chemistry or provide a catalyst for extinction of the species’ DNA post haste
Before the End allows natural selection to resume its ascent into the top of the food chain, has-beens
Heck & high water more love than you can hate without a dish rag or rally towel, you morons fix it.

Luck has nothing to do with being in the right place at the right time, unknown nothing relativities
To alpha & omega, your language has done you an injustice with subjective predicate spelling bees
Barroom brawls all ended as they began, broke glass cuts, outlaws won fights some fought & died
Winning was everything after all, you don’t mind running your mouth further than your legs fly, eh?

Contact high on fools below my face, five to six feet above underground, rocks rollin’ away, Hole
Left there in the bottom of the mountain of gold hill, where gods stashed pages I read, stay calm son

 If I was either on edge or at least appeared to be intensely psyched up where a man survives alone 

Like blasting off to another planet, you’ve no choice but to thrust away from the ground’s holy zero.

I won’t leave too soon & never be late, allow me to choose Liberty rather than being all too human
Retired from the good luck of poison pens which wrote words that washed away the old Peter Pan
It’s too fine, in the end, it all goes the way it should, until a Black Hole resumes the DNA transition
Into the void place where y’all want to go, down in cool Kokomo now, be a subatomic soul, son!

 

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, ROCKTOBER XXVIIth, MMXXIV Anno Domini @222 PMPST

{ Fried some cells in the cerebral cortex, reason for rhyme, @ThePointerSisters #FIRE in a loop, youTube link @  https://youtu.be/ZBtAiwNcsiA }

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

FOOLS' COMEDY, GENIUS' TRAGEDY