Schematic Pro Defining Matrix Parameters #DoubleBubble #TwoTightToTwist #STYX rocked last nigh!

GOT A BLISTER ON THIS FINGER,

208 BONES TO FLIP IT

- -3- -

Hard on the eyes to see within the middle of one another’s souls, regardless of WW III

Returning the Earth to the cosmic soup of empty space, asteroids in another orbital belt

Memories can’t be remembered at the distant horizon, it all mattered, holy trinity three

Trust is belief sacrosanct between friends & associates who allow switchin’ to up & welt.

Wounds open, oozing blood & beer because I’d been drinkin’ 24/7 for a week, I’m in synch

With the floor or a bed if I can locate one to crash into the pillow for a day, don’t try to wink

You did it, I did it back, I’m metabolizing the energy & I am dreaming that you’re a hot ghost

Not a word out of you, just your shape & form, a scent of a woman, like cocoa pop the most.

Hell below where we’re all gonna go since there’s no choice for old or new souls above it all

Above the atmosphere with or without you or any other company to watch flank and back

You are the regiment, the Company B young chicks, bless their little hearts & blown out abs

Tooting eight to the bar with the rhythm and blues of the strings and skin, wind and brass.

In the fixed games that nobody wins unless you know the bookie, I’ve cashed in on a booty

Blown in & out of the continent up to the detached tundra that nobody wants in the iced tea

Maneaters and the places they deposit the refused matter, outhouse on the rear poop’s kicks

High as a mountain rises above a place closest to the Earth’s core, dried up H2O, left no licks.

With or without you about three or two doors down, I still see the light, it’ll never blackout

No offending you since you’ve got the all-star defense that pushes the balls to safety’s doubt

Jock-strapped for the impact to careen off the one or two balls you’ve gleaned from yo’ mama

Yes, yo’ mama, the lady who helped spawn you into the void’s dreamboat, you und me, papa!

Without love, it’s hopeless because charity is required to help the species survive the hostility

Air & sea, a deadly combination for Life & Death expressed in finite moving pictures, run ditty

V is for victory, winning is not everything, it’s the only thing & I wouldn’t lie to you, WORDsup

Country no bigger than a speck if you get lucky & see it from a moon, God is all, so Way Gone.

Better to become One than to divide into an infinite set of pieces in microscopic form, all gone

Nothing left over without something to observe it, blind eyes still see within, deaf ears hear it

Tasting, smelling & touching all representations of how close the host is to fun or foul play kid

Evil and bad boys and girls, once punished with corporality become wasted, spoiled human Id.

Known that the unknown is the sacred one, nothing more or less than absence of atoms’ ID’s

Fish in a pond, bad, fish in the sea, good, be the fisherman for mankind, trouble hook the bait

Don’t cast too far nor too close to the boat, lay it down just right, see the bite & jumpin’ head

Trout or salmon to be fooled into snagging flies or trick-bait on a hook, ne’er getting’ released.

A middle finger gets a whip cracked upon thin skin and bones made out of chalk & sawdust

In the best way possible, everything has been predeterred from work and play of the dead

Pills and smoke, serum & mental masturbation in the light of the deep darkness’ Void hole

Making one out of two, combination in perpetual coincidence, random sequencing infinite.

Knocking you out in the final round of the match, a fifteen round, winner takes all on a TKO

Debonair and secure as I am, don’t need paradise today or tomorrow, I left there last century

It was an hostile environment now doubling up on the pressure, it’s leaking out the loose lips

Soon, Word Up finds this here & that there, all of it, art of the deal, it’s as good as it ever gets.

Bifurcation is tantamount to dividing and conquering the mass of sprawling junk in the yard

Literally keeping track of nothing like a train on steel wheels, hitting the ground sprinting hard

Didn’t know my wind wouldn’t last more than a ¼ lap in combat boots, boogie woogie battle

Man, oh man, three years, 9 mos. & 27 jours, out with a benefit, BA out of UW, Seattle.

Uncle Sam & Aunt Gert gave up the ghost before they could get docked on a wharf

Fear for an unfortunate loathing that the DNA allows, transmit the one’s holy s#its

One mitotic divide away from God & the annihilation of this solar system’s Dwarf

Madness would result hence, the hidden Truth only known via logic & reason chits.

It will be fine in several hundred minutes, just wait, you’ll see the light in the darkness

Away from the sound & fury where the gentle silence of the unrung bell, I must confess

All my fault for the whole shebang, Big Banging a Silent Squeak, man-gods be damned

Hercules needed Zeus to become, You All need Nothing, you came out a womb, BAM!

by

r j j stephan, i

c.  Vendredi, April XXV^th MMXXV Anno Domini @ 444 PMPST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to @SteelyDan #Gaucho side-A vinyl link @ https://youtu.be/XffMNIN9FVo?si=eQ7YWutUvt7OiaWC&t=2 } 

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.