HALLOWEEN WITH A F.N.G., #FAKE
Why do you have to use that language? You are never going to amount to squat or anything
Nobody you know will ever be more than the bugs moving along firelines of all my incoming
It’s all around us, the jungle of weeds and concrete, sometimes mixed, monkeys or baboons
Punks and old seasoned, muddy combat boots in the brigade, all in C-company’s platoons.
Nobody home in the 1960’s, blew up the house there, stretched my skin into a Vietcong lamp
My skin stretched around an incandescent bulb that cost One day’s pay in a homeless camp
Moving around, baring the life you’ve got left yet hidden, silk underwear and a sheath of mud
Wet yet soon to be droplets of H2O carrying the COVid19 from rat to bat to mankind’s blood.
It is always one way or the other, there’s no other ways available, it’s either this or that there
What matters is that the energy doesn’t run out before you’re finished with your mission here
To be or not to be is a bit too easy to be all there is, all we need to be free of tyrants and fools
Death’ll come on time, like clockwork your food used to be ALIVE, God’s outhouse of booze.
Grandpas were cops and firemen, janitors and candy factory managers, now they’re all out
Of this world that we know and in the world we do not know, it’ll make you twist and shout
Just because you think you’re so pretty and so smart, it’s a bit of a chore to sleep while awake
Yet, I’ve mastered the chore, a skill of pretending to know when you don’t, I am, “The Fake!”
Gone in 60 seconds or a hundred years, either way from zygote to corpse, you’re in and out
Before you know you love it so much it’s snatched from your grasp, never to be a boy’s scout
Or girl scout, cub or brownie, all of the ways the boys and girls were snagged into the matrix
In an empty void of absolutely atomic neutrons, your will to Power becomes a dream in Styx.
Place in Space where cause and effect do not repeat in scientific experimentation fashion, Jin
In bottles washed up on a beach or in a jar buried under tons of burnt-star debris, tree grown
All there is here, now, is the remnants of the Big Bang’s millions of years old gold explosion
We call the gold God yet it’s still All in any case, Gold or God, a Supernova Singularity’s Sin.
Your mother and father, sisters and brothers all agree with the scree, nothing ventured OK?
No wasted energy going into the dead end avenues on every town on all seven continents hay
In a monster bon fire, all books and past written word on dead trees, ripped slices we’re fed
Like fire burned, Frankenstein’s life and death, a monster but we’re the Ones, we’re all dead!
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, ROCKTOBER 11TH, 2020 A.D. @ 11:11 AMPST
{ Drafted while jammin’ to Rufusband Chaka Khan #SweetThang & HITS link @ https://youtu.be/ZLaj4VMQfxc }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
