I GOT AN AXE & A HILLBILLY BUT WE BIT THE DUST ANYWAYS
Wounded elbows and both knees, crippled by the arrowheads & buckshot lead
Never advised of the pain and suffering involved in a shoot out until you’re dead
If you survive the wounds intrusion into your oneness, extremely sublime above
Where wise men and fools fear to go, 8 miles higher than you recall, flyin’ dove.
No wingman on the solo flight from ground control and the radio silence rules
All alone in or out of the dream’s natural flow, from volcano’s snow too cool
Froze the gas, the water and kept far away from fire which annihilates what is
Clothed or naked apes make no difference, Platonic or Marxist, all that Fizzled.
Elevator operator let me down a million times a day, fully furnished face lifts
Born younger than the zygotic homeless, penniless peons on gravehard shifts
Abounding confidence in the false narratives leftover archangels who had sang
Wavelengths of seraphim spaces of Infinity, seraphim around a whole shebang.
Liberty from the gravitational collapse of the myriad of Truths & smoked pine
Way down below like there was no tomorrow, never a yesterday, just a sign
Of the cross, on head, solar plexi, shoulder wings, hands up, hand me downs
Hidee high an hide the hoes in Mary’s Garden of flowers, high off the grounds.
Jelly roll storm of sugar and sunshine, out of the witch’s oven, it ain’t your foes
It’s friends made between the epic eons, demon sequences like One, right here
Events to forget just like faked events already forgotten from all trumpet blows
Done featured my self with the creatures out of control, a random psycho-fear.
Loaves of bread falling out of control from outer space above and below us all
Why is the question, who feeds the helpless and hopeless down after the Fall
Foo fighters come in and out our lives, on the middle fork of the Tri-State’s pike
Friends look like they’re all mortals, all gonna die like me, Matter-Time hot-mic.
For what the butter is worth, the cow’s production, iced cream, yogurt, ½ & ½
Meeting at the Origin or the End of the line is the same thing, teats-up cow’s calf
Dream where you wake up before it’s all over, know it’s gonna wait a minute to
Be over forever, all the star dirt self-satisfied with the self’s worth, stoned blue.
Billy never did live on planetary Earth, wild comic book tales of a hero & villain
Idiots & their moronic offspring moving concepts into the vortex of night moves
You know where I’m comin’ from, you know the score, no accessible kid’s gloves
Haunted on a witch’s spell’s wish to terminate the ballerinas & the fugly braves.
Cancers deleted in the DNA/RNA acids’ holy codes, random evolution’s products
Recombined for no reason, extinct for no reason, hungry and eaten, a dumb-fox
Met you and you met me too, forgive me for forgetting your face, all half breeds
Smokin’ candles and leaves of the grass grown from scratch mutations of seeds.
On no coast of any continental drift, seven, six or eight, just Babylon rockin’ ‘em
People without wing things, good & plenty for all, no robes to wear, haven funk
Red robin singin’ to the one to synch-up the seed & egg of mortal synchro-punk
Problem solved, giddy-up with horses & money balls’ flask bottles of #151 rum.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Samedi, January XIVth, MMXXIII @ 711 AMPST
{Concocted from the Void while listenin’ to @VanMorrison #ProtectorOfAngels link @ https://youtu.be/H_oVTgYBQRU}
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?