Validity of the argument to prove that all are more than random egg pods
All defined as every living reproduction of the original Big Bang of the gods
Whether you have hair on your legs or not, you are as you’ve always been
A tool of the consciousness inherited by accidents and rapes of the unseen.
Collaborate and empower the survivors of your pending doom, dirt atrophy
Burned out Big Bang cinders, consolidated in an inside out nucleus of grime
I got whacked in the head near the Mississippi River in 1969 or was it 1970
Either way, the yet unformed mind gravitated toward an aloof approachee.
Event happened, the space occupied by the crowd in a moment, vacated Oz
Mayhem too close for comfort, word down, word up your weed growth seize
How they hit the pipe, nobody knows, we believe it was ingested, yes please
Linguistic critical theory of what an idiot is intrinsically, reveals you morons.
Casting aspersions to encapsulate the mental illness you assimilated in school
If you excelled and graduated, you grew & retired until you became the fool
As programmed, you have no choice yet pretend to have the free will to do it
Yet, you’re headed to The End you’ve all aimed for, heavenly hell & #TheShyt.
Sore joints, rock X-joints, hung out in joints, nailed joists to reroll pin joints
All or none above becomes a faded echo you hear no longer, all my points
Sweet rolls smelt like sugar burnt at dawn, cotton candy, red & white-blue
Junkies pushin’ the junk, bums hangin’ on for dear life, sleepin’ on the rue.
Discourse & dialogue remains all hush-money campaign violation, undeclared
Body-Political friends and enemies of democracy & republicanism will be dead
One day we’ll know, it’ll be no surprise, who would’ve thought it’d happen then
It comes, you’ll go, we’ll all go, our lives were entangled in a single one, in vain.
Who gives more than the last breath at the end of the game, life, death is caput
Wind, the motion of the ocean & the blackness of Whitey, sleepin’ on concrete
In front of a free enterprise, allowed bums and junkies to stay alive with wrath
Epidemic of a pandemic education of high schoolers who never studied Math.
Brakes stopped the night moves and the daydreams, accelerated what’s woken
Humans began as boys & girls, evolved into the workers & the sap sucker broken
Professionally just an amateur beginning a trip overdrive the cattle to slaughter
Where’s the beef, the cache, the loose change or daddy’s only virgin daughter?
Barter for the daily bread, pray to invisible gods that you’ll be favored not to die
In a gutter, near the curb, around back in the alley, rats & men’s mice of 3.14 pi
Calculated solutions to the pending doom, the early or the late show bedrocks
I’m in the Void’s house, a Wild West accordion solo, oh mama, love’s 3 lockbox.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Vendredi, 3-31-2023 Anno Domini @ 777 AMPST
{ Drafted while jammin’ to @JohnMellencamp vital crooning @ https://youtu.be/nF9Dx8AvfeQ }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?
All defined as every living reproduction of the original Big Bang of the gods
Whether you have hair on your legs or not, you are as you’ve always been
A tool of the consciousness inherited by accidents and rapes of the unseen.
Collaborate and empower the survivors of your pending doom, dirt atrophy
Burned out Big Bang cinders, consolidated in an inside out nucleus of grime
I got whacked in the head near the Mississippi River in 1969 or was it 1970
Either way, the yet unformed mind gravitated toward an aloof approachee.
Event happened, the space occupied by the crowd in a moment, vacated Oz
Mayhem too close for comfort, word down, word up your weed growth seize
How they hit the pipe, nobody knows, we believe it was ingested, yes please
Linguistic critical theory of what an idiot is intrinsically, reveals you morons.
Casting aspersions to encapsulate the mental illness you assimilated in school
If you excelled and graduated, you grew & retired until you became the fool
As programmed, you have no choice yet pretend to have the free will to do it
Yet, you’re headed to The End you’ve all aimed for, heavenly hell & #TheShyt.
Sore joints, rock X-joints, hung out in joints, nailed joists to reroll pin joints
All or none above becomes a faded echo you hear no longer, all my points
Sweet rolls smelt like sugar burnt at dawn, cotton candy, red & white-blue
Junkies pushin’ the junk, bums hangin’ on for dear life, sleepin’ on the rue.
Discourse & dialogue remains all hush-money campaign violation, undeclared
Body-Political friends and enemies of democracy & republicanism will be dead
One day we’ll know, it’ll be no surprise, who would’ve thought it’d happen then
It comes, you’ll go, we’ll all go, our lives were entangled in a single one, in vain.
Who gives more than the last breath at the end of the game, life, death is caput
Wind, the motion of the ocean & the blackness of Whitey, sleepin’ on concrete
In front of a free enterprise, allowed bums and junkies to stay alive with wrath
Epidemic of a pandemic education of high schoolers who never studied Math.
Brakes stopped the night moves and the daydreams, accelerated what’s woken
Humans began as boys & girls, evolved into the workers & the sap sucker broken
Professionally just an amateur beginning a trip overdrive the cattle to slaughter
Where’s the beef, the cache, the loose change or daddy’s only virgin daughter?
Barter for the daily bread, pray to invisible gods that you’ll be favored not to die
In a gutter, near the curb, around back in the alley, rats & men’s mice of 3.14 pi
Calculated solutions to the pending doom, the early or the late show bedrocks
I’m in the Void’s house, a Wild West accordion solo, oh mama, love’s 3 lockbox.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Vendredi, 3-31-2023 Anno Domini @ 777 AMPST
{ Drafted while jammin’ to @JohnMellencamp vital crooning @ https://youtu.be/nF9Dx8AvfeQ }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?
