donate to ya boy

Saturday, July 16, 2011


Can you feel the revolt
its bubbling in that brain of ours
the scars on my forehead and across these walls
maps of terror
my fair warnings are not glaring
but a gloss I wish to never give away
be still
my silent majority
our time is awake
its growing like the second sight of the aim
in the bane of truth
there will be gain
but order is do.
I feel as though theres a comfort in moments of solitude
otherwise complete ambiguity
flasks passed over last wishes
graveyards filled with confetti.
id be copesetic if my rederic wasnt heady
but in the trophophosphere is where I find my headaches
explaning an e8 lead group to men of such planes
commercial desires.
galactic spirals
the only reason I feel like a child when I close my eyeballs
an only shit from a family of lunatics
but I took it to the boxcars
knocked around a few parking lots
never narced
now intellectually sparr as if life was a chess board
my jaws warn,
but its just warmin up
I cant let it spoil this come down
so I pay my dues and know when to bow out
say my goodbyes and pay my associates off
so rounds dont come ground this hound
it gets real out here,theres no other way to relate
youll find yourself being a rab lat for fast cash
spazzed out surrounded by haz mat with broken english
scraping up a muffled:relax
well,somthing to that effect
,I hope this isnt what health class was about when I was looking in the courtyard
dreaming of high school breasts.
I hope my throat will be at its best when I march to every capital city with a mouth full of half hazardous gaps of knowledge and the balls to say it all
a soul in diamond fissures and visions
hands dipped in rat traps and scissors
and my seizure riddled in spats of gratitude
who knows what tomorrow will bring
maybe hand gernades
maybe a wedding ring
as for me Ill wait around awkwardly and meditate
praying to buddahallahvishnujesussatanyahweahthefonzand...THE...OHIOSTATE
that I at least!
get laid before judgement day.

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