intuit

spring,hail,sleet,snow,July turn December
these blistered fingers are hook,line & zinger
got me into the dialogue like Maury/Wilkos/Springer....preacher with a heater
digg & get the meter,
meteor shower type word reader at his zenith
word of mouth come up on the lowkey parade of leachers
watch as I spin this art & your soul is reached...
due to me,naw,im simply out in the streets
fuckin up towns
demanding clout,stringing bleeps....you
your just in your hometown
complaing about how you never get
out.
me
I see all sorts of things
like passion in the rain
or blood stains on the audomin
inaudible gargalling from my followers
because no man deseves
all
this.
and I barely have 60.00 dollars to my dick
being that its almost winter
I should dip south & dissapear for a bit
but Im way to proud to
so Ill just sit still and
omit
every single word I ever conjured in the cauldron I call
concience
intuit/
post modern DADA
realisim with a hint of not giving a fucking
shit.