besides a raging stormswept savage berserker barbarian
battle beastly warrior poet and real life documentarian?
yeah.
what else?
ummm.
the kind of guy who tries to win you over?
yuuuuuup.
the kind of guy who makes love 'cause he's in it?
uh-huh.
i want all that stupid old sh!t.
real talk.
awwwwwwwwwww, man!
that's right, mutha-lickers.
hopeless.
romantic.
sometimes both at the same time.....
*
who knows where to find eagles' eggs, neighbors?
just sayin',
i'm trying to WIN.
i'm tired of getting paid to lose.
i guess i need those mutha-flippin' nutrients!
i hope that there are some vegan-type rainbow aguila activators
in the copious cups of after-dinner expertism
that i pursue like a bounty huntin' barbarian of
sugar-water-iceburn magic and glycemic index overkill.
some coatl coated candy dots that doo-doo
that eleventh-level business when it's time to get busy.
y'heard?
i'll keep eating it, day after day after day,
because i'm ready to soar, son.
i believe in sprankles if nothing else .
powered up and pushing off the tippity-top rope-
flying facefirst across the universe,
or hurtling headlong into oblivion,
as long as the end result is victory...i'm there.
yeah,
so i had a saturday night all by my lonely,
that's right.
-and what?
i still had a date with two duders, though.
you know 'em- ben, & jerry, too.
teleport the mango sorbet elite treats:
and still what i need.
i need to reassemble the particles and articles
on constitutional reconstitution.
the organs grinding for alms inside me agree.
the secret ingredient is being withheld for now,
but the universal stratospheric interference stratagem
will have to reveal it eventually.
that's when the sh!t'll really get poppin'.
until that time, however,
it's spranks, ninjas.
in the sincere disillusioned hope
that every single solitary spin of the sphere,
each and every complete revolution,
every concentric circle of thoughts, spirit, and memory
is THE day.
(*spoiler alert- it's not really working out)
***********
speaking of missing ingredients and missing out-
too much liz phair over a two week period can
upset delicate ecosystems within the heart-mind biosphere.
i mean it.
...........
hard styles and sad songs:
the license said you had to stick around until i was dead,
but if you're tired of looking at my face,
i guess i already am;
never quiet, never soft.....
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