Ribmeat Of The Family Tree

A Summer Asunder

3-21-05

A rampartorical binge
30 years long,
hot spiced Cajun
with an anecdotal black man,
a wee-man, a round man and me, man.
Rode close tight,
Excellent Point all night
"Hey Ladies" style
in a makeout bandit profile.
Is it worthwhile?

Moonlight kisses and knee-bends,
jumping off deep ends.
I have no friends just lazy trends.
Not the house party band, but the crashers,
droppin' pants over head thrashers,
thick thinking scratchers,
attracters and laughers.
Wait a minute?!
Who's mushin'? I'm pushin'
sentimental notes ambushin'
a heart,
not where the aorta starts
but more cerebral.
I'm lethal as she is lovely
not just above or in front of me.
My center runs close
my spirit knows.
I'm in love with this game,
ain't never changed,
just relaxin' my resumé for the hall of fame.

Closed quarters, no orders
but beer by the pound
and underground sounds.
Calls from around.
"Join us! You're ready!"
Anointing us while we lust;
imbibe we, we're not just,
not leaving yet until we take over.
Death awaits as we loot and plunder
another summer asunder.

Morning breaks another haze awakes
grammatically, insulting the English academy
with this anatomy
of words like a sanctuary.
Secondary never as thoughts too clever
six times over yours can't be severed.
Profound thinkers or barman poet drinkers
tell no lies amongst same sinners.
Wreak havoc of course, no remorse
or recollection
in bits or sections-
just details and credits.
Get it?
Stay low, say how
you know how.
Everything's alright, GOODNIGHT NOW!