senses over matter in the garden of

senses over matter in the garden of
who do you love, (Bo), I treasure all
form of hither and art is just a three
letter word… what does it really matter
that all I get for my troubles is a bill from
the agency of contempt and swindle? - It's
not like I'm going to pay them. It's not
like I'll give in to their shenanigans or the
contract that comes with that. They can all
proverbially kiss my ass and smell the rim.

So what does the spouse espouse if I need to
forget it all and travel toward the light of my
following?? - Do I get points off my license?
Does the sum of the parts equal the greater
good of my life?? - Will I ever proceed toward
another revelation that can encompass all my
thoughts on complexity and moral ground to
say nothing of my robust groupie status???
- What's it gonna take this part of life that claims
victory in the face of abject puzzlements????

Whose in control here, them or us? - Who gets to
get their parking ticket validated at the courtesy
desk of universal mensch-ness????????? - Have
my questions become more of a trademark than my
trial of aforementioned pigtails in the heat of that
summer school and while my pencil box gets robbed
by boys who don't necessarily need but need to
have the empowerment trip that I won't deny them
because, shit, they took my pencil box...






 
This is the true stuff of life in the trenches as the
train whistles blow for all my later sanities and
what I hold dear to my sweat and lustre as we
merrily roll along toward the end of this sphere
and on to the next...