Nothing Evolves

Sunday, January 29, 2012

8:38 PM

…into substantive zilch,

which encrusts your belly-button zero

connection to the void

birth of a digit, soul as in solo ono

one, on, the bits high, true.

We are P as in predicate,

return a lifetime object

to the method call,

iExistWhy( parameter: live, do || die );

2/1/2012 8:45 PM

I don’t January like I ever did,

not withstanding everything

that’s coalesced since adult hood,

over my head, and under the bed

ain’t I a scoundrel.

Scared amen mumbled something sound-proof,

I heard waves,

like lips on a ship in the ocean,

I salt winds, not words, with my laughter

as the facts altar.

Putting pretty worship to a tooth fairy,

death becomes numbers

on account of the mortuary,

mortgages marry for love, people move on

and lose their interest.

Don’t I lick a lime just to seal a letter for you?

Aren’t my sour spitted postages applied more true?

Supposed to be symbol recognition where the

pretty [green, blue, brown, albino, glass] eyes

light up when the stone shines.

Hearts of diamond,

slaves in the mines,

killing, rape, and drugs in the minds

of the boy soldiers, Soulja Boyz

and all the white girls swoon,

oh what a gentleman,

holding up my hands shaking my middle finger

fuck the single bitches,

I’m getting hitched.

Society is served,

sanity is severed,

severe everyday constrained arrangement

until nerves tense burst like the sirens need to come,

its been domestic since the fence post,

ghosts of a pair gonna die together,

could barely stand to live together,

what a wife,

what a life that your children had to live through.

What’ll they do,

whisper mature overtones while the

overture concludes?

2/1/2012 10:29 PM

I found the drunkards Zen.

Catalyzed on phony’s pen.

Pack of lies, ideas spent.

I wait to wilt and wallow

in my consciousness,

the plan-script action trigger states:

—Metabolize{Self->Imbue(Properties[]=”good”; Event-Listener(Minimize-Negativity))}

A slug of rum, to bask in batshit crazy

rancid ratty rants of imperial pleasure

our own other oath ought to onslaught nicely.

The man on television says, “listen to your heart, embrace what you know to be the right decision.” Right then I farted, and god laughed. A few seconds later he used his divine power to make me fart again. It wasn’t as funny, I half chuckled at it, god has no natural talent for comedy; a shame since he mastered tragedy in 7 days. I then being cursed sharted for 9 straight weeks, at which point I cursed that Jobian-God and then exclaimed in cliché, “There are no believers in shit-holes”.

We fucked like jesus freaks, confused and possessed. Our savior, Mos Def is the Best.