This has been a hectic week, and once again things outside of the writing world have delayed what we are doing here. But, apparently science or something like that says being late is a good thing? We’ll go with that. To get refocused, however, it is time to put everything under the sun on notice:
Riddled with dozens of thoughts,
for whatever reason feeling lost,
but deploy the ink,
unfurl the pad,
nothing will land this determination like MOAB,
there’s desecration of others,
claiming freedom is our right,
in the empire of America,
Wait, wait, wait…
this isn’t purely empirical criticism,
it’s marked-up, chalked-up laced cynicism,
I do it too,
not like you,
but I see your truth,
but unlike you,
I write it out depending on the mood,
take shots sans bullets or liquor,
simply verbatim from when
I lived via lyrical concoctions
displeasing to you.
souls will dim the lights.
abstract lover tonight.
If I had kept listening to
people who couldn’t pass a test
by simply reading an hour a week or less,
what business do I have
of taking advice
from those who want to dim a shine
which will only appear in dreams for their success,
Pursuant of code
720, CO YOU KNOW,
representing where I’m from so heavily,
because it helped craft who stands in front of
your digital window.
So now that you know,
never take a chance to blow
unless the pressure clearly indicates or shows,
that you couldn’t take being put on notice,
before even the openers began. This. SHOW.