My Spaceship Crash-landed and hit a Hobo in the East Rand
Listening: dotheknxledge beat off Blu's "Jesus" Ep
Reading: Dope extract from Ian Penman's "Birdits" qua life-texts written about Charlie Parker, off lrb.co.uk website. Poe's "Marginalia", The Naked Song by Mandla Langa, many bits ChimurengaChronic alligned.
Boycot fondling your girly parts
Get a day job
Simmering sartorials, art gory
Toncil hot hell broth
Signing footnotes at your memorial
Corpse lickin'
'Cause you're chicken
Like gobbling turkey, I'm the chef who smoked the L in lithium
Dirt cheap and stoned, led sheep by slick-talking morgue pidgin
Whilst the bulb's still sizzling hot
There's nothing more in store for you your soul is sold
So save your sobs
Its all hunky-dory top-speed Christian gibberish;
Today's Native Land Act told in subplots
Asking from door to dawn, can you spare change for the sum of morphine
Horror hyms like these
Decoded on the spur from nerve knots
In the cold steam of Sunlight bars reassembled sock piece by onion leaf
To resemble in outline and scheme, a tear-jerking opus
Jotted on boxes by a head-bopping god of the most menial innuendo
A buzzkill tsar
Bulding kingdoms from fools gold and mischief, manning his post right here in your metro
At your local busstop looking bizarre or bogus
In fact both
Signing for you to stop
With an extended arm
While you fight fear thinking his designs on your bonus
It takes Its toll
Twitch and fidget
Work out instances of joy known and felt
To split the differences in a poem about home
Its all in your head, the horns on your helmut melt
You laugh off the last syllables
But gag at the last minute
Witnessing a mock race come marching down from the hills of hell
Whether Rome fell or not even Fanon's mother knows to each his hole.
