Fight!

round 2

These are nightmares
These are not dreams
These are not woods
These are not trees
These are night screams
These are frightful nights
In the heat of my Hellish December

I shall remember thee

Sitting
Squatted
Takin a potty here
Solid
I'm locked in a seizure
I'm pop lockin and dropping
And obviously cocking glocks at all times cause I am so tired
So anyway
Like I say
Two cocks in my hand
Ready to man up and...

Autocorrect, folks.
That is not a correct quote.
Those were GLOCKS in my hand. Glock 9.

Not 9 inch cocks. God damn.

I'm a Klu Klux Klaner
I ran up on two black phantoms
In a white sheet
And threw junk at em
And said, "Hey you there! Stop with the rap!"
Oh that got em mad
And who knew they had it

It?
The gat.
Flashed quick.
Licked five other sorry civilians
Around me
But not a shell found me.

I took it as a sign.
Quit the klan and joined the ISIS club in Barstowq or Iran.

All the women wore sheets. Kinda '80s. Not my taste. See y'all later.

Mohammed. Later, prophet.

Hey Allah. Holla.

These are lifeforms
These are not screens
These lights are too bright

Darkness is too black the words are too exact
Matter of fact I saw alotta evil shit when the darkness came
Like a troll with Parkinson's with a walking cane
I just drank whiskey and waved.
Slit my throat and then shaved.
They waved back.
Then snarled and came for their payback. We go way back.

Lucifer was an angel then. He was a great actor. I say that. Yo he made the best tunes the Heavens ever seen. And he messed with a few angels but he never messed with me.

But Hell is under me
Federal investigations
They discover me

Just kidding I'm fine
But that would suck though
Feds all in the bed
Ripping apart every thread

Fuck those guys. Stick to the murders and kidnappings.

It may have actually been a cold December wind that thrust me into a field of night terrors and awakenings screaming, "I might be dying!!! Nah. Wouldn't that be a sight?Prolly faking you can make it buck up you little naked darling."

It's a case of nervous system shutdown. What now? Thrust your hips and hip and hop.

Do a little dance.
Whip it off you can do it.
Rip it off. Oh wait you have no...clothes on. Just rip some hair. There.

Now twist and turn. Does this shit burn? Oh mommy! Should this have occurred? All anomalies.

A shift in occurrences. Currently fine. Witty as a vaudevillian sucking granmas titty.

Civic minded. And groundhog living. Keep in mind.

I'm gonna sound off. In the event...

Of an event.

27 days later...

These are my bad habits
These are black cats creepin through the window
These are the facts, Jack

What's the word?
Uh fuck off.
You fuckin people.
Let me die in peace.
Oh. You coming to kill me. Feasible. We can reach an agreement.

See these?

Jesus. Yes. Put em back. Weirdo.

I'm a grown man.
I can ground my deeds
I can get by
I can sound off easily

I'm a smithering. I've been smothered.

Oh brother.

Fine. I'll shut up.

It's an artistic take on dying in puddles or toilets or bubbles - Elvis style.

Okay? You'd ruther I'd rather be more like a son to my mother?

Wow. Hip and the pelvis?

Yeah. And nail this. Some quick arm looping logistical wrists in 360 degrees tics.

Easy. It's a natural thing. A drastic disorder.

They happen.

They nervous. But they serve a purpose. Or they will when I'm pretty.

Pretty soon.

Bout noon. Of next year. In the gloom of March. I may charge up and take charge and start to weigh larger.

I may send a text to Darth Vader or Ray Charles.

I've got it! I'm James Bond!

© JacobAlive