this lookin glass i look through
is caked wit salty dry eyed flakes,
half the ideal mentality people boast about is
they self righteous mentobe’s and sacriligeous idiosims
conceived through pugnant breathe zen techniques,
fuck you and your alma mater, i’m through wit technical
diversions caused through penal codes and digits,
ma fidgeting fingers linger longer than whispers through
diasperic tendenceis caught on ya diasphera, fear of love,
nah fear of sacrifice, twice the heart size of ya regular joe,
stirreed shaken mastered atrtfully rendered into
two thirds of an ideal man of mystery, crumple you up toss
you to the side and let the basura ya spit pack itself into
a nice lilttle corner where you can swallow your reduntant
speech patterns introverted lil troglobyte tryin to step to the
lone mastodons rock smshin lyrical bastardization of ya pickup fights??
you just accumulated trash thrown outma window
on route 66, to be forever forgotten on the side of the road,
aint no glory aint goin be no gold for a soulless empty heartless
cold crisp onece delishnow served cold not hot dish, battered bruised and broken
your just what you is….........
accumulated trash