The prodigal Patron Saint returns to the land of the ancient and graceful Save for the objects that paint his paces Embracing strange times on stranger tides Rub the lamp and watch your hindsight intensify Pull the chord and light the room with many wishes prayers and boons I’m a peer-uplifter, heart gear-shifter with a forklift for my mental state The pencil always breaks at the start of the day Been known to drown trying to swallow the dock and the bay That’s how much joy my corpse can contain Always wild, never called upon to stray, only summoned for the merriment Coordinating outfits with rebels rocking cowlicks in a matrix sanitarium So we throw her in reverse and we clicked into the slip Slide guilt and pride aside to sit her easy on the tip BearTooth Collective counting coinage by the candle’s light Poised to prove a problem to those demons known for ankle-biting Thank your lovers once and thank your haters twice Grilled tomatoes with the broccoli & rice Ignorance is bliss but blissful ignorance ain’t nice And theres a knight in my backyard stabbing the ground with his sword Trying to render my soil barren by killing off the worms But luckily I’ve trained them all in classical ballet and they keep dancing ‘round the blade as the night returns to day Like Clefairy on the mountainside Summoning the solar beings to crash down from the sky All of this to speak of the persistence of existence There’s old niggatry at work My bones don’t grow just to groan I made my peace with the gold that I sold to greet fabled kings who’s palaces are never clean Too much blood & cum on the coin from the loins of a bastardous flesh But peep, the beard connects Continents of Knowledge that survived the upteenth apocalypse just to remain incongruent with the way things ended Eclipsing the Eye of the Fates I remain seated in place even as the seasons fold, old in their age The pains of playing with time and space include a mighty fall from grace De-industrialized stasis got niggas sleeping in lies and lost in the faces broken mirrors created Deep fakes & doppelgängers A steep trace to topple dangers leads to sweepstakes for power rangers fighting dummies with the putty brains to quell an imminent doom No caps for the fuddy-duddies who rap whack with cruddy styles that bounce back like a bunch of buffoons Baboons crooning in an echo-chamber off the zoomies like a kitten in the nip who’s always looking for a fix But if you come to the crib there’s always food for the hungry Greens, fruit, eggs, meat & a bucket of grits No need to pay me money, I just pass the blessings on and don’t get taken for no dummy whilst I sip on the piff and slip back into the mist