Mixing

[George.Wright]

out of the black
to be on the rack
and to suddenly take a panic attack
was it oz or yahweh?
what the hell did them men say?
a gambler with his debts to pay
who was the good angel in the affray?
down in the woods of the life's decay
on the hardwood of convience and the kitchen's of friction
it's not just your fingers that are doing the itching
the deal of the life and the opposite that strife
bundled up and sold as a slavery wife
without a warranty or defect
the duality met
and the action came as impulsive
as the wish to beget
the beggar has no worries and he does not fret
the production still continues in the replication
home of the stuttered jumbling of the humble alphabet of the lettered Gerome
a home in
lineage
and a humble home
where linen men went and moved the stone
the fine line to heaven or the earthly respite
whipped up to the sky in a strawberry angel delight
whisked and spirally cloudy in the sky Gerome
or not that's no way to say goodbye
the astral allingment chromasones jingle in the dark starry sky
a further genetic blueprint to stir in the pie
Georges