rap (and jive)

you know i wanta
rifle through this madness
stir it with a spoon
till its stiff and lifeless
like a rock
i wanta rap and i
wanta roll i wanta
rap and jive baby
all night long
i wanta jive about
rockets and what it’s
like on the other side
or do we just live
on a cul-de-sac
funny french word
for the end
i wanta jive like
there’s no tomorrow
where we all enlist in
an army with trumpets
and fancy map folders
by our sides (so that we
know where we’re going-
i don’t want to fall through
a hole in a cloud and end
up in the bottom of a crater
in mr. smidge’s front yard
back on the dad blasted
cul-de-sac) the neighbor
children would talk forever
about how mr. mckinnon
became the first dead man to
get kicked out of heaven
i wanta jive (and rap)

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