Your beautiful mind is shrouded by our abyssmal surrounding
The jarring ruckus composed of voices with nothing to say, comitting lustful and spiteful acts just as confounding
You buzz around the gun shots in the night from the heated exchanges of the afternoon, and relish spreading the news in the morning
Yet we all hate the mourning

Your thoughts float along a tributary of violence, carrying too much weight not to be dragged under by the venomous current
And you love it

If only one ambition I could bring to fruition, if only one purpose I would be a leal servant
It would be to abruptly uproot you from this concrete savannah,
this rolling plain of debauchery,
this collaboration of skullduggery,
this tundra of treacherous trollops

And replant you firmly in view of the sun,

She holds my muse captive in a cage with bars of bamboo
I fear if I don't retrieve it I'll never be completed
Use a scapel to spill my guts on loose leaf, then I delete it
It's unworthy, it's too wordy
Got too much love for you I'd be broken if you heard it
And these days, I'm not too sure who recites it
And these days' I'm indifferent with who likes it
Somedays I don't even know the man who writes it
Scribble a wordy flurry and not understand what incites it
It all feels insightless
A pretentious attempt to be righteous
And what is righteousness?
Staring bold faced at the heart of the abyss
Saying even though it's looming I can't be defined by this
Or lose my mind to this, thinking ignorance is bliss
Enlightenment ensorcelled with the progress of humanity
Standing hand in hand with a communal prosperity
No severalty severity
Trade your famous 15 seconds for just one moment of clarity

Feminism is lying
It is not driven by equality
It is driven by dominance
And I, a humble observer of what is both beautiful and empirical
Have no argument for the contrary
Their fertile nature and ensorcelling majesty, I am but a myrmidon
To what is the zenith of divinity
that this circumscribed world permits

He loved her, but his love was forced to buzz beneath the surface, like a deep pain under an ******
The day it would be relevant seemed to drift beyond possibility, but he hoped for it
And some days he awoke to it,
bleeding
A ghastly wound, once healed then torn open,
dreaming

Fire and ice, you and I... wet with wonder.
We tangled and tossed and turned.
Our passion was poetic,
the way I saw truth in your eyes,
the way your smile hurt me the right way, that sharp tickle of pleasure.
Our joy was boundless, our toil of love without measure.
Yet...
Our love was a tide that crawled back to the heart of life.
Our ebb and flow of desire and fulfillment bled
all over that designer rug.
I sit in a cafe obsessing over deadlines and profits,
but,
can I really forget?
No.
And when I run out of deadlines,
and when I don't profit from profit,
the memories will bleed into me from
the past like rain "inside" an umbrella.
I will break.
I will sigh.
My eyes will mist,
my head will cloud.
I will shake my head and wonder...
"Will you remember?"

You're born,
you live,
you die.
Is there time to evolve?

Sometimes I sit cross-legged and I hum,
and I congregate with familiars to hymn,
and I congregate with warriors to gym,
and I smash keyboards to poeticize,
but it there time to evolve?

I will not let you substitute my evolution.
It is not some rabbit evolves from hat trick.
It is not some ******* nothing to something odd.
I don't know what it is, but you're not substituting it.

It's something weird.

I can go insane and wake up a god,
is that not evolution?
I can fall in love and become superman overnight,
is that not evolution?
I am the ka-me-ha-me-ha fusion of my parents!
I was,
once as worthless and aptly sized
as the penny under your bed,
but just you wait (you know what I mean)
I became big enough to rob you of common sense
and maybe your cents (yeah, about those pennies... can I sleep with you?)
I became big enough to hurl mountains across lakes (warning: stated objects are proportional to ants).
I became big enough to be the most insignificant speck on the earth, but I could nuke San Francisco and you'd see my handiwork from the moon,
is that not evolution?

Evolution is the survival of the fittest,
that's right,
every football player could be the next evolutionary link,
just wait until the end of the match,
you might be the first witness ;)

Tell me I'm not wrong!
If you say the opposite, you're a communist... (see what I did there?)
Is that not evolution?

What exactly are we passing through,
to get from where I am typing "a" to you saying, "Why'd he choose 'a'?"
from all across somewhere else where I am not?
Mouthful? Mouth full of what? Imagination?
Is that not evolution?

I don't know where I am sometimes,
and then I pull out a cellular doohickey,
and I command a machine 100 times my size
that's somewhere where there's no air or gravity
to tell me where I am. Sometimes I threaten it,
"I'll give you the AIDs equivalent of a computer virus you,
you... you pervert! Yeah, I know you know where I am every hour,
of every minute,
of every second,
so... there!"
You've got to give satellites the what-for sometimes.
IS THAT NOT EVOLUTION!!!

I don't know.
I guess you don't believe me...
Is that not devolution? (See what I did there?)

Okay, okay, I'm not impressing you with anything,
neither wordplay nor swordplay,
neither hiccup nor genius,
okay,
I'll leave you with this.

What did the signing ape say to the other signing ape?
Boom.
(Is that not evolution...)