the internet... give me a break... i'm trailing on lost bookmarks and postage-stamps, ******* i'm trailing, i'm making up time, the invention is new, i'm making the most of it, you start telling me it's like the wild-wild-west and... well... don't know, i'd be praying to be employed as a cowboy.*

hard time killing floor always excavates the best in me,
never mind Howlin' Wolf or Jay Lee, or the deafman
and Muddy - blind Willie Johnson and Delta Bob...
there's just too much humanity to encapsulate it all;
and perhaps that's the foremost sadness,
a sadness that states: too many of us to choose an idol,
and choosing an idol crucified won't help either
even if literate with the Bible or not;
Jehovah's witnesses won't help you either,
the scourge comes
lessened in magnitude of *****'s locust;
you go be on your way politicising
the African demise, but i got to celebrate
that from the Slave trade...
agonising memories of Mozart and Beethoven,
the blues, then jazz, then the **** ****-burger Elvis,
go back and moan me a blues than you politicise
in a baptist church blind to archaeology of 19 45;
some too said too often the Olive Garden and
the historian Josephus making it contemporarily true;
sing me the blues man exported, than this Ivory Coast
enigma crucibles of what i too would moan about
concerning noble birth; and that too, with inverted commas
gladly forgotten given the silken shawls;
TELEVISIONS AREN'T CAMPFIRES YOU YO-YO *****!