He’s meddlesome like the specimens
knocking on his skeleton.
It’s beats over everything,
‘cept for a bit of Methamphetamine.
This dissident’s impenitent.
Rhythm sitting like a blueprint;
Building villages for the pilgrimage
then sinking ships fore they’re ever sent.
Quick, crack the casket, he lacks a cat nap.
His dreams got caught up in her fishnet.
It’s madness. It’s habit. Go ahead, ask Alice.