deepundergroundpoetry.com
.:Fowl Mood; I Wanna Fly...Safe:.
How high does one have to fly to not get hit by that “Surface-to-Air”
The one “up from down there”
Some launch related to some heathen’s bullshit
Their affair
See, without fear
Whether be Maine, Ukraine
or Old Tangier
One wants to fly hoping the sky is clear
Fuck whomever gave whoever The Gear
I don't know
But the weaponry is a trip to me that eye can’t see when it flattens me
Turning me UN-conditionally into...some
Lame-ass body parts;
Tell me, where’s the smarts
Closed casket or NO casket. Initiated by some heathen
Calling himself trying to get “even”
A birth of Bad-Brains, Insurance Claims,
Political Aims; all of it causing pains
See; some just want to chill in their nice vocation
While others just want to travel “in Peace” while on vacation
Just “regular folk” not into the fights of any nation
But, naw...sometimes there’s a fool who can’t allow
The kind bent on making the sky real foul
What he needs is a soda pop at the bar and a new pal
Needs to be that ex-glutton for that trigger
Recall his compassion and reconsider
Be that... “I’m that, NO More for War Type of Hitter”
Grounded.
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