Swear to G'odd and Brooklyn,NY

 


More    is the long night
of little or no  apparent sleep.

Life
has become some unknown
Life.
Unknown, unknowable,
                    (unknowably amiable)
                (unknowably cruel)

Graciously/Gratefully,  the monsters of joy,
                                      the fiends of happy,
                      have left and gone
              away
and taken their cravings/yearnings with them.
(No time for such sensible being human).

We have such ways and means, (and meaningful ways
                                                           which all ways finish by
                      negating      each    other   so    competitively
that one would never notice that it is any kind of game at all...swear't'God ! )
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Yeah! O, yeah....y'know, the bible was written in Brooklyn when the
Dodgers
were in their prime.........Twas  intended to be a forerunner comic novel,
Jackie Robinson as J.Christ.
Branch Rickey as God'd'Father
Don Newcombe as Holi Ghost,
Walter O'Malley as Demon in residence > pointed toward the Gold Coast
 Land of Angels, (and dollars as living things)
            leaving the innocents of
            Brooklyn wit a flipped middle finger and a state of (shallow) shock.[/font]

All of this means nothing, which is the most sincere thing anything
            can honestly venture To Be in this world of idiocrazy and
            illegible signatures.........(Take mine for example),
where time is it's own dead-line, and
                                        dead children (of all ages),
                              seek some kind of
                    legacy
    from all their
broken Fathers

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2019//////poom)s(andPictosOfAgesLostToHumanInadequacy