They are worried about cloning
But like to chew the fat
My brothers in arms
And sisters in armless chairs
Isn't it better to hoof love
Then to narrowly avoid rancidity et al?
I feel like penn or teller
I assume the one that never speaks to be teller
As that we be a good play on words
So, let's say penn
Since it's easier to assume what position he might take
I feel like penn
(Or teller)
Prancing around like a jokester
With real concerns about humanity
And the state of affairs
Just bubbling to the surface
For long enough that it becomes evident
But barely more than subconsciously
Except for the fact (of course)
That I have no pulpit
My medium
Asked to merge
In some hip hop tractor trailer disaster
Where you are only defined
By a panel of your peers
And must sign up to compete
In an actual contest
Just to prove your worth
To the world of words
But, I guess it has always been this way
Or, at least to a certain degree
Peer review
Screwing some contingency
Whether it be due to a pimply complexion
Or a lack of social graces
Now you must have an edge
An angle
A gimmick
Or shtick
Even if that may be
The lack thereof
Because I always say
The greatest way to beat the game
Is to have no game at all
So I could string this together for ears
But I much prefer the eyes
And the center of the head
Where someone speaks
But we're never sure whom
At least not at every moment
That is to say (meet me at the center of head)
From where do all those blessed dreams come from?
So, we are worried about cows
(so sayeth the peers)
Or more particularly the cattle
Worried for our own sake
That they might be forsaken
Morally opposed
Scientifically botched
Where is the great Troma movie now?
And I have no great desire to feel the social tide
Turn my way
I don't want to be cute
Or funny
Or mildly anti-establishmented
Fermented
But the cows
What about the cows
Years from now
We can discuss this
In peer review
If we remember
What our stance is
On two legs
Or four
Armless
Lifeless
Forgetful
--
1.16.08
But like to chew the fat
My brothers in arms
And sisters in armless chairs
Isn't it better to hoof love
Then to narrowly avoid rancidity et al?
I feel like penn or teller
I assume the one that never speaks to be teller
As that we be a good play on words
So, let's say penn
Since it's easier to assume what position he might take
I feel like penn
(Or teller)
Prancing around like a jokester
With real concerns about humanity
And the state of affairs
Just bubbling to the surface
For long enough that it becomes evident
But barely more than subconsciously
Except for the fact (of course)
That I have no pulpit
My medium
Asked to merge
In some hip hop tractor trailer disaster
Where you are only defined
By a panel of your peers
And must sign up to compete
In an actual contest
Just to prove your worth
To the world of words
But, I guess it has always been this way
Or, at least to a certain degree
Peer review
Screwing some contingency
Whether it be due to a pimply complexion
Or a lack of social graces
Now you must have an edge
An angle
A gimmick
Or shtick
Even if that may be
The lack thereof
Because I always say
The greatest way to beat the game
Is to have no game at all
So I could string this together for ears
But I much prefer the eyes
And the center of the head
Where someone speaks
But we're never sure whom
At least not at every moment
That is to say (meet me at the center of head)
From where do all those blessed dreams come from?
So, we are worried about cows
(so sayeth the peers)
Or more particularly the cattle
Worried for our own sake
That they might be forsaken
Morally opposed
Scientifically botched
Where is the great Troma movie now?
And I have no great desire to feel the social tide
Turn my way
I don't want to be cute
Or funny
Or mildly anti-establishmented
Fermented
But the cows
What about the cows
Years from now
We can discuss this
In peer review
If we remember
What our stance is
On two legs
Or four
Armless
Lifeless
Forgetful
--
1.16.08
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