Moredom - id the road jack!

Id be bored on the road, doing jack shit;
bid your fare well to swing some egos.
The stack was lit, I had plenty a hit
coffee and cocoa contemporary concience;
complying to nonsense and toxic twits-weirdos!


Moresom to sommelier the somnambulistic Belials;
what said to much trials in tremoring splendor.
I was on a fevered pitch to remorse the lot - dials --
no one got my number and was playing me vacancy.
I must have been like the witch of Endor - same frequancy!!


The cream was salty and sour, flouring me some aghast
dethroned thralls, who couldn't commune with sympathy,
to the sandworm, their shovel split apart, while digging fast
their grave and asshole, to save the fastest gun in the hornets nest...
I couldn't recall, was her name Lorraine or Cathy -- perhaps it was East.


The nail had a hammer time, to get into the coffin;
I was not given much fucks to fox the fixer.
I was too Loki to low key el toro loco or Dalton Timothy
not one of the brothers in arms, but the sheriff found no Bond.
I guess Nietzsches Superman would deserve a netflix er ree?


Sidewinding the grinded walnuts to fall on your pillow;
swearing the Aether had nothing to do with it, nor radiance
glowing inside my eyes, as I was roasting faster - still owe
the death 50 cents for crossing the border with the wrong pants...
I was murdered by my own contempt and burried at Cabot Cove loathed!!


The boast was clear as the sunny day, I dismay to have a parlais
for my words there not french not sorry; I wasn't even sure,
whether or not I was met in Surrey or like the sitting bull conclave,
to burry my heart in more books and ink as an octopy could slur...
My sentenses already danced like a tipsy dwarf on midsommernights rave - cur.