Spur of the Moment Poem

Words, observe as married letters entice action like verbs, Act to shun coercion from your' disturbed nerves, embrace poetic face of blurred sentence fragments, and damn it all, life is hard like enamel, and art is tough like a wax candle, poetry is blown glass, school is a wall in shambles attacked by vandals, with crylon dreams, fly to neon Zion in cyclone winds, this run-on sentence could end all repentance or start a revolution so relentless that forefathers who bore w***e daughters could change the course of history, the truth not recorded by the winning troops remains a mystery, in vain illicit attempts at creating legacy, so many pages have been endlessly fed to the red, blue and yellow dancing darting flames, so many thoughts that the hand had hardly tamed sent away, let me take another hit to reconcile the day, recompense the victims of betray, holy books have the world wholly shook like a rolling can of soupy demands, pullys crooked and bent, pinching wires so tarnished harnesses lay waste to distasteful plans, complacent company hungry from toe to tummy for hoes and money, frozen bloodless corpses with the resilience of silly putty, but really buddy these buds have flooded in on waves of love, there was a time when society was almost saved by sage's drugs, but now its all bells and whistles, what hurt before now tickles, pen attends to sword, but foolishly draws a pistol, so now the laws of cause and effect are in need of gauze because their flaws are fickle, jaws of life claws rip the truth from the clause, and now Santa is out for revenge, reveal the real end in real time on Real TV, this is real talk not spoken in the open but recorded in the studio in my head as I sit crossed-legged in my bed, hopefully the audio frequency that my thoughts create can relate through your' computer monitor, blast through your' web-cam and surround your' cranium like a head band, don't be a follower, the leader is a blind guy with a bum leg in a wife-beater, Scum bag's come in paper or plastic all choices more hollow than hollister, hollywood put a halt on your' free follicles, hippie, skip to where the s**t gets trippy, Flip and land where dirt gets dingy, flirt with every skirt in the city, but lucy's pretty face is no where to be found, look for the chick with glowing hair and a halo crown, wearing a dress that's crayon brown, and proud, say it loud, clowns bow to ring master's but think faster and realize that you are the man with whip in hand, beating lions back with every severed crack, directing the carnival, the big top boss, the fun house facist, until that room full of mirrors everything was looking clearer, now the bookies bets are tilted, odds are wilted and worthless, earth's surface is crawling with lurches in cancerous perches, don't worry, I'll save you :)