Ribs & Liquor
Being handled by a handle of brown, i’m more sauced than the pork on the plate. I was too stiff before the ribs and liquor but now, I can’t stand. Watch out for that bench, tripped over that son of a gun and ain’t been up since. Drunk I am not but i’m not too chicken to get there either. The itis has got a hold of me in my own backyard. The sauce was the sweetest one, I think it was infused with the BBQ sauce. Too comfortable to try to move like i’ve fell in place of where I was intended to. It’s all familiar to me and it should be charted. This is no weird act at all, i’m fully embodying what I have become. Watch that fire burn on the pit that I forgot to cut off. The radio was left running as well but no complaints here. Everything from fifty five to sixty six is on the spins. Long way i’ve came, I used to not be able to have the radio in my room. Banned from using the radio like I tried to fuck the sound waves or something. The tape recorder was my ace, recorded songs that I wanted to hear when no one was looking. I don’t even remember why i’m on the ground anymore but maybe my dear friend on the handle of brown will be vocal to me about it. He has his name on the handle, so he must know what happened. He won’t answer but I know what happened at that Walt’s Bar the night before. My first attempt at pledging my love to the woman that got a hold of me wasn’t in my cards. Its first attempt because I tried again later that night but the first attempt was taken more seriously. I ain’t lying when I say the way I pledge my love is reflected on the songs I would listen to and the radio happens to be stuck between fifty five to sixty six. The standards of love has changed since then, it comes in different packaging and the labels have changed. Told that darling that our love will be true and I ain’t expecting dozens of kinfolks or enough kids to carry a coffin. This don’t have to be forever, your mine for quite some time. Stop the running around when all I promise in return is love to your lonesome. I thought I was bewitching her but I got no confirmations yet and we were on Walt’s time. Last call came around and I can’t whip out a ballad out the blue on this short notice. Without being too commanding, I told her that I don’t need a live show but I’ll still put this spell on you. I got a “I gotta go” and no “goodbye”. My heart was taken out and put in dry ice that night. I can say I don’t care if she don’t want me but my soul still needed repairing. Spent the whole day preparing something for the soul that deserved more. Ribs and liquor was the first step to recovery. Funny how darker the liquor, the better but not the same for burnt ribs. When you think about it, it’s kind of weird that the pork has ribs like me. In an alternate universe, where the more pronounced rib cage an animal has will class it as human will lead to being labeled as cannibalistic. I don’t want to be stabbed out of jealousy of my rib meat! I must wear a cape to cover the silhouette of my rib cage. All that rib cannibalism thoughts has me rocking like a pirogue, an aneurysm is on the horizon! Man, this itis has me feeling like a horse with broken legs. Useless; I hope I don’t get put down in my own backyard. A fucking deer just walked into my backyard without asking. I’ve ranked up the tax bracket way beyond my convenience and ended up in a suburb home with a forest in the backyard. It’s honestly a surreal feeling to have when the deer is inching closer but the ribs and liquor hasn’t wore off yet. I could do more destroying if the deer would let me get a nap in. Screaming, grunting, and moaning to try to get it to go away. Screaming at it to death, hoping it doesn’t copy or come back with a cult following.