Even The Flies Despise (Black Stoner) 1979

I am life and life is within me! A pity society doesn’t see that same thought. A dire drought bought by the greedy to give the needy thirst until they burst from famine. Tends to lend a subtle approach to the vile joke they poke without the yolk as the nucleus, a flower without stamens. Genesis, Exodus...they say, Fuck us, “Fuck’em!” As our poor asses pass the grass to surpass the nas...ty ill ways the wealthy have behaved among them. Saved all their money to never share the honey or the lovely high that is nigh. Keeping the seeping smoke of the best green to them as they inhale mightily. Puff! Puff! Pass... mah fuckah! The protocol for the grass. A wrong bong. A strong wistful song one, like I, cannot discern nor be able to learn the lyrics of tricks. Promises to burn in another body with nobody watching over me but engulfing fire which should inspire me to be docile, not hostile? Pile the shit on bricks then burn it for the energy needed to feed it; bit by bit as the warmth intensifies with their burning lies. Flies wait for the smoke to abate as they satiate of such fine edible byproduct of a fuck up. Suck up all the waste after they have spit on the shit. Fed themselves to the brink of gorging. Foraging no more on plants but the pure human conscientiousness among us.