Earl (III)
Earl with the sweats, bitter brews and melancholic feuds stinking, even inside his grief he shone bright. Its gay, homies are glad then solace came . Unfiltered, cluttered crumples pinking for clarity and pining for drunk tank pink understanding but the hive cold. Held no council for the ticking ten minute minutia but flew off into the verdigris sunset for greener rays . Left him a vagrant mumbling of clashing vagues but he reappeared once more, locks locking him tight in his Baptist role, he a prophet with red in his eyes . Red water in his lungs, coughing up minute almost minute long sagas, he even baptized a drawn and quartered verse with lo-fi water but he was quick to leave with a wordless outro. Sax of thanks for the day ones before the O'phone Pharisees crucified him for being the mess of the previously catalogued maze, the ire of the storm hire, messiah of the to-be-drawn-and-quartered, of the new genre.
In the wilds forgotten by all but his hounds and the L cults, he was content. Content till forced into civilization for he was SICK! Sick like a young earl, sick like 2010. A transfiguration for the L cults which swam shallow, fished aggressively and were not content with the slow-burning blush punches boastful but he was gone again quick like on-the-Mount Elijah . Not even 40 punchlines, only been an interlude, an old friend come visiting but is soon gone, an oldie come to reconfirm his best under 40 list status then vanish. Best since DOOM without the DOOMS, shootout to Daniel and Dumile . Between Friends, the Cap's always first and Between Villains, vinodemafy the first. Man with the musk, let him secrete something special then its off to shower in a jasper lake. And me? Titanic on this shit, went under, back into the dark below. Will I be Jekyll or Hyde? Jackal and eat or hide? Past passes the mock, will I salute the exam? Come out with the 2010 Jolly Roger flying or sail with the 2018 crest to East epaR, cresting the hill where a Mike ughs with them vanguard jeans on? He ghoulish and I, we the same on the mike, he and I two different sides of a like . Inspecting the mind flow, mind grows cold from the mines I sowed. Weed mines mine, clipped from the sun sight, Daedalus dying from the sun smile, Icarus plight kills inside . Who seen the ghoul laugh, soul sink sit in my soul's junk seat? It smokes till I tee off, still wears the tee, Tyr.
What do I love 'bout Tuesday? The present, that's a lye L. The past, that's the empire falling, OD L. I'm unsteady on my feet of clay, reminiscing, shorts short as a pulp tail. How long till the crumbling empire of old crashes? How long till I feel the death throes through my damned toes? How long till the trumpet truly frees me to fornicate with the accordion, that harsh mistress, Moon? Dreaming of reading in the stars, newborn eldritch. Elder leeching off the nebula, nebulous. Dull day in the clay, Splash bro injured, stones on feet splash. Boss stone falling, dream statue crash, variegated end, hush .
Knew an angel once, fine as Wellington on a tongue. When all was sung and dubbed, he went to find the OG in the primordial. Stale off the endless, he went seaside, "see you inside" to the haters, chasers . Left his blonde glow by the beach to bleach the foes, let 'em digest the light, darken their appreciation of art . He 'bout to scrap off another layer of sauce. Source of the puzzle unsolved, evolving, fourth layer of the wellington . 1815 prime, how do I murder a Wellington when I'm Napoleon? Already shot my shot, best my 2019 bullet. Snatched the crown from the game then on the shoulder put . New take, new genre, bright future, No Game No Life, we all playing. Bro and sis, me and hopelessness. Cloak and dagger grandfather searching . The past, distant, when Franklin was king, GHOST L. No head, trapped in an upside down birdcage . Elephant brain, napkin sinking, grief in that glass. Whites flailing, trout sinking in hazel past, what's for dinner? A stare Gemini? Eyes coconut gaze? Is this a test, am I tethering mad? Merry Sweatshirt dining with a rhyming Earl, hell, hail the pot-polisher of nobles, Earl sunk . Can't go outside till my Shiro voice matures, till I sink back up sink fully, till the beef chokes in black pepper . Vizarded memories unveiled, December 24 blinding as an almighty bulb. Hercules sobbing in the silent night. Meek, metronomic repentances chuckle into the light . Inner observations on the altar, Goat waiting for the sacrifice, is life worth killing myself?