Jack Spratt

Looking back, at now and forward as an old man I am wont to do. I fall into sadness and joy then ecstatic and back again. Discovering I have no fear for my friend is always with me: me. It’s okay to be a girly boy with panties over my head laughing at myself in the mirror remembering it was a near and dear thing the difference between being a girl or boy only one percent and to become a real 50/50 in ways always is a blast something to pass forward as a gift of abandonment to real life instead of the pale white bread covered with wheat paste alternatives born in America or Bangladesh ya gots’ ta know it more better to be free than enslaved.

To know and love God and in return to be so loved to have one another as playmates in the sandbox of creation is well what can be better?

To see this genius in another is!

To celebrate the self possession of free people is a blessing from which one can at the time of death know them blessed by whom and when and the pants wetting ecstasy of knowing yourself blest not damned either the marriage of heaven with hell and back again.

The orgasm never ends since it cycles round and round with wobble of our seasons and reasons to be at all so blest with bliss God by anyother name remains God or Muhammad or Ali or Ala or a boy named Sue Immanuel and Jacob at play dancing the tango or David doing the naked strut ecstatic into Jerusalem to be in the middle best seat in the house helpless with laughter at the proceedings since you know all the time it goes can go will go either way and God be served God’s will and intentions U go God! Rha, Rha!

She was black and sweet as midnight in Jamaica and I was in her presence while she swept the doorstep but a moment and knew then and now I’d seen not merely the Great Mother but also the Mother of Earth and oh boy that Mona Lisa Smile and how now I melt in remembrance what me worry the having is being had keeper kept and the free man/woman/person/alltogether can fly or slither hop or swim going up in smoke saved by the creator of all things no crib sheet Post-It Notes needed no faux thumbnail or fake book to steal from required the little boy burned alive for wetting his bed the little girl raped and cut apart for the Fargo Shredder its okay not for you maybe not forever or at the very least as far as your vision and version and perception will allow I can heal you since I’ve been healed of all my griefs and know them better redeemed before me reconciled submission to the will and intentions of consciousness of god is good more better. I think the next time I want to be a giraffe or an ant eater to tickle your tonsils from inside out. Best of the Best Blest yet can’t fly or swim without resistance or hop from lilly pad to frying pan without somewhere to go. As for me I love going back to Saint Louis on my tricycle with what was her name pantsless holding me for dear life as I wiz through the alleyways and the wizard of oz laughing his ha ha off mama flummoxed oxymoronic

121005 04:44 ooh yah
©2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved