run’n on’n’on so always arrive’n right here . . . (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

run’n on’n’on so always arrive’n right here
(the trick of re-wrapping the box) 

our sleight-of-hand dissipationers
are serpentine’n philistine’n degenerators
bait’n with the charms of vicarious arms
hook’n’us on the habit of being run’n
and running like we’re running away
and jump’n up’n’down’n’spin’n‘round
and ‘round and ‘round and ‘round so
making believe we here shedding
this me we aint want’n to be wear’n
that we always trying to trade in for
a brand new used used somebody else
who’s doing the same thing too . . .
everything’s the same old ruminationing
like news   nothing’s never ever be’n chewd
everybody’s some body who’s just bobbing
treading water just like we’re being told
in this addicticationing lap of the blues . . .
so wantonly we’re fawningly begging
scream’n and scheme’n for more’n’more
hypnotically methodically chase’n
this same old me we’re being told
is some brand new delivery
we’re here being sold . . .
and we’re always kept right here
numbing on run’n on’n’on in place
and never ever ever ever realizing
how rabidly we’re just actualizing
as enthralling vagabonding vagabonds
fumbling stumbling and bumbling on
in’a on and on and endless on’n’on
to this mythical never never ever
to which we must always be on our way
so we can never ever be arriving

Copyright © 2020 Asili Ya Nadhiri


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