Not the PIGS

Written by: Jimmi Canada

I am not a cop-
but I sure do viscous
-recollecting roll roads
-being superstitious

I do what I do every single day- 
when I get up to my bed being made

Making some power out of my gravy

So sour,
the dreams I see engraved

The bad man walks with prowess...
The eager are dumped out of towers

So sour is the taste of being slit...
When my blood doesn't mix... does that enhance all your shit? 

If time was a diss-
would life end with ecstasy and bliss? 

If my mind was print-
would the papers have any of it?

I always ask, do you remember what you said?

I always possess, something that I know is only mine

I always do things that I know aren't that funny-
but do it because I need the symmetry 

I've never won a fight but still possess the infinity

Dam that old man...
**** the kittens...

Dragging along linens
-Soaked up by millions

Sweat seems to pour when I rain

Jim heads seem to dance when I sing

My girl like's her signals when I dream...

So might the forest always be black

Might the rivers always be on track

May you always be young

And may I age old like rum

Seated and spun-
always hanging in on the runs

Getting home only after I've come-
to believe in the after life learning of my fun