Listen to Suggested Audio

Rose McGowan “Two Against The World”

Call me greykeeper, you’ll see there are two of us
Don’t act surprised as it ain’t nothing new to us
Absolute maximus, taxing the gluteus
Both legs in traction and one in the uterus
Mental contractions no figure of speech
Doubled up and once more set to breach

It’s a boy, it’s a girl, it’s a fucking anomaly
Flying first class for the price of economy
Cover Uranus, I know my astronomy
Wanna see stars, quickest option by far – colonoscopy

Spotter in attendance with a penchant for sodomy
Reaching around just like ants in a colony
Not that it fazes me changing the policy
What can I say, this is not a democracy

Fake news is lost to me, fuck CNN
Fuck Weinstein and Cosby, good luck getting fucked in the pen
Every cell has a stem, every rose sports a thorn
Every night after mass, Catholic priests surf for porn

The world is one big oyster shell
Most of us clam up before we get to shine the pearl
Spamming the suggestion tray with less in way of yeh than nay
Pilfering from night and day
Never once commending play
Wrong zip code for right of way
While up above us, endless space unfurls

Not that we would know and if we do then we don’t show it
What use is extra mileage when you’re ill-prepared to go it
If it bleeds and duly seeds, then please do leave it to the poet
And I shall make my own damn luck and sow it

Look at what’s bent out of shape and oppose it
Form an opinion and bloody well own it
Strike every nerve, once it’s struck, then expose it
Empty my heart-shaped revolver, reload it

Call me greykeeper, this beauty all beast
May be freaked out by the shit I unleash
Brutally honest articulate speech
Hitting in the one place out of reach
Preset to shine brightly, sole objective to teach
Doubled up and once more set to breach

It’s a rant, it’s a rave, both playful and slayful
Stone cold and dead, but then no less than grateful
Hearts on cuff links, cards face down on the table
Factual fiction, this diction long fabled

Derives from an ancient time way before cable
Been saving my trick shot for potting the eight-ball
Passionate, riled up and nevermore wasteful
Stallion wild confined not to the stable

Art is my freedom, my freedom is art
Leading from front, bleeding straight from the heart
Halfway to grey, at the midpoint of keeper
Upscaling Virgo in balance of Libra

Tail wagging doggedly, best in show smart
Dim the lights, then try to tell us apart
Every start has an end, every end has a start
Art is my purpose, my purpose is art

Super sizing, edifying, death-defying tangency
Justified in testifying
Thus defying gravity
One small step for mankind, bossed by two big shots who leapt blind
Making front page headlines and if not there’s always next time

Call me greykeeper, watch your back for Chapel Black
Never less than coming strapped and cutting slack to no Jack, fact
On the case like Kojak, getting bozack, hitting roads Jack
No just cause to backtrack and you can call this a comeback

Two times inclined now to blowing minds wide
Sick to death of bromide so I stick then to my own kind
Topping up tans down on Omaha Beach
Doubled up and once more to the breach

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

Click here to purchase All of Me Vol. I, II, III, IV & V

Click here to purchase on Amazon

© Copyright: Rivers of Grue™ Shadow Spark Publishing™