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Long Damn Night Pt. 1

from by Marcus Carab & Fresh Serf



At the end of a long night
when ghosts walk with impunity
and there's no wrong or right
and there was no talk of immunity
when giants walk in fraternities
science talks to eternity
no, I am not lying,
I am on an emergency mission
I traditionally lip service the urgency
But this all first perfectly,
dripping with binge-perjury
the earth turned to me
and said in all sincerity
"I'm losing magic fast into the sky
the more you stare at me!"
Now I'm using magic and so I can fly
and my temerity
just mounts with every mountain flying by
so far down there beneath
my little airborne feet, aloft on thermals
I in turn will turn from foot soldier to colonel
With the foot-soles of a turtle
I see good souls glowing purple
Standing stones cloned in a circle
megalithic gods with terrific odds
writ in glyphic dots
and each positioned in specific spots
I anticipate that this will cause horrific rot
And if I am thinking straight
then this has got implicit truth
but if I am missing something
this is not a wise pursuit
I'm high as a flute
on bite-sized bison and lion soup
whatever I can shoot
as long as it's not too cute!
now this is the last average legend of a free quest
and this is the last man to genuinely be blessed
in the lineup for free sex, crying "me next! me next!"
we'll rip up the floor tiles and excavate the T-rex
Now that's a hell of an elephant in the bedroom
I can tell you're gonna dwell on some irrelevant says-who
'til my eleventh hour elevator to Neptune
has gone chapter eleven, relegated to rescue

And it's been a long night
of goblins chattering
The doggone caterwauling
Shoggoth splatter-causing
sawed-off scatter-shot
has gone off to greener pastures
and now we face a much meaner master
an impudent and inconsistent self to clean up after
So go flock to the rafters
don't talk to the strangers
rope off the corners
don't block the stairs
lock down the borders
send Tom to the Mayor
It's been fun for an evening
But this dawn is welcome
Daybreak before hell come
And leave us all well done
And this is the last average legend
that we tell sons
And daughters 'til the droppers
of the bombs hit where the bell hung
and I can smell some kind of freeze-dried no-one
and go all ogreish like "Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum!"
And spit the distance like a blowgun,
but that's no fun,
so come and split the difference
like a throw down with a shogun


from Rhyme Circus Act One, released July 16, 2013




Marcus Carab Toronto, Ontario

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