Raw Poetry by Rev. Shakes Spear
That That That
I don’t trust that past,
It’s nothing but distortions.
I can’t remember half
and it’s all out of proportion.
What was then just a little
turns out to be a lot.
What was then such a riddle
has been solved and forgot.
Then it’s just like ‘that’
that that old hocus-pocus
flips you on your back
and you get a change of focus and see
that That is This,
and that That is that,
and that this is This
(which is all there is
because all there is is Is)
(and that makes This That))
- it’s really just
simple math, simply a
matter of fact.
But, I tell you one thing, motherfucker,
I ain’t going back.
11-4-24