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I want to be curb stomped into the pavement
Of literary history so the teeth in my head
Scatter across the world, tongue embedded in soil;
I will become the down power lines of life agitating,
Electrifying the very air we breathe. The engines are igniting
Headlights are flickering and we’ve been driving SUVs in the rain

Inspiration is lost like down the gutter rain;
One’s whole year can be thrown off by vomit on the pavement.
Splashing a stranger’s urine on one’s ass is nothing short of the soul igniting,
Sending smoke signals from within to the words inside our head.
I was never the one in elementary school, who found spelling agitating,
I was in the outfield, sitting in the grass, picking at the soil.

My dog Sebastian once ate Christmas kisses and in the yard left his soil.
I never quite enjoyed but never really hated the rain,
But if you asked me to puddle stomp then I would have asked you to quit agitating
Like wool underpants or Carlos Mencia or choppy pavement
When you’re riding your skateboard, with nothing but X in your head,
Like an idiot which I found to be intellectually demeaning; try soul igniting

Fool! I had less cash that was never being spent always igniting
In my hands like the un-cigarettes that I smoked and jabbed out in the soil.
The tongue had trouble worming it’s way to the earth it was used the climate of the head,
Dry and hot. It was foreign to the concept of a plentiful harvest or a season of rain,
It had never heard of agriculture it grew through pavement
Plucked by an obese child, with snot in his nose, who thought t-shirts were agitating.

Well the farm went bankrupt and all Jim could say was “damn, ain’t that agitating”,
His whole life was spent pulling weeds, his hands igniting
The land. His tongue checked out and made the jump to the pavement
When the papers got a hold of the scene they said he was aiming for the soil.
He died that night and in the morning was lost amongst the shriveled worms from rain
That fell on everyone’s downcast head.

The tongue is nothing but a worm in the head
Searching for the proper climate, the least agitating.
When the season comes of rain,
Of wind and terrific nature where nothing is everything igniting,
The obese children leaving soil,
Here grows even pavement.

The pavement, solid foundation of the head
Blooming out of the soil a most earth agitating,
Igniting, the very crops that now fall in the rain.