braggadocio to let you know
This is a Drone not Drones poem
A making broth out of bones poem
A poem so fresh it probably never had a home phone
Peace summit at the Pizza Shack with Vice Lords, cops and Stones poem.
A Yanez verdict burning straight up systems overthrowing poem.
This shit’s self published and collected in its own tome.
This poem’s grown.
It groans, moans.
A bright light shone on all the places where you won’t roam.
Dig a little deeper and discover that this loam’s foam.
You’re thrown, holmes.
Your seed sewn.
Put your ear to the universe and listen to this poem’s ohm
Vibrating tectonic plates till we’ve all got our own thrones.