Jay Alejo Writes

a lot of us like to think that we’re immune to bs

but we smoke weeder and think we’re smoking green cess

it isn’t 3d chess

i don’t know a damn thing and i say it with my whole chest

smoke cigarettes they’ll kill me later now cough and wheeze

honestly i wish i was drinking syrup and smoking trees

this life gradually subjects us to the third degree

like a cigarette, satan is now smoking me

it’s not a joke to me no matter what i said prior

imagine having cultural prions in your brain since a minor

grow up a little bit and then you start losing it

nothing for it but to keep on cruising, kid

because this world is illusory like a mirage

all i ever wanted was to break apart the day like a collage

i park by the curb there’s no space in the garage

spark a blunt then run up on you and spray a barrage

i go beyond every single realm and sphere

every single time i cough some phlegm and drink a beer

okay but you gotta get over it and put it in the rear

and rest on the precipice once we’re in the clear

illegibly scrawl something which would be incredible

if it could be transmitted and decoded in your mental

fictive elements through praxis become sacramental

turns out the soul is the materialist elemental

i keep a pencil and stencil for every time the spark dies

with the shadow of the true self embedded in the outline

one more line or so after this i think that it’s about time

would the world be better or worse without mine

here is the fault line