Meanwhile, as a baby daddy wannabe, on one leg of my journey, spent way too many wasted hours in traffic jam eeh. Yes, they were all around me, across the city, town, and country. "Construction work," was what they said to me that day. Yes, "it's what's going on out there on the motorway, even now. We're building up the city and remaking it; shiny and new, like..."

"Like what, like, oh, little Genie?"

"Yes," because they're so in love with me, and yes, you too. Then they go off polishing my shoe with what was dropping from above my kid's knee. And you?

The greater truth behind all of this, though, my youth man Pickney, is that you and I never got to see it through, to the end of the quiz. We're always too busy worrying about the next cup of tea Leigh, and about when next our favorite artist will be featured on TV. Like, while doing a super gig somewhere over there in Tell a V. Yes, Cousin Vivienne, go tell that guy named Vivian; he's making mischief with me, and he needs to stop it.

So, the streets all across this town remained in lockdown, with orange cones, heavy-duty machinery, and concrete blocks all around. So you were forced to turn around and go back home, to stay indoors on lockdown, behind the doorstop, and listen to rock and roll. Rocking your nerve, yes, whilst rolling over the ancestors' graves to yet more craps on which to get them sold, on the sale.

Selling them on all the virtues of getting them saved you know, yes. Whilst reminiscing about the good ole daze, those that other folks liked to call, days. The good times that they used to have too, (are not.) Like, when you could have gone wherever you wanted and went. Went out watering the garden, to the fullest length, and tending to the plants, and then. Turned your attention to herding the crop of sheep, hogs, and laying hens.

While waiting around for another batch of chicks to come to the hatch. So that your fabulous breeds of high-end chickens may survive, and become something great, like this, and that. In their system ma tick mechanical tik tok chick, yes miss, flip ma dipstick and check it out.

Thank you. I've always loved the way how you do these things, whenever you do. Making your name great, and not remaining as dumb things sometimes tastes. Sorry, I meant to say, dumplings. Yes, hiss, and head shake, but make haste, you can always do it whilst dumping the dumplings on the plate. Onioned sardines will taste it up great. But wait, no, perhaps not, because, others are working hard at putting it to a stop.

To this one over here, and that, and to where you're allowed to go and park the jack horse cart, whenever you go across town where you'd wanted to go and play domino or come. They're out busily putting a stop to that one, ma son. Trying to stop you and yours from going outdoors, every day, and everything you thought that you've got locked down and secured too, okay?

Although, you can't ever seem to be able to see any such sneak attack pointed at me, from your door, way back at the knee. Because you're too blinded for trying to fit into that line dead, and this one too, as I was just reminded by, guess who? Yes. Forcing too hard to fit into the sack box of their played-out cards, the ones that they are giving you to flip flop and walk past little miss.

"Oh lord!" You'd said, "I don't deserve this." "I know, I know," was my reply, as I had promised. And how about you, Mr. Brown? Weren't you the one who was last seen on the way out of town, trying to go and walk the many million manly miles up, (or was it down?) As if you wanted to get up north as a start, no?

"No."

Yes, to go and form yet more forty thousand crops of sheet grass than those in the fields of crackpots, my sweetheart, no?

"If you say so, then, it must be...?"

Yes. Packed to the brim and sold off. Thinking that; you would then be able to sit down and relax and count your multitude of many blessings, one by one. Spreading it all over the furrowed grounds too, on the fertile field lands. Well, I'm just guessing this one, so let's continue to sit down and talk about this man, like. When you're old and your many children are grown, bold. In the meantime, though, we know of a place where you can go. A place where the people over there, want our labor, "do you hear?"

"Yes."

"Oh yes man, I swear," as much of it as they can squeeze out of us before we go off on a binge through the doors, to go and meet the savior, in the dome house once more. Yes, that same house with way too many rooms behind each closed-up door, hinged on my many mansions in the sky. Yes, Ms. Vye, that is why.

"We'll move these obstacles around and out of the way a tiny bit," they say. Like, off to one side of the freeway, "to free up your pathway for five working days a week, okay? Yeah! So that you May be able to squeeze your way and go through, or come in again, in June. Bringing your labor like the real wonderful blessings that they are, to us, and them, and yes, him also. Not you though, no my friends, won't do so.

But to those who are 'ours,' our realest of friends walking bare, (footed,) towards the coward, (squared, and crooked.) But as soon as you're done doing that, be sure to go back, home, and sit down. We don't want to have you driving around out here in any of your beautiful automobiles, "do you hear me, O'Neil?"

"Yes."

Certainly, not while having any of your many wonderful babies beside you, at the wheel."

"Oh-dear," was what I heard next. "Not even if you were trying to go and see the others with whom you have already made a pledge, and signed the deal, no. These concrete blocks and piles of hard-boiled cushions will be piling up on your boneless horse at the bottoms, for us. While we stand aside and look." (Woo,) some days it's just the smarts among us who're left here gazing at you there whining and cursing out our guts. Tough luck.

"I'm sure you didn't mean to interfere in our domestic affairs, sir," you'd said. "But what this in fact does is: It prevents me from going over to see my lover, to try and lend her some more of my love under the covers, so, disclaimer, is what I'll name her. Because it's a tool that I'll use to inform you, as well as anybody else that I may run into, not to try and use any of these unacceptable views.

No please, don't do it. Not any of those that didn't come to me by way of the authentic authorities from thieves, and the miss-fits. Such as you, and your tubes, schools, or the books of rules. So, since I'm not allowed to think freely, figure things out, or deduct a thesis from the narratives and the theories. Yes, those that I'm fed with biscuits over the tea Leigh.

"Really?"

"Yes, feel me? 'You would be better off dead,'" they'd said, "by laying no claim to whatever may be found on this page." Well, so you might have heard it said somewhere down the watersheds of the KDs. But? tank gourd I'm the livered, and not delight. That was what I said on that very night. As you can probably tell, I'm all cried-out, and running scared, as light.