~Harvest~ when I was young mom told me to eat my veggies turn up (turnip) this beat (beet) down's now a proverbial murder scene with the herbage converted to disturbing the peace (peas) but not for the purpose of serving me greens not the type of guy you can purchase with cheese my rhymes stay determined to asserting sheep's bleats be more fervent in observance of just what they seek instead of getting trampled by the herd fleeting when they gamble with defeat scrambling to preambles rambling handfuls of insubstantial examples in damn stampedes of scandals so I'm damaging those vandals my antics brandishing righteousness by the handle every time I write in rhymes like my pen's likeness is a sight which fights with a license to incite violence towards entitled mindsets might think that I'd flinch but my mind's actually quite tireless so even when my wrists cry with a tight pinch of arthritis I still won't hesitate in the slightest to give them a nice twist to realign bones, ligaments and tendons so that I can continue to grow and heighten the stage of complacency to sway away adjacently flowing greater with a vacancy of plaintive poser claims to be what I ain't when they're blatantly feigning greatness pervasively though it's been as plain to see as why that obese guy who holds up the drive through line to stuff himself up with fries can't run a mile if he fucking tried side stitches and shin splint pains setting in the moment he steps to take his first stride reminding him of his gluttonous life fumbling shakily from its punishing bite maybe I'm mean but maybe that's right sometimes instead of placating disease like demanding tolerance of such strife with bluffs like it's beautiful too it's okay to different as long as you're weak but if you're strong then that's wicked you belong with the beasts at the zoo imprisoned as idiots visit just to witness you poop because it's wrong to be free so get in your cage as they make mockeries of your rage while they gaze psst... you wanna know something that will really amaze? fear not for the beast it's not dead just asleep from counting these sheep not locked in that cage though that might be how it seems the instant it wakes it's bound to break free unleashing itself to slaughter these sheep who cowardly bleat their boundaries weak founded on mounds of sleaze they'll bow down on their knees in astounding defeat the instant it's free when they're bleeding then they'll believe stumped slumped freaking amputees and as bad as my anger gets when I am mad it's dangerous standing too close to these flames will do so more than plain singe when you folks get burnt into a crisp a frightening type of fire fed my ire's a funeral pyre lead by strident desires to mire pests into dire retirement without a single cent or an ounce of of clout left just a bunch of self doubt plus a few pounds of regret for spouting stupid touts out of their mouths that only amounted to meaningless fake con artist dipshits plain hate on my brain's fitness for they know my existence will expose them as witless my haters keep on congregating trying to find a way that they can maybe take me please do go on with the conversation keep plotting while I'm operating it's honestly entertaining lately hearing you pop off with nothing but facades trying to flaunt skills which you goons ain't got while I'm bundling your puzzling plots with a twisted chuckle since for me it's just juggling props bunch of fucking novices gossip in flocks then flop cheap tricks with weakness at their origins but when I kick this shit the whole board flips it's 50/50 when you try and diss me been on my independent grind it either will entirely miss me or slide right off since I'm so slick with this shit it's like I've got a Teflon state of mind like the front of the stove getting used turned me into a dirty burner folks earnestly earning my spurned curses grilling sermons filled in with worthless verses serves my purpose self-righteous retards might get compelled to yelling meek barks listen to yourselves like an echo about to get quelled with these smarts when my mind's been sharpened like I've been handling intellectual whetstones dumb arguments torn apart to shambles starting from their neckbones straight down to their hearts I'm compelled with this art to rebel against the marches of hypocritical charges and repel snarky remarks with a metaphorical scythe reaping the bleakness in giant sweeping arcs which slice right through farses like grain cutting swaths through these lames you can follow along in my wake but nothing worth saving belongs in my way. ~Justin Farrow ( cover art: Andrea Christen )