Red Line 9

Fine in line and a little white dine,

Rose petals run wine wild and high,

Honey dew suckles dripping wet,

and misty delight!

Like eastern walking in thy west,

Missouri south southern bell,

will give-a ring,

hammer to thy swing,

Missouri and Mississippi valley coughin’ up red,

In an aspirated bed.

River runnun’ down,

Old man sittin’ in thy grand,

Meskwaki whirl crawl in clay.

Boot leggin’ candy, k9 leggin’,

To the laud and a paupers pay.

Kia trotten time,

Mashed potato, red, white wine.

Open vault and heavens above,

Black ravenwood,

Caterpillar callin’

Turkey buzz?

Signs of grace sittin’ in time,

Rays of light and star key.

Heath and land,

Broth and brine,

Sproutin’ trickles and Cumberland's ride,

An open Charlie with 6 side,

Wide eyed, holdin’ back, ocean eye liner,

Alpha dog sniffen’ up stump,

Trackin’ deer justice in thy path.

Layin’ in the low dirt of Blackettes loam,

For it's okay within' the sand of time,

Cause when you pull the gun on Old Red Line 9,

Your becomin’ honey dipper and it's due sittin’ time.

Jaguar, cougar, old kitty cat,

And Red Line 9

Hail mother and stone,

Call of lux,

Runnin’ into a coyote's night,

Old man lookin’ at his woman for surprise!

Waitin’ for sweet kisses with,

Stevens stream and the point beneath,

Runnin’ underground to Big Ben Vin in the anvils ring.

Treasure and garden to its time,

Hail and cover the man inside.

Thy sheath of lamb and manna's fleece,

Is good to grod in God's Acres of Peace.

 

By Matthew Mac Taggart

Wrote in 2021