Pondering Nerd Slays Wandering Wordplay

Kissing you all over.
To us this is a touch-up
Making love, but not fucking
Not faking that rub, it matters.

If we were luckily doing the latter?

If we were the neighbors would be banging on the walls
I spree for sure just to play. Else I'd hang and fall!
But I can't be in this world without banging to brawl!

I'm the same cat I've always been
Maiming scatological whims
Mocking blue, to tally and wrap up schisms
Walking through the valley of failed capitalism

Before you heard your first sentence of me
I was sore and disturbed elegantly
                   
Landing prose fierce, like Ambrose Bierce
To Mistress RISK I'm married. Her KISS CARRIES levels
Tricky and WARY as A.B.'s Devil's Dictionary!

But too much defensive guarding eventually builds a victim complex.
Lick the poison you tip your weapons with, and ultimately every stance wears you down further.
Fuckers will bring you down for free, why make it easier for them?

Shows as much promise
Towards blowing to astonish
As an EMP weapon against the Amish!

When I die turn my skin to parchment
14 bars of what Petrarch meant!

Everyday Earth turns on its axis
I steadily play and burn for practice
Always ready to flay, astern behind a comet,
So I'm on it graphic!

Feeding my mind, bleeding crimes to read tri-lines.
Heeding between rib tines. Seething teeth shine.
I discern what outlasts shit. Then learn to match it.
Needing to climb, for magic gain.

Heeding to find, acid rain
I can match that lane... meet this one fine...
By seeding clouds with quicklime!

Fast on this game of wit, ashen remains spit!
A necromancer's prank, to BURN my unstoppable lips!
Set up stance with an URN as a prop-
To a ventriloquist!

I'm colder from top to overturn pop!
It's scent fills my eyes with mist!

Raising the days on my shoulders
Found my way all over, stayed colder
Never felt pop, or fell into a melting pot
I was dealt chops from street salad!

On my feet to match any blitz
Bombing feats past average
Self flagellation is like beating a mallet
To bleed across a palette!

I'm the complete package. Sweet and graphic
Between the sheets savage!

Rub ringworm on every copshop cruiser seat
So armed bill collectors can sojourn on foot, bruising their feet
No harm, this ill conjecture just turns grooving to a feat

A sound to disrupt, sure, but FUCK YOU if you think you knew the next line!
From ground up please infer: I dance on the brink when I express rhyme!

Bruising feet is a grooving feat because it brings around
Choosing complete to know what peeps have to scrounge
Empathy is only real when it's lent to go on and hone what to feel.
I've had to scour and devour and fight for my hurried life since early hours.

I've known and trained, blown and gained power.
So caste cash-collector in blue, telling me what to do?
I've been in worse than your shoes. You've never been in mine.
I still pay my dues daily. You're a cog who's whole way is to not see

Like Nazis evolving as a social response to deterioration
OF FUCKING COURSE some evil weasel stepped to the situation.
Brought together the ragged under a flag and said “THERE'S a group to be bagged!”
Clever and numb that pike list. “Fuck whoever is unlike us quick!”

Crumbling to the finish, the only role is to punish, their wish is to hold this!