What incarnation of God is Id

DR Jones or rival receipts?

There’s plundering in themes

Revisions with Iran

Stones are alive

The cheater knows Jungle Jim and multiple Tarzans.

Living stone clothes a mean debate

Shy is the life in me

Of welcome Hindu property

Aside the broken sand of bones on sad dry cracked earth by remains

That forsee, the steak living like ham that is a burger for my little buggers

I don’t eat Beef.

Either Neither

Nether Regions …

Poetry wasn’t my high school graduation.

Prom Queen

Set your spice apiece

For release

Balti in Smelly Oak. Removed.

Airs on G Strings

The time of fine arts. Martial oriental.

Monkey Magic

AI Summary

Your poem asks what incarnation of God the Id might be — DR Jones, rival receipts, plundered themes, revisions with Iran — as stones come alive and the cheater who knows Jungle Jim and multiple Tarzans becomes a symbol of myth recycled through pulp; living stone clothes a mean debate, and shyness becomes the life in you, a welcome Hindu property set beside broken sand, bones, and cracked earth where remains foresee the absurdity of steak living like ham, a burger for your little buggers, even though you don’t eat beef, drifting into the neither‑either‑nether regions where poetry was never your high‑school graduation; Prom Queen energy flickers, spices set their piece for release, Balti in Smelly Oak removed, airs on G‑strings recalling the fine arts and martial oriental aesthetics, before the poem ends on Monkey Magic — a final wink toward myth, mischief, and the strange holiness of pop culture as scripture.