kitten smitten

Evacuating loose bowels / constituents / salt / sugar / fat / reorganised mouth cuds / evacuated loose upon the kittens’ head / mew / phew / barnymangrew / matted shit clumped fur / scalloped in its walkery / its nose drops off / and a paw / in fact all the legs come away easily / torn overcooked chicken like / mini-teats extend / lift upwards the kitten / fursome jellyfishy something / stretching skyward / I ache my gaze up waving two paws per fist.
- Oi! What’s wrong with you? Move on!
A glowering lemon yellow man / official but not police interrupts a reverie and waves with hands / I take the cue and act officiously / all Black Rod / and start to bang a moist door with a stick / a root / a gnarled staff / He seems like staff and manhandles me via the shoulders into a face to face with his dribbling words.
- What th.. dribble dribble dribb……
I show him mental credentials / a note from the doctor / my silver pages of pop out controls / dissolvable long windy names / a general sensitivity and a proclivity for my mind and vision to wander / there’s a dribblous background / my eyes take leave / shoot out and roll away / sticky up boots / black / and pleasantly denimed legs / blue. Another bit of dialogue to break it poemy:
- These panties I bought from Lungehooray seem too small?!
I hold up the red doily and stretch the gusset before his derailed eyes / mine returned and manic palpate the trinket / little red frames lemon yellow / a collideascope / an optical skiting / a dream machine of sorts / closing my eyes I feel the pattern strobe physical beneath the lids / like low winter sun through naked branches or flimsy nun habits as they stride by / me low down / bent religious / preying…
- Jesus! What’s up with you?! He parades in voices.
- It’s me hands see (not so poemy a structure now, is it (fuck off Id)) they got holes that leak when I drink just after brushing me teeth. And me holy feet sting in the shower when I use conditioner on me luxuriance. And me sides all gashed and sore from that spear that got famous cos of it and now leads the Tory party. Or is the Tory leader the thin nail, last one for the Britain shaped coffin he drags around all Django like, sept without the firepower? I get mixed up. The kittens’ teats must be sore? (uh that was like a tv reminder you set two days ago and crops up and turns over when into some programme and nicely stoned (sod off Id, have you got some? (no)))
Indeed they were / stretchy and long / pushing the kitten on / who now was scuffing the utter reaches of the atmosphere / tendrils lactating / stumps bleeding / and such was my head / bloody / pummelled by lemon yellow man / to mash of juicy lumps and skull shell / me dead / he gone to prison for what he done / then murdered with a shank in protean night…

1 comment:

Robert said...

you destroy me

utterly destroy me

every single time...

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