the plastic fluid settled like a taciturn old man, in the lowest parts being the fleshy scrotum and turned a livid eggplant hue which did not deter our amorous intentions and he pecked away in stops and starts- stabbing little flesh shots of joy in one ear and out the other while the clamorous bells of the church rang out in frantic peals as the steeple ripped the bellies out of virgin clouds and all the while the one legged bandicoot snuffled anxiously around the tattered bed, sniffing at the sybarite scents and bemoaning his own wicked needs to bite young women there...yes there, in the fleshy folds of agony.
webbed heart quicken and thicken litterbug,
unison with the pearl railroad systems off with the HEAD... led,
no names on the shirts, faces with fevers zepzete.
Burning, but still yellow in color stroide infant gangleoid tough bugger.
A grave stone patch of woods, serious pretty arse
stretched school bus in a measuring cup its yours now Ive always been a janitoir,
trouble shit in the dishwater what’s this paint on nowhere elixir of poignancy,
I was up in the attic, ripping the new school a rad influence ...conflugent oblongish,
steel friend I don’t know snobbins.
Dedicated to what the fickle is this guy doing? storbish lite acrylic hairs
A spider is a spider, a human is a human I said Hares.
Dart isn’t a janitor up there banging doing drums...but no one listens.
Well we were up there looking out its exquithit.
Lower parts running letters feel off and got caught by going back so ethilent.
crazy looking hippie got out of your accident, Beethoven new the lines of rich soil
hair can change you cut them all off before pink floyd, din he?
it was all the wind, was blowing, Flogging the spheres....ploggint the gurls
old hippie from the 60s like a deranged rooster, slippers asque
got up caught my dreads off. Attracted the crickets, Teeth hanging out
making babies, guy on all my pretties. Ze letterbox full o BS....winkin slowdreadful sequelch
sitting likea seed, means this.
What’s a relation with this,
meditated on sedated orals.
Only gurgles the last line,
recite it one more time..
this time “don’t look at the camera”
your full of fool, walking the street.
You don’t care, your ridiculous, look at your stride.
Inside the toes, looking for the code.
Stripped of his behold, and a shattered finger.
Struck a match, but it’s wet.
Struck the time, it was waiting a while.
Opposite of the now interesting feature.
Walking the time,
While You like and lie.
With a neck around the corner, torch in the window.
Heavenly sparrow, death is on the handkerchief,
rats carry the violet wave.
Send a cat to the internal cabbage.
Caught my finger in the dishes.
Slowly deadly but never messing up,
live again, to much in debt.
What’s the whistle?
Watch the zoo, amusement park, go UP.
Hear the laughing from the soda dispenser,
wheels still linger, in the orifice of matter.
Starts again, with the laugh still bringing on the gold,
time to start sampling, lighter laughter monkey boy.
Its time to start pleasing another widow before my time is up.
No dog in his position, the crown of the pack.
Choir is caught choking in vinegar, before it’s time.
his salad has his childhood,
and the red hood is violent
the practice is to silver, sparkly... sparkly..
in a house in a house, fighting spouse,
grandma quickening getting faster, speeding up.
hosing down the back porch with so many options
rising with the scorpion and washing the front hood,
play a nice old game, and finish that landing.
operate under the dresser under the thoughts of begging.
peaches of pieces, i know there NOT and if it were to be,
I thought i was obviously a cartoon, barley, bartley, I'm done.
caution caution, softy creme, i am the fish cold, clean, clean green..
saving me, fish lips, apple lung, not a sure answer, in a jail, in the border.
walking, with my hands in my pocket, wishing, watching while in my aisle,
every 60 seconds, eating, feeding, breathing snacks.
coy dog, the language explodes each to his own.
I have money on thee pilgrim is sacrilegious sleepovers.
in his head explodes,
paper bird flow.
in a cone...cone.
will you come wit
come wit me.
in a silver bed explores... somewhere.
Where are my taut apples parched with cordite around the bend?
Humbled in coming to the realization, musket in hand, the horses sang in a box. Bandits, buffoons drowned me, no dream-maiden to dissolve.
Black twists of goathead film in your earth. Boombox hurricane covenants with moon
umbrellas because they know they'll stick to the doors of the mausoleum.
Mysterious skeletal pigments,
I drag my reluctant book upside down,
trees with your fetus that insanity is the only
reasonable option in my mouth.
across the fibrous stalks of fungus-furred moors. that were once of old
growthscar left of old; the trunks gasp hardstop. chitinfeet drum soft belts of tracks; the webvomit up—silk grappling hooks to draw
the hornshells lapse to soil. the cornhusk poppet drools her saccharine sap upon the scars
thunder rushes insubstantial tides against
the great lead sheet earth sleeps
beneath the stolid barrows fallow silent. the cornhusk scrapes the sap. wolf cubs and old crows circle closed with magnetic amber eyes, drawing the bloodsap back to earth. they accrue, metastasize, rippling fur and bloodsquirm
the soil’s peristaltic shudder looses mewls and ululations from starvelings on the prowl. the poppet draws her silk across the dully shining scar. the lesions shiver loose and the tree begins to fledge. now the scar begins again to feel the breaths
When Darius Slightlump defecates he defecates a strange shape. This strange shape takes the form of a tiny teddy bear with a smiling face. Having completed his ablutions and arising from the toilet seat the smiling teddy bear poo then follows on behind Darius. Wherever he goes it goes too and always in his wake. Up hill and down dale the smiling teddy bear poo follows. Into shopping halls and even the library.The only problem is when it rains.
magus hotel 1959 listener techniques - the control centres [riots/ street noise/ buzz sex/ illness]
tracking texts - rearranged the mechanisms of oppressive state [hint of reverb/ email/ fax/ text]
key of X investigations were more scratchy blur, variant fires, demonstrations, violent programmes blueberry number 23 - future events ambient
refer to physiological need dependency operators
desires attack invisible el hombre - the re-write! the original broadcasts, news bulletins, acts,
industrial groups threat demonic according to the media processes -
sexuality towers open fire of short wave static poet calligrapher beat of anarchist
assassins chilling rasp repossession of sub vocal phrase addiction either/or logic of western philosophy pre-programmed.
Written by A.D.Hitchin, 2009.
demograph, from her. i get code. then i phone.
no answr. so i message. saying gonna treat you right
out. as if she would agree. hard speaking into
nothing. about nothing. i was told emphathiz. so
i slit the follwr from here to here, with a sharpened stick, poke out
an eyelid. trouble coming now. but i can argue my way out of
any thing i choose. so i slam the door on his fingrs. in time to
rock no roll. then i married him.
The night is long with body-star, with corpse moon, with waiting to do something else. The Hollywood house is white and gold and South East Asian hard wood. He caresses surfaces. Perfect smooths and fake distress. Runs his reflection along gold handrail climbing up a staircase with modernist rectangles cut into it. Has a shower. Looks in hiding places for another persons porn. Intimate items trickle through his hands. Calm hands at peace open clean sealed packages found in a stack of goody bags. Sprays expensive, sprays it all into linen, into one spot on a fancy sheet the accumulated scents of Europe evaporating in the precision light of inset circles. Light that tilts and can be focused about the room through use of a black rollerballs mounted by the door and in the bedside tables. With a click the rollerballs become dimmers, controllers of shadows, of emergence and submergence. Sending signals across the hills, he sits on the bed in confused fragrance.
Exploring on hands and knees, crawling in a night of riches, freezing as a statue each time the worried phones ring. Time perhaps to leave this pad, find the garage, the petrol, move on slink back.
The flames race high, fingering blackness, exploding dry shrubs. Lloyd scrambles into vague spaces, tearing skin on shrubs, finds a road, ignores and crosses it quickly into a laborious tangle of escape.
deeply, darkly on ebony thighs
she fuels his lust with her maidens sighs
that brews a tea cup for him to drink
with sapphire teeth and gold to chink
against the rim so pristine white
for his passions to ignite.
then upon a broomstick and a shaft
she grips his manhood with able craft
that sends a shudder sure to break
in far brazil a fearful quake,
as now it burbles and starts to boil
so with her teeth she sheaths in foil
the throbbing member as it burst
to flood the street in upper midhurst
that even with a ton of tissues
she cannot soak up all that he issues,
so with one bucket and a spade
from his semen she builds an arcade
for able bodied men and serfs
to bless with coins from their purse.
let's make no mistake, be it large or little,
this mans volume is no lick spittle
as future generations gather blessed
beneath the gelatinous edifice
that harbours jews and gentiles alike
to worship at the altar of chairman spike.
just be consistent- i am here flayed out for your viewing pleasure but the view apparently is not moving you except in a lugubrious way due to the drooping of the flesh and the real time ornery, unseemly mannerisms of the mammaries so it's with a feeble cry that i ask someone- anyone, won't someone just consume my parts? would you like them cold? steamed- i will accept any request, just please put me in your mouth so that i can quit this horrid coruscating.
- Virus mask
- thumbscrew 116
- . la gioconda .
- Girl in a Glove
- micker mood to twitch, earstuff it in the nest wee...
- I am not able to field your kind offers. Your anal...
- Painting Games
- I want to apply within or about experience. I want...
- No interest & The Great Kid Choir.
- Apocalypse Knight gives ride to Androgynous Christ...
- 3 thoughtless actions
- keelish gob.
- The Phone Call
- keep your eye upon the shadow
- I've lost her. I tried again and again. But it has...
- Bells To Tautology Only Singing Back
- I feel unhappy enough to tell a blank screen that ...
- night on the town
- Defeacting Darius
- Magus Hotel 1959 magus hotel 1959 listener techni...
- I am Here Waiting for You
- Night on The Town
- WAIT FOR ME HERE
- introducing -
- I don’t make a habit of writing. That doesn’t matt...
- The Castle Spirit
- all click all clack, diseasd i, is all
- plain sight
- They are all chasing after her
- i do not wish to continue
- behind myself
- time after time
- tub 2 09
- Clap hinds, toadr, ur codes is fictn. we'r here
- . couldn't should but did will, accidentally now ...
- yards of exclusion, stalking orgasm
- Metronome Strip Button
- skin landscape
- Chairman Spike
- tick tock t'ERROR, u.fetlockers, u.fukadoos. I say...
- to Martini learn doing about say ...
- I feel what follows might be some kind of subconsc...
- Reporting-MTA: dns;bay0-omc3-s13.bay0.hotmail.com ...
- these, silver repeating made it my hit decide l...
- Drops From Nowhere
- DISCHARGE masterpieces
- two earlier abstracts, I anticipate changes ...
- Hi. Christina BBW here. Take it or leave it. A bod...
- kitab al-a'rad: gallstars
- avi an
- Antique woodpeckers glow dully in the solemn Antwe...
- Smug Fuck
- beauty what is.
- ▼ May (84)