...

as those them said:

we wrote Thursday, July 30, 2009

suddenly pants

become is the are of virtue

a still image to no I universe.

just a touch

...

12

jippery bridge

My bridge I have reached
For lungs to fill with choke
And thirst with fizz
Where pornography flutters her hair
And drowns limbs amongst foliage
Broad leaves
In one spot chemically burnt
Light brown and dead
Where the ditch spews in
A slight weir manmade
For the muddy coloured wet
To skip
To mix with trickled under bridge

I observe cars approach
In this solitude placed
Back turned
Gulping usefully at fag
As they and I should intersect
Gazes and acknowledgement
Won’t play between us
Or my strategically oblique face
Rendered fuck off
I’m in my own sweat
But they do swirl the verge
Suck and fold
Green plump sensations

Reheld He drifts reverent
Towards English painter scene
Cows in field
Cooled in shadows of Italian trees
Bubble up tumescent arboreal
White mirrored froth
In sky
Slunked beneath
Heated pleasant
He tosses cig to water
And watches
For as far as seen
Then unimagined

Summer Rites

Moses feeds me salad

Self - Portraits

TV2

TV1

...

absolutely everything was said.
nothing was done.

You're Not My Father

Strange Roads Ahead

I switched off my Head:Mail

Dream for a Druid...

... art for art's sake money for God's sake

Baudelaire from the continuing dared beard

dream relationship that short state isolate insert

the a was written (in always to life)

While only of which it before the that they have one involved joke.

Old.

These as can still that expressed.

Retouch by and the to along,

MEMORABILIA,

of whose of I what very number sentence acts they blurred

not do be Language a to

It but did making to that necessarily examples

the formulation itself less analysis, worth used imagination... *followed by rare snare drum rolls*

them that by familiar born demands those stripped the I mind

all And is erroneous idle novel which did his past

quote thousand inexcusable of The or grown become I would many of its more

my upset foothold, have is -- are should all some such opium (Echolalia.)

the terms particular two and should the would piled reason!

Their whose distance. Exercises is pride, above to but or between vulgar!

Blood is 'Have occasionally time'

remember bully pie he asked

Be Careful

...

i wish for the soporific opiate batting to fill the corners of a troubled mind so that the spindly arm can reach with the talon hand across the plastic space to clutch what is mine.

to frank von we say

no

what responds to time

my your follow own anybody knows

no

just i'm doing/saying/living as follow trust

you of also is fact if to is don't to fur & on best commenting

your recognition

you sorry

there’s your wish

trust you wasted

do you're ‘’ there’s already a saint's log

can't is enough!

chosen yourself

need a see *smiles* way-here -…

inner know what this is as what we are

or, -

you'll your own known call. (again)

better i pain

it really compares to the motto from here:

"suffering" i'm don't maybe

call Blau

work

just Frank you.

I a you is I your’s and just time!)

sayin': You. Dada

suffer.

*hint who can't if You of your guru’s waste need state while you suffer words

in the!

Telephoto

Telephound

Out of Control

Dream for a Druid III

...

Outward Bound

Maki

To be Shunned

...

As is so often the case in a crazy household . . . guilt becomes a leitmotif.
-- Frederick Busch

I admit it, I simply seek union - a boyfriend. Turn away if that offends you. About me: I am an experienced representer, a filer of complaints. I am distinctive, though volte-facial, fully shaved. I am in every sense uniform. I have a meaningfully intentionalist outlook. For good people, I willingly exceed. Without allowances of that kind, I personally oversimilarise, oversum, omit creed, dying with brio, so much so that I tend to preclude, in a cloud of refunds and causes, squeezed and delirious, like some hater ghost. My fat arse cushions some wouldbe scammer, whose brand of verisimilitude, whilst awaiting further colouration, tells the story of disappearances, amongst photographers of the verbatim - or so the fucker says. All I want to say though is it's not the same since I lost my heart to some sick freak. It ended it tears. But I cannot get him out of my mind. Patricia

...

the mutual identities, lay slick upon the thread worn net. this the dog says, it is mine, all mine. snout and teeth adorn the day through a monkey grinders funeral march. the words just get more truculent above the broken flagstones.

Nelson Magalhães Filho. ANJOS BALDIOS 2009. Acrílica s/tela, 80X70 cm

kissie kiss...

Summer 2009 -2

big head

light bug

My New Arm

I am Made of Light

Summers cold.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Strawberry tango lingers........ on on on a lion rose...... in the red lion pose........ you better............ run. run. run, Annoying commercial bombardment, Worms of the woe. Gotta take!... Shes in the room alone, better run run run............. Call-devil each other. calm and never cool man gives up. Book a room oh look around... to the moon. so hot to peppers on the ceiling twinkles as they walk back............. On the road again, with an outside onna peak,

vents steaming.

Tack thing, exaggeration alright bye
drag that thing, claustrophobic...rectangle... room...on a cart wheel..okay give Five Thirty....... white and orange... Everything goes out black...

You just left.
cold heated
wheres those?!
UMM
line back to the wall.
I thought we should.
NO!
pay for it.
RipppOff
They gotta
owe me thank you.

Next thing I know I'm there with coffee...see ya... later...CYA!! !noisy hours later

Thirty feet long crew is framed for delay. the real steel wind labeled...or

Fifteen hundred here's how it works. fiery river of ha.

Metal bit off extra heal, butterfly struck by civil war bullet.
neat pockets, hands in pockets.

BBB lips

corm studio

lice offering

the black and scope

cold hands with a vagel

hum zzz and the raddle gates

riddle beum

embalmer coffin

slam<><>
slums

the right
eous

soux,<><><>

bankwet

lien

line

linen barrels.

(0(0)0)

the lens.

been bo
crime tans

in the black

sandals

window faker

likes balls.

noir

clammed up

claustrophobic in your face wide angle soft link to the riders of the purple sage.
ah
ah!?
think you got him,, KILT HIM!?!

INSIDE!
DOES!
IT!