kick the scoundrels off

whereto whereto (high priest) with thy faking feet?









spandrels are my shoes... but thine?

thine are just bullshit

bullshit



the toothless flow of accident is a happy looking backward

when the moon’s a-pissing wet



gross misconception of the distances involved

with the overclouded brain helping none



survey the empty spirals where thou choreographeth those too engrossed steps of thine

and perish in thy useless pursuit

or else visit my lithe ziggurat and also fall on thy four paws as thou useth to

for the beast are thou



so scram

before hovering unobtrusively in the margins a (re-)beginning starts

catching thee with thy leaden (so drownable) pants still on



stranger structures might be expected then

the dynamics are now above weird

the cycles improve into worse

only that isn’t that just as it rightly should?



whether anomalies are attempts at apt escapism

at being swept along by the flow of accident

or crooked matters are... for idle abstraction

still the power remains mine to say

scram

bullshit

fake feet



a choking agency arrested my running joke

thou were so red in the face

I said rage? conniption? what?



grow up creep

thou never were the main character

only thy cheating fake feet brought thee here

falsely



ludicrously unwieldy feet carrying thee to the door of the devilish scoffer

the core or mytheme of thy con shamed to smithereens

and thou now sputtering indignant proficiencies

at a deaf wall



crazy and enthralled by the sheer entrapment

of the unremarkable it all



(eloquent dream where none of yourn stand still extant

dreary paragraphs elided

ours lives less laden)



(breaths drawn easier now

when much of the bullshit’s been silenced)



(hush...)

s(knob)bery of the flesh

Still puzzled by all that, bodies with legs waning, melting as icicles, gone, renounced, irretrievable as the past.










knob of flesh
frightened stick of dynamite
persuasive pumice
in its nests scary acrid saccharins
clarinet that bristles
all sounds pronounced unfit

self-swollen cockroach who to heaven aims her shrillnesses
telepathic doodles interspersed in spasms of resentment
squirming jetsome in the atmospheres
a doozy of a twister wreaking havoc therein
the sky a brainless beast chivying a flock of panic-stricken sheep

at all this thunder stares the fool
slept off the scandal and the guilt
he greets in phony joy the thieving needles of his bed
of pareses and thorns

someday'll retaliate the beaming pawn
he shall smear his own funeral with a slew of risky subtleties
as I wasn't there here I ain't he'll say
or perhaps...
but nobody'll listen
nobody shall be there anyway
we are all dead as passing clouds who have the form of molten lead.






Gray birds disappearing in the distance, but were they ever even birds? Or just shades, distorsions of what's seen, discerned.

impropt(ootyourhorn)

What's the meaning of that? Visions galore.




an ideal adventure
a perfect appointment
solace to groin
crosseyed invasion
black black black
murder in Avalon
isle of the bored
bring me a burnt cannibal
a dead cat
dead dead death no remedy
the cauldron - its stench
dirty emperor dead
framed in undying twilight
kiss du jour
the lady thrown into the pyre
Laura Laura Laura
pain of noise
bout of nausea while leaning on knob
the empire levelled then
moonlight deadly
the knob of night
odd man that walks into the red sun
red sun red sun
walks in
back back
back into his round room
runs shakes
frisky showgirls smile
is it his last dream
a starship a starship
alights in suburbia
the crew all teeth
teeth teeth teeth
ah cruel sea of their gasteropodous mouth
escapes suddenly
legs legs legs
the next girl
short span
the knob activated the ray
the ray the ray
she's hit limps falls
the man the man the man
into the snake pit in a tangle
a bunch a mess
ah unfaithful nature
how strange unfair our treatment
yes a far from ideal
a far from ideal adventure all told




And next a new page? Apparently. But who am I to judge?

poem impr(poop)mptu

How does one explain the following?




brunt of collision

cunt of brunette

nest of trucksters

streak of snot

tons of critics

crowns of tricksters



Who would pay (with crowns) for such cheap fare? An accident depicted with the aid of secretions....blood....mucus...menses...spleen....


Not worth, not worth. Damned critics, always exalting streaks of dreck.