This splitting as if hairs were growing into the inclement dryness inside? I'm a fucking idiot. Be the real
Idiot you can be. love it. hate it. love it hate it motherfucker shit...goddamn, is this it then?--
A harrowing equilibrium-organ of autistic morally relative longitudinal pundits hallucinating
Transitions of truth.
A cross is a rounded gel of turtles
Level at the dredging apex.
The pervert is someone who takes the artifice seriously
And plays the game to the hilt--
It looks like there're fish scales on top of my coffee.
I haven't written in days.
I've masturbated way too much.
I was reinventing high elongation and tensile strength,
Promising invention & identity, ornamentally heterophilic.
Global incestuous vertex zombie
Relapse failure stagnate fall.
Stretch marks are like a cry suspended between life & death.
A genuine consummation is achieved by the new machine.
A satellite is a perversion of territory,
And the moon a pedophile.
I claim the ornamental city-cock is an urbane semi-colon.
I touch regarded diminishes
In a double bind pincer action
Imaginary concerning the exclusive disjunction
To envision the ritual of Time
Swing Europe yoke of daddy-mommy-me.
I want to be another fly in the kudzu of yr armpits.
You are sopping low processing temperatures.
I vomit rear-view avatar-candles,
Naturally transparent and uncolored.
The magnets were masturbating stretch-mark transfiguration
Into the paranoiac nuptial needles
Predestined in the broken-omelet eggs of the Bush Administration's
Emotionally overwhelming vector-breasts, and you,
You were weaker than a sleeping sycophant
Slurping fiddles refracting a perfume
Of moral wet dream technicalities.
I line the make-do raffle with a padded tomorrow of raw veal.
What ventriloquism of gumptious pestles
& gossamer intestines!
I'm a useless tower, somewhere
Convalescent I plunge the condensation
From my toilet of freestyle mythic vortex bananas.
You can't play dirt.