Thursday, February 24, 2005

When the Saints go marching ---in and out


Jill gazed her gaze of Orpheus

thee only answer to this

is nonjudgmental striations of d
Sire of words
You are the sire of words
and yer mask falls down

keeping yer pants around yer ankles!

No pliaations for Franny! shook the tree in the wholesome soup of love and her many faces, not feces! lick my shit will you?
Ah! my dear, that is death, and I the daughter of Henry Miller shall tell ye so!

No we shall not makee politicsee, its boring we are the slavers of life and forth folly froth. Between thebuttons, around the cheese, entre deux lesbians, les gals de summer, the neuters de nuit, the trombones of thunder, le tonnerre de deux, the roup thorax of repeat, the petition of contrition, the mend of bend, the wax of wave, the saunter of forest and the great bend of foxforest sword number one!

what shouted Franny!

Mona's escaped!


Saturday, February 12, 2005

Poetic SuBjects

"We have to multiply poetic subjects and objects,
and we have to organize games of these poetic subjects.
This is our entire program which is essentially transitory.
Our situations will be ephemeral, without a future: passageways."
-Guy Debord

GuydeboRders was her Bestestfriendwhen she fried the jewels of night and its handmade plates, conning the imbricated nethers of her pools

she knew it was flew
over impassable louvers
paddering by fathers said with an long Irish a b c

not so nice
as Northumbrian rice
her face was thrice
its weight ice
a Cambrian spice
tipping her dice

not the infinite roll of blogs and bogs where Irish kept their place kleptomania of mania delire rifted between paranoia and schizz-figures shafting the unconsciousness ffff'''' of broken
and other
meritocracies she was bend and send
her arm a native thing to end
the night of hammers and friend
imperfect as her thyme and lend
her tilt to backward tit and then

Monday, February 07, 2005

ga UnclE GayTaRry EpI Sode 89 ExcerPt

Ah! EmmanuElle deux fois! Alors cest bien et bene dètre a thousand little sexes, and the pick me up thought of the dialogues of Dadadaddy and Clare as a bell in the hirondelle morning... So merry Mona reads...

``a close friend who just happens to be called manu (the well known diminutive of emanuelle) reckons that emmanuelle g. is _absolumente_ guat.....tari's (Lies ! Lies she forsooth Lies!) daughter and she got that;;;; name cos he was highly religus - in fACT he was
god most of the time when he didn't have a headache. But what manu woul...d really like to know is _which_ of the many Tls reviews conceals the gaytarri ....e raving called Plotinus!) and wondered if the review was ... as future the fiction of reckoning in her desire sands... about that same little book?

Re: And, and, and ....TLS.

Mona read the review in the TLS of Jan.2/98. But the concealed
photography cannot be found in that particular journal. In fact, what Mona
said she had heard about, was a photo in a biography of a former gay
worker in France. Mona never saw the photo-graph herself. Sorry
But she was wondering what substance there might be to the contention
that Felix was bisexual. A thousand tiny sexes, was it literal or a
figurative movement on the body without organs? Mona sighed, called the
who had seen the friend at the party who had said she saw the photo in
biography. Now the biography seems to be about a fellow whose name she
didnt know. Who knew the answer, who knew the truth? How would
she know with out the evidence? Was the plane of consistency a traversing
plane across the lives and bodies of the authors and friends of the many
travellos who had circulated all along and across the northern shores of
desire and speech? Was there a name to the sex that could not call its own
name? Was there a minority sex that dared not to speak its own name?
Mona called Franny. Franny called Jill. But Jill was dead, and
Jack and Jill had gone to fetch a pail of water.