Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Franny had

Franny had fistulas to hearken her back beckoning her back and forth

This is cufflink to the gage forge. A removal to air. A snack to treat. Giddiness. A foghorn sneaks her out. Off the pleasure coat, and her hemming

not quote Mona's cup of tea.

Or pie for that matter. What is this rabid desire to be?

What foxy suite sacked her job, dichtomy of some feet, his arm around hers , the afternoon, her waist passing into his, the threshold overed, the past barriers past. A story tell of narrative and intent. Joins the bodies, enjoin them hip sex to sexhip. Lovers they are . In their way.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

in th e fl a g

In th e flag of immanence innocence the mouth wrought upright Mona knew what was coming what mingling

passsive and rapid she falls, fell , her head, out of , the dark "blue night" hunkered by the satrys breath, the stair well of contained heel , breath, and fortitude hoarding her beret her breast to herselves the charming feet of her chant an aesthetic easy pleasure on the denial of fretting. Fretworked tampered her face the wintry blues of her cabin "lost ashore" a finger tabbing a lip

gazing into a space ancient night her friend, not acne the tawdy powder of baked up women. Not Russia and Siberia was her lace to tie her down to the earth its eating baking and cooking not the exceptional font of her gruel. But the day by day passive of death, hers his and the others. A tune a twat to bat morality mother out of the window death and tis rank, not so ree

fuds it (t)here word hook to her Nose

relents she calls up the eternal on his side And? musters an allegory, symbol pitch of weak and ravened thinkers. some times her ass is on the side and she fires the gallery bastinado to the wind gasping pelises, pleasures and other gnomic struts to her comedian come down self - farts across the room knowin her erection is his, her neck a swan like evocation perks outward, her high caught breasts, and

his mouth in the rainment of decoding the resistance of self, she has the halfway house to gang in.

Marched backward and forward she does.
A Hoop to dance her deterritorialzing sex to his flinging shout, her collar dismayed by the chatter, the talk of

naked ness

. Nard the gift for Kings!`s brought to her, him. Meantime Jill invites pooride, Irish stew, and blankets in the rain, balconies in the high cost of the down wind while, lovers compete A one handed woman she is not a lout to her curliest desire she maidens him in the rain of oh to go, and none to stay, so Judas and so Satire.

However in

the existential they find another place, not called Toronto or death, or America .

Not a bad ending as endings go, that is not an ending at all.

Friday, October 14, 2005


a sensational logique of pounce when she landed on her street, or , meaningher feet, but the body decayed, calcified with memory? memograms off to the












the player went, whence a brain jewl was clustered, swooning off the edge of death. Jill was wrought the cymbal of tympanum and marvelous bog of breast and phoneme, a mouth-filled full is a space a s a somet hing whole ut really its an itnensive quantity ... not a phantasma or Asthma speakin of the bill quakings of ducks and hand filled creases where the te deums spoke and the deposits of his soil into her hand woke.

Not that. Knot the league of flecking high note C to come between the air and themselves
risking the Hulltimate

nounce renounce reknown the unknown the _ speed a heart learning eye to rescue Kit and the Duchess from the slag hop of the anxious bile

not so a love never borne by the feel of the hand along the caress of the ass her vocalizing take it take it

wont say ever ever nervouser than the feel of her unknown the speed a heart learning to fracture its loves speak to me all the way width hither and thither the blinking dawn imperceptible becomings of her hand flicked over the way it held the air between provinces cities and states of time, time and memory, what was it, that hurt me so, hurt her, the air, a dogged name for hope.





a coupling in the clamping eye, but not an imagining but a real.

Mona raises her eye-patch, the Reel? the eye latch when lip stick spoke its name, her stocking s bedraggled over the floor of my awning ... .

Sunday, October 09, 2005


fend and mend the burning gate the mouth its pretend for to hoarse and pave pray the muleteer will soft to say to stay her mouth a gay wipe of spread the special heart of dismay

befriended void


sun void

the fictions come a close

close caesura

ending void

ending vacuole

.. each mouth
opened offertory again the circle spokled close to the Huzzah the Hurray!

That day Mona phone Professor Gilles to say what was the simulacra doing beside her body in the wreck dream of the tatters of her mouth and the south saying crime of her woo to me in vale and hill to becomes the soldiers and sayers of her boots,a cry to heavenward heaved up the saucer of her song

and her let by play back!

was fleering her eyes the body on the south side desire plux the machine hay the have knot and the wire clause, ebbing beteen the days caught

Saturday, October 08, 2005

re-nounce |renounce

renounce renounce renounce endings are starts, fits and farts the parts of orpheus fairy fail the girl can't breath when her stocking feet hit the floor a fetlock of pail and lyre her mouth stopping the vein from speaking was a drama to play end, a buskin buddied shirt to lend the stages of communion and wafer ville, a cote-St.-Paul of the mind a tree never brilliantly met Eve and Adam in the sexual nouns of their place, her bad girl attitude, a hard headed one fretting the day it was born, a forgetten speech on the pavement of walk

and what do we do about

  • Antioedipus

  • how will its children walk ,

    our children lover of the banes and nights


    so here then our continuity is discontinuity its flavoured mouth not the honour guard of old and its surge

    -- Franny renounces
    Mona nonces
    no announces
    Anunciations of glad gildings. oracular verse of tower.

    Jill enunciates O sister .

    Fictions forward

    The Fictions of Deleuze and Guattari's becomings .... have come to an "end" and their continuation if you want to call it continuation , because it's more like sidewise chronology are to be... found
  • FictionsTwo

  • [but not really always an announcing not an ending]
    "Naturally" the two cross refer back and forth to each other in all sorts of manner, underneath and around cross and bend back around over twice!again. Begin start and shoot forth. Watch for the Third Fictions to Appear SOon! What is a Fiction after all, but an Appearance and a form Substance episteme and illusion. Each Mona, Franny and Jill, dancing their own jig. Is that the spelling of its own orthography, a drill design for forward faring and dance tongues in de night. I say they are herein "ended" knowing "full well" well-full and well and knowing herein its starts a design for movemente over to the starting line. But from a pure blogging view, the posts are too much! so many hundreds and thousands of words. Follow the links to the burrow the path-trail the desire-pragmantics to find the yellow sheet, the soiled sand, the tricker's heat, the lover's phone call,. the yelling voice, the gracious parting preceding by god's caper, the precession of skeptical oasis and the clouds of globes and glove of peasant sheet s hocked by hands. Ah! my fictions, my old girls. all the years they've baned us, and waned us in the tooting o f the moon and her medleys and spoofs the scorn of hope and love. A pen master to toot her ownsome horn the bellowed body of old septembers and meagre fathers, their feathers of accents and the tremendous drum of their sharing, not the rich priveliged lieges of travel and bower the power monger's suit, the travel of betrayal, the lover of old, the stage of new, her sweet kiss a death knoll on the hiss of bye bye not a kind way to send a staging way to free free and freedom.

    Franny lifts the sheets
    Jill points the way, the flogging of matter deleterious,
    Mona pavannes her dig, and worries another sudsome heat of digs finding the lover's nape.

    Good luck! my pretty ones.

    [very liberal ]