Thursday, December 31, 2009


Shes come to the bed . She s stayed there. Her and here was. It to her funsome . Not

so the quick seed of drama queen but the busting schizo lover wasthe Outside best. Her better become ... Fuck off to outside voices fuck off to their deaf mute muster....

________________At the coast yes. She's nurtured the true plumb line telling . Its lien and breathless fortune |Open the door and let me .lover

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

open your wheel

Okay husting s... along your boardwalk its the figures not symbols which count... O countess your .. fair cutting wounds make better sense now that you are alone. What seperation forces your sigh? Is it the cunning of morals backs your paste? and disgust fans its teeth.. disgust yes shame disgust . .. you dig around with whores.. street worker... shes the blameless duchess of backed up beds..a ass giving out drops by the window and this bacchanalia's come to its end... blanket quill and bare feet|

Soon you'll undo the mastubating tale of Franny. Come to her southern .

No, come to her mouth.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

sheer bulk has

She kicks in doors with that bloody foot. Come along y ou merry bastards destroy and deploy your guns of happiness your leg bandy bastards crime to yer shame. The fuck man with no arms, the crippled stink bastard.

Causing a stink she's in the brig. What a dumbass. Shoving off epistemes in the can. What a crapload is his fuzzy leak. Aggregate my arse.. that was a double fuck trouble man at the demo... Fannny's felix is gone again. And Jack's on the run... lam on the highway down the cursive cursed page ______________the idiots prevail.

Monday, December 28, 2009

pins have fingers

Fingers to suit them well. Hirelings hourly paid|Bitch wheat to fragment. Or to compose compose he compose and wrap wrap wrap. This way herds know better . The fist of rank weed and the cloud of cunning. Not quite a neurotic tic. Or the reductionist downtime. And the baking frost. and the canny heat. or the element of . Yea well if you know what she know you know better so perish the idea never utter its thought banish its conception !

This way rifts are healed by time's rugged. Yes, next what? Shoes you capricious goat.

Sunday, December 27, 2009


Its a gale you ... don't you ... ? no then... no echoes over the topsail.. its the gaffer.. no no.. O the leeward.. the pronto yowl! portside you there seaman... hunkered down the ball... the big thing there.. that monster.. yes a omygod black thing wet.. no cant say wont .. say . . it's o ... thin... g and then she say hurry hurry seaman ! have it down ... the breakers... O ! hail not the sail.. O christ ... with me... She's bailing ... O my swearing fog! ... she'shalf there... and ... it's tentacle...s ... noah's whale... what is that? she's Mona in her glimpse ... O frighteners and ... moonwalker..s where did it come knot on knot on sheet after league of it...

Push over you slave.. out of my eyesight... we'vebattles to fight.. kitchens to complete.. get out of her way sockets.. air to her signalling alarms... frostbite toher reckoning ... it's that trysail's ripped.. you're done for .... down .. she's going going .. goin ..g going gong gong gong gong gong

Saturday, December 26, 2009

loose to there

Loose to here's the pave to goldher harrowing fell timber in its great gossamer storm. Once in the off season her hair flew as the wished for summer . Bees and dune and fundamental cloth bore her churn. She was mother to the stormy and apple to her lovers. She was many in her taking to come around the forest. Her swamp baby ass hugged them all in to her weedy place. Come to me then I am mother to its witch.

Jill has no one like this so her cock's gun is sex to her fuck.
Her fucklove is listing her caboose. Off with her plainclothes back. Her back a narrown spoon kissedthe last reminder.

Friday, December 25, 2009

put on

Jill's however is whomsoever. And whomsoever the bell tolling for her rings the night wishes hawk of love. A picnic in the bed's roomy savannah. O the room in there's big as a hill and topped over with love's messings. O the lightening ! O the quiet ! the air and sea! and they button down their coats heading into port

Splashing and water coveting the shore. It's shore to sure and blasted the land lubbers, the double crossing cheap bums on the dock, and the randy hairy liars. Swindler and two timing pinchers. Crashing the word 's built an unbuilt derry .

Thursday, December 24, 2009

come along the

Watch time she's waited enough. the guard wont come. her mouth's filledwith it you know that book tasted like shit waxed with Polish onions. she's not a becoming shes a blockhead pickled with dust. An elevator worker in her spare time she's got minions coming for her. A jerk off artist to her left and to her right the god of fortune and fastimes. she's rented the cursed trail of credit. Not the moxy of the Grundrisse but the death of OGods and their patterns. Patens to the fusty rock road a cut ciborium to the riant goddess of her lap. This way two love in place of one.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009


This way no one. Before everyone. Fingered by its huffed out ruin. Not everyone. But after. But before. Not for. But give to its caster.Yank the high quadrant. A vacant hour of disaffection. Mona's chamber and the whole gang. A roof top healer a circus of lamb and roasted ... what a woman's breast stuck to her mouth up the banquet a large group fluttering...a sinking feeling ...over there a sea yelp a tingling sensation of Jill's breath.. coming roud the table she's got .. you by the collar... your cock stands heel.. freight to her frigging motion.... thisis prayerto its goddess loom....

Tuesday, December 22, 2009


A witch is burning . Her buns . Outside the thatch curses the air its plenty of buckteeth rattle the bones of rotting feuding knights. A kitchen spoon to wand her curse. Curtsy? this hag 's not borne courtesy to her womb yet. She's sworn her teeth to cursing the knight's grand illusion .

Courtesan to her thing Mona copulates the maid their foursome is death's door to its ox . A fuckweed to the terror of its learning.

Some half assed knight busts a gut husbandry a lost art to its furrow. Harrowing to its placement.

Jill's sack's filled with gewgaws bric-a-brac and sun lotion.

It's the late nine-teen hundreds . No one remembers the word for it... a cow paste?
what is it for god's sake!

Fell me now with your word. Fell me now with your asshands.

Monday, December 21, 2009

no one

No one hears it. Icon to its something. And she's mouth to mouth harmonica to . O and then her. Body. Worn if its . Yes. Okay. Pair ? come along mouth head your bog
main is broken. Dig out that pipe drain. ...

Thinking she loves someone she loves no one

You'll push this further and further

Sunday, December 20, 2009


it's something she heartd about. Some busted thing. cracked her ankle and ass. her potted neck. the wicked witch of thick shitstickings. Crusted by the mace word.

Saturday, December 19, 2009


19 _adapted___________her hate __ flying flags across the cannon shaft. The mast's down and the highland is gone. What does she do but bury the sun. Come along, what's the angel dumping down there? __ is that her widow weave on the dock? ____ She's wearing red and gold brocade and the hamper-------------------------- She's an expatriate the day she was beginning. It's music to her ears.

Is the ascending growl careening? does it help to furrow similes as she's beckoned to sheep? this way the world's an existential fold, marrying and furthering her coal hunkered future.

Back to Rheims we stood by the rain holding the night's fist, its cuff links standing alone


Friday, December 18, 2009


The knight's pledge his service goes as follows: but never as but only ever between it's the discipline of the finer gauze its ...a frogtrodden turf... the grass's sparse... mules tracking the area cant make out ... their direction..

in the center erections and golden vulvae
round the circle twisting ....

Mona cambers her follies

arriving at the strange land at last...

Thursday, December 17, 2009


Across the mesa ... clicking ... hooving.. the ping of rife shots... is ... no it's not ping... nor perne in the air the awkward beat of hate... cantering the lulling pulling feet... its not what you call the king's evil not in the land we're wandering.. roving ... as it ... yes .. halt then break back go four feet to the tearing sport over the plain backwheeling to the front... O say it's the wicked stove of night... transformed claw footed bearing coal...and other... ointments...? sheet of dull wind pile up.. the ... you have a knack for these things...
the din's a sweet pounding in your groin upping your spine to gratified heigh.... t .. thingslike that...

never mind the quiet rain ... the spooky do and don't we'd walk along the line... trimming our coast... sauntering its bud...

rambling its fairy ridden ... stalks....

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

rusty minor

If the incalcuable odds are against you what then is it beauty's turn to hold its horses? Open your doors O men the rain flutters its beats charging full speed ahead.

Over there the Empire not inside outside ... it's never ending claims reaching spreading pulling in talons ripping roping anything in sight gold barrier to gloom its hold on man's
spirit. Hold you horses you jets of war and hate and your infinite death drive... your splatter sungun .... ending life and ... the hand that cannot speak... won't mourn its primal loss...

Jill recalls the day of spring a thousand years... hence heading she's gone for river and splash calling up the brook and leaves....

its laughter.....

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

fall out raving ...


Your motorola 's busy. As the calvacade of its witch's broom. THe mouth wit cries your name. This way she's Sunday. Come along her hair strives for its foreign cry. No way! She wanting. wants to get off the medication_________prayer not medication__________Levitate! now air of fine shun! BUrst your melody ! bash the hell out of the sky! cover your forts! and castles! bring the pregnant forest down! No more bores....

Pushes off she does ferrying her way meeting what's her name? Substance and luggage powered by the ages of thought's furtive gamble.


She'd call call and call
her hand mouthed the receiver
wanting its
her sex


Rest Pause: Memoir of a lover .


Monday, December 14, 2009

say idiom

idiom's chain is for the cheats. the hook and fish down the Seine. its where the tawdry ones sit, primping their proper papers prayin to get into the tour eiffeel. what a farce! an arabesque of frilly and wilful kneechoppers. goes beggin' the question.

and this was the age of reason. the detail of love, deism and infinite fortunes of love.hanging on her every word ...shagging the lakes pelting the wings.. the marooned boat, and the straw hair her twisted pubic .. boarding the boat of the body as it's made and unmade and the gangsters and bitches are sent home the cold ones that cant and wont speak neurotic to the pious pretend degre

This Mona and her swigging ...

Sunday, December 13, 2009


_13 fuzz (y)

fuzz aggregates humble the palm and return the blossom . off trees and other singular . o yer sage brush's no good here matey. yer stuck at the cusp of the rearward admiral's navy. our boat's busting butt and dragging seaweed ranking the night hawk over the peninsualar coast she saunters her sexware down to her pants her ass wear glowed to the dark a brass breast on each side of her chest/breasting to mating the throng of male desire his long cock's belong tooted to the whole boat of her bucket

_____________________Franny ponders the myth of gold and bronze allied by night.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

read glance

From a reeding glance romance tothe star/t an dthe tattling consonant.Spires paraded past the .

Mona cant see with her stop glaasses. Shes's looking for a job hooker with a past career, others have it up the ass. She dididididid. that one, blonde from Europe./her blonde anality was how Mona ordered it up. Mother with an ass, and nowwhere to go. Come along sister geology is this how you see things: a shadow at the lawn,a permanent treasure to mark the incoming snow. Or the landing with the togas on it and and the mantle clad lover masturbating furiously as her night'll let here. a writer's life is a whore. a hove, a novel baiting her prayer. COme again! you off to the gulag!

Friday, December 11, 2009


Mona grief-ridden struck with a certain doom fore to its merit cuffs the manning sheets and the iron weed bedded to her property.

Jill pausing at the finest time to feel out the tracery and the whole myth. Combining its weather makes the ciborium a place Lent is collected. Not the single trust of many ... but a phrase's machinic privacy its producing engines.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

fall in

Fall in you heavy truckers

Expatiate expatriate run the winter close of the city of friggers, the difference engine of pining yearning the malaise hour of the wind cadence caught at the kerb's deepening coign

---tip~t ~ip toolip
herbody blossom cry to me mama

_________________________> to be continued: Mona letter to stamp around the yuletide fever.

This the city streets near the Sorbonne and her calvary afterawkward.

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

for the bird

For you know this is the case true _ appearance reality its derives the sweet lips widened as the mouth across the ace

You shush these sweet things come round your house falteringly and she comes around the falling of her skirt her devour of O O O yes oriental what can I do capitalist lackey lover?

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||Jill holds her capitulation highly. As any mother might. she's caught to wolfing her sandwich down between beers and the seminar at Vincennes.

________________________Don't borrow your worry!

__________________________edict edifictation


Tuesday, December 08, 2009


One was two leveled between the heterosexual chain and homosexual .. the face spinning this and that and her mouth kissed the other grabbing its temerity with all of her might....

clocking was the easy way out cloaca to cloaking some odd and uneasy morphematic semblance? its a pitched dark thing brown as the egg. what as

__ the asshole've ruined G.
No way.
Yes way
Non, come to my kitchen. Take off your kick ass shoes peel off yer ass, come to my kitchen of ... genitals and peep... something close to the endless infinite debt of piss....

Fuck those flowers! they're made of mud! of shit and lime! the gush goo of sentiment of the hoariest gaudy sort the shite of capitalism!mud fucks and rugrots ...

I dont know what she's all about ...

sort of asshole divinity school

where the whores take ph.d's in mechanics and round table discussion..s

all things are unequal and a fair whore comes to your table door... bearing shit and plates of grape fucked around the plinths an European calenders of death

_________________ Jill comes from the lecture: greek tragedy and families
blood blood and more blood
________________________S' blood _____________________________________

Monday, December 07, 2009

string of pearls


_____An asshole was walking. Walking. A woman her lips counting
Does it don bootstraps to gild the lilly perverse to its sending love? and love's the pad willed the thing to death, the laughter under her tears, clandestine desire giggles

This Mona saw the secreted joy. Love was a sister in trouble like the weird analogos and the anagogic past and the cousin bearing her something and other and th e rue body without organs and the nationalist pigs

Sunday, December 06, 2009

depart hence

Depart hence you heavy cogitation. Knight of the spurred knee. Rambler of the rhetorical high weed

|a face giggles hidalgo to its high bender . this way none see. it the ridge and curve of its shutdonw she's past the gate engage to fertile summers and lifting the plate she saunters in and off the wheel its samsara to her shedding peel ~. Not any snake will do.

Saturday, December 05, 2009

cogitation at the library

Open your brain these works are full. Cocksure to their rattling comes the twine and the rackety thing holds.... rigging bangin head tangle its the veriest cut of them which forces the duel and the knee high breakers come bashing ...

Wait Jill cries my circus self wont hear that thing again... Mona impatient wont wait jumping off the boat at drydock it's Marseille and she's hurried to see the willowy beginners of the parliament... they've kneeled before the one that's coming in her two and many multitude mulatto to her drive love pelf ~

mona deterritorialize

She winding unwinding it moves hovercraft to the boeing self. Not a seaplane but a flittering ring nearest the end . THe port and pier and the gully waves trample the closed forest and its rough rhythms not these slippery blues feet and the counting range of the accord and the hung for wish and the sleeping mister

No voice is worse than those the pretence of beauty

Friday, December 04, 2009


Hinge and cannon pastern to putty the body's gruel joint . Fetlocking as the hitch over ground and the filming gait as twitching doesn't do your promenaded to the end of plane. O the plane so white ! so unsaid its consistency a blue glue a white pair an unnameable want

You'd chase for nothing its spring like things or bouncing wire along the pedestal of doubt the sedate elm and trees of want.

line up

__________________________Jill'd have none see her. Her becomings invisible are precipitous to its daring and like any cutting boat, she's ranged outher own becomings. She worked and this way her wanting became ~.

Mona's ghost argument with Dereader is a haunted story of false pride! and hardheadness! it's a lie from finish to start off page 1 in blogolese!

Thursday, December 03, 2009


We' ll clear the wreckage and then stampede the working days roosted by the hours of nigth and the factory's vain clock missive to the restless second ticking the misnomer to love's berry its bedtwain love.

No one holds night as certainly as your hair.

its fair to see its ornament swing .

where he lived

Where he lived varied colours. The rain's a husky weed capital.. the knocking suburban jaws... the linked eyes and pedimented roofs aROund here the houses are crow-stepped gable and the waters downstream from the lake muddy the local brook, its creek and puddle a pontoon of dust and dirt_ sometimes its dirtier than a maze and the blocking woods- the forest especially the 18th c. variety cause lots of problems.|

Sheesh! that haunted the river gabled roof! and splendid our artifice far away from the others ~

Save your breath the haunted heels are coming. Knocking back their sieves and pretenses.


Wednesday, December 02, 2009

tonight everyone's holding out

Jill heaves her brain. Carrying the stick, its rough edge weft to her cane and cain is just the able of the othering half of its wicked wit, its lip hip shit.

Marching quarry to 'end of counterpane' encountering Venice first time. The piazza. In this way she's during the night its speedboating of lover crafting. Symbol to its sacred list.

Listing the canal's face wicked as the tender pearlgray of after. Is that a mist a mystical? Come again silence. The 'deep schizo repose'our friend Lenz in the mountain. After swarming the restless plinth ~ .

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

shipping out

Doff you coat and cloak you dumdum. of the seventy two . fluff an' flagger. Shipper me seal and porpoise. Over the black vaulted pipe of the water laughter of the hounded breaker its peeved up rent in the garment of its face. The sun balking. Across the 'sea.'

_____________________ Some call this strait 'the mouth of hell' as she whirled it off round round and rounder's belief, crafting her willnilly passage ~.

O Hottentot me hearties Ahoy yet breakers boom , on the sand .

Monday, November 30, 2009


----------------------- Crusted lava laminate_____________

Over the summer letters and the enunciation she heard . And the veil. Sumer cared. And the overwalk and beside. Shear telling in its alluvial mist. Moist near to If these foolish would then this never might have become what it was and running it overcame its

So stop .

And has .

The stormy sea daily and working
toward the vein

This'd take away to carry its box. not a soft too tune to wreck its shipping. Piping on the twain

Call this appellation not interpellation. As when a man covers his crack. holding his swain martyring the soil of his body and the holy ghost comes. substance of itself full god and man the tarring wheel, cruxes to mystery compounded by real presence and the nard and air
crammed with the juices of the what? Mona 's head's busted broken hung down saddled off dangled mist rest

_____________Jill foreclosed on the moth battering off its ennui glib pule ~


Sunday, November 29, 2009


Characteristic: if I have been a night worder. This way she heads. Off to horizon where no plumbing zone exist. Not the sutler of the mysterious waker in the hills or her brother but her sister calling calling wrangling the night out ....

Has she held this veil her temple and tremble quivers to its close by song and the resting pauses reposed to its arrant selves... wished on the air of its song....

Jill replies her love ~

Saturday, November 28, 2009


Get out get in my love moderation. He's love sick to the moon today and the carrying rush holds a bird call. She won't hold back the worthy knights, and the ladies fair square of love's wish. He's hard as nails. he 's got to play the role. Holding up his side. Not a word of faith, her faith's sealed in mountain top hide-outs. She yields and the plane of escape's love's nought.

Friday, November 27, 2009

toggle and stagger

there aint words for them. over that hallway. Light up your fuel box, mister. It's time you split the checker board in two. No one's coming to your home, nomad. It's bloody away! and tawny! the shipwreck prior to every receding dawn.A oxen a geese, a bull a shady worm to highlight the day and a rose her leaning body awkward as ever. Crippled by the feet, sunned by the dog, the wolf pack and its throng of bellowing, yowling an yelling!

_______________________her ideas about the body and the cry of the marsh.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

true to feel


True t o feel step past the intensities of this fatal plateau /its breath caught snare /snaps down/bones/ knee caught break/ coil'd skin ought its /

cold breath borne/

close to the acre the boat hulling /off its side/ sifting/
hauled its / rope swaying /side

No I here to disturb the cement/

Of the padding of the cell/

___________________ resting her cause, case, Mona at Bedlam. Looks like that way doesn't it?madhouse jim and the shaky shaky do-o-do. No mama here to console yr four dumbell death. Breath held to the uppermost catch.

___________________________________And come again do visit us at post office box b.w.o. our intensities pass better.


Wednesday, November 25, 2009


He feel this hour its burst upon the plain grazing ruminating as wishes do over watering buffaloes or how her hips stretch meeting myhands fluttering cowering over her thigh, hip leg mouth to fur of secret wished for mouth

.Carried by weather and time. returned tuned to love's bawdy. If Jill holds her ass

does it mean she loving him, hipped to her solo butt ass of god and goddess breaks the dawning night of their loving all nightlong mouths.

This will becomed to her becomely as witch's brooms and feral feet frog feet and then other bark backed chairs hover in the air of the sucking seed . Love which is the fourth saw ofthe square world always knew their name.

Crossing the road, she's yanked to her mouth bred to his loving catch, cocked to his

winging lover body.


Tame to this wick,

wicked to this incest she huffed her mouth over his sex wondered at his beauty, she circles, cries, mother mother, as her lover ~ --.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009


But strict she was stricken in love's I am on strike and no one can say the difference to its obediance sand the form culling round her ears.

An uxorious Socrates never obeyed. Uproarious she never understood the sense of parole versus word this way the tea is served bought and sold. She's breaded down to it now.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Now that's something

This way Jill's got headgear and that's a lot. You've read the things. Ok Mister ... mister... who theology? golology? a broken poem standing down rears the lover's head.

We' come closer to it more by time than
by space

of our departures
and loves
the block causes more Knights to take up notice, standing the spare chair of love.

face the .... front

Benison. As its capture. captious as its heel. Paris to its svelte and sweet and the book underlined by her lovefinger.

She wished the revolt to come. As it was meaning free airfare to love's hangar and the traffic designer of love. An d the fair 'dessins' of the lady a t the subway recognizing 14 years afterwarding. Les contes de coloriage and her hair expressing itself the way she does. And walked over. Sauntered to its place. She was very . And so it was. and this was wisp of its care .

Sunday, November 22, 2009

mend between 'scenes'

___________Plateau of categories 1984; Domains of sureness; The cognitive release.

--------------------------------- Who was Pierre Felix the seconde? In the one home to her other sexed being?

Pierre felix was working on ecosophy and was a philosophy and could not weigh the difference between quantum and quality. It was like that. He was him_________ the sujet went banannas! ________ she was me, kathyacker came to myplace 74 Roi bis we made lovefucked. She was on welfed _ the I into welfare and rights. We made the fool proof soup living alternatives. I returned to Paris, confessions of a philosophy fool. Later when was later? later, a jerk guitarist got became jealous as Kathy went off with Michael, and Josephine came to me, Cranly's wife . We made the schizz-flow in the cartographies of demain.

(that was all confession!)

(shit repenting! Jill's screaming get out! out!
damn it!)

Once Pierre Felix was out with B they met C a poet from Montreuil who could not speak French with any heart . Because he was raped in French, he was a kid. In the foster-home.

They had no one to rescue him .

If these things be true then nothing is.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

bring these

Bring these and those apportion the wary tarrier and its cap of muzzle. Jill's root is the winsome fair, its gruesome beat. Not the hallowed air of loves, but the bivouacked hearth of wife her lean plucky is its harbinger. That was the forest is full.

Hurry the men! hold the harbour we've almost found its word.

Port in site they sainted her.

Friday, November 20, 2009

its best

Faculties of winning the charge and brigade. The lust , and knee, thighs showing suggestive light . Her air is pair skin lips lighter than lavender. This has rain it is . Rain

Lifting it the whole skirt falls and hes tumbling overhead heel legs rub to her footed up-trumpeted toe this love gust brought him round the down her love

This is love at its best

sighs of brief _____ relief string the strong air its becoming a wonderful thief.

Thursday, November 19, 2009


Jill standing . Air and the king working. The night is calm a bear to break its last finish

The shale her only home hold its antlers her night still .

Wednesday, November 18, 2009


For time was beside her time
If they just leave her alone. The wake and exhaustion'd go.
She's relented this air that chambered its echo the fair wind.

Its not fretted this air for nothing pulling the void wrapping the skinny things and the clavier, the brown polish, and burnished leather couch. How can that settee replace the moving finger, and the plush carmine ?

What does she talk about when drafted by the moans?

Tuesday, November 17, 2009


It's a hit and more, a ramshackle barrier

Buckle the chair, sooth its rough back, the talk near narrative blustering the bane
and forwarding its nest

__ Bend your bows, that way the hull grips tight its stead.

Mona shipping her shanty , the tune.

Trackless its the depot depth kills.

In a flurry rushing the boat past the view seen by many heard by sesame, its appearing pier.

Monday, November 16, 2009


Perennial unconscious hear our word. Hear that vestment flicted the interest mouth copping its weigh . Jill's precious bakery is care. Not the watered thing dangling from the trim, but the box with the foreign gait in it.A fair pioneer to deal. And Mona gets close to Jonah the thief Jill mocking her terrible feat.

On the mountain it circus and cries out Call my crowd! call it ! the mariner speaks.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

sideways and

Sideways agog the clambering reefs. Its au-pair grant to the knocking vines. And the trellis dons leaf. Not barbarian as the sun but synonym to the moon. Have you seen the cognition of it ? ferried its troublesome thunder and the break ?

Mona's sign is the half-goat.

Jill minds the arras holding its being between nothings of tear and sheep. That way the bells ring for nothing reminding their purpose the sheave of air

Saturday, November 14, 2009

if Jill

Jill go shaking the fat of my heart, and the dawn breaking the wind upon my heart, the clearing our heads

If Jill's this on the steps of memory the blocs batter her treasure secret to its

As a student recalled that and others forfending pretending its doubling
round the late
70's and early 80's
and the rough decade
dark Antarctic of its cataract. This way the series was pent out of grape leaves, arbour and chasing nun. She's nun to anyone cares to look.

retreat forward

Mona retreats forward a passage marking memory's black cape. The rail of defining and conation a splendid fiacre of reunion, the belly button of earth its seventh day design pearl like wisdom its beginning prudence its fine gesture.

Jill's fiasco is the ever lent the cloud the city's factory its father and mother. And the other stories series . The copperplated earth sears the throng the wedding is halted.

Friday, November 13, 2009

grace a votre

Grace a votre gentillesse . The votaries of kindness the mellow of russet, the camera of grocery stores and her body slipping round her pen narrated the kind feel of her caught in the middle like any trooper she wears stockings, and blandished by keyboard and tapping tone she'd married the wrong customer. He loved anyway, anyway he could.

Was her thigh lonesome? of course as it was a cloud longing for the pluck. She said her words a carrier of spelling and riffing

Thursday, November 12, 2009


track the kindle word

On the back seat root and boot of roses, near that lilac marigold, chrysanthemum and biographical poses, the whist of root and peelings from potato and the rind of lemon,

In the cirrus lemon there's trees round her feet. Shes curling the lime tree to the ceiling of the sun. Citrus is too much, and alongthe colonnade naked women their asses glorious as god slay her. And revive her puffing chest __ this is love's first buck, and its good to become a reindeer on days like this.

She's naked in the birdcage with the woman from the bus.

It's love, love, and its naked ....

She loves their fleeing ....
Her curriculum 's done, and the syllabus is floral cursive toes . The custom is that at the pumpkin time they break the wood in two, finding four crosses in its stead.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009


a cloud of words Mozart the night clopping. His heels. What jester heels do render a knight heels? It's the cloud capped snowburst rising on the rainbow. That way heaps of nirvana fall on your head, the spiritual karmic atomic rock and roll. And Stravinsky the Russian bear, rifting those tools of the fireplace, and the sun's prattler, and the majestic lintel of berries and chairs, and this too has Mona's heart in place, her faring wheel and the feelings of factories and the applause of geese and the hamster of choice

bitten into the wounded sky marking time's silence with the blend of the forks in the wood There where choice has mated its favorite thing and the pasture of pattern the river of return the vagabond voyages and the Sirius of thought the melancholy of rue

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

born previous

yes yes born previous embyronic your .

along the zygote the endometrium . And trumpet trombone troubles. Alliterature like a garden a boring similar. Speaks as like and upspeak to her waitress. this way it garners she says. what? some man asked her was it so that is a good book? a good book her eyes was moist counting the shekels. Inside the hospice lying . the sick and. the Lepers at the boat ready to take off. Shepherd guide our thoughts and prayers, chasten our sullen transcendental hangoffs. Return the bright bird immanence's song its thrust.

Kicks Immanuel Kant right out the door! the boot goes flying! shit where did it go? Shes gone her kant wild in the street face of the door. Cameo to

the voice

The voice say no good good clinamen climatis. Of these gold there is nothing but air. Of these choirs, the bees, the string of connected. Around its paper the world caught its breath. No one dares , you hear this, Mona and caring past any result huff over the ridge.

This will be air, and roam. It's the stir cup vat of the looming moon, and the molecules sing the page of your heatlh. Rearward and rewarding the darling socks, the column reaching further with each spine stop along her grilled way. Catching her breath .

salt shaker

The slattern sky and salt shaker have their moments. Mona has her's in the air, rare as the wound that bur
sted from the side of the Christ guy. Gyre round his neck cutting beveled spare ribs to Adam Eve and the Satanic packing .

Jill sees everywhere Jesus compound in the cosmic toilet flusing the flotsam jetsam
off into the sewere. A catacomb for catatonic refernces, hebephrenic flight, and if she's lucky two way tickets to boot camp and back. A lucky girl is she.

Memoirs of an idiot.


Monday, November 09, 2009

pink and blue corsage

_______________________ Mona fRanny and ....

Listen darling word. Shes not spoon. Supper but bearing dark on her ribs. This's way found along thee spine. Puffed round twisted the twine? She's near to nearby there. Recite after moi inside her mouth. Shes caught between good and better, that's not caught its best. Shes the west.Hes the . Hes thewest of her ear.Round the back of her brain cap, called a head. Her heart fritters no its spans roofs,bridges and rooms fulled with the thing growing.
A bigger than city. Larger than lake and brook.

Now his cock's inside rocking theyre rocking lockedin the spacehull of her body. hes her his. his her. its double out. andthen more. wont say. at least thats now.

Jill signs with sigh ~ .

Sunday, November 08, 2009


Imperial shudder. Caesar with the soul of Christ. Christ. and the saints go ...
tramping... trampoline like any goat ...something like that.... why that? take a thing a thing anything a n y thing...

a narrow difference Mona gages the boat, lateen to her, will, closer in to land , than ever, to land to land, leave boat, step ashore, dry land under ... careful carving ... what's that foot underneath?

A home a home on the range, not a jingositic path to a death camp. Or a nazi swineherd dog, a city packed with dogs. and bastard bears. not dashing ...sword swashers.. bucklers... the bucklers of bargains and hunters of dimes...


Mona fungible or fun? for every tatoo shes got a Giotto. And a grotto. A grove pencilled into her ass. She wants it licked. Tasted, gooed and glued. Marshed bodies. heavenward splashed. Melted into her mouth. Rubbed to her tarnish, tanned her hide.
This way her come along with me yr have faith'll travel.

______________________her lover wears a size seven. wont you climb inside? yes. I do.

Saturday, November 07, 2009


She has clad, her clothing off. its off a switch. A witch wearing her broom boomerang to her 'to her' and its coming round narrative its belles-lettres blessing.. eats that spot.. hungry.. the cloud round her garden a den ...d 'en
den what? its the hip shake of the prophetic I ache your ... ache that's not a word a word
order order word shes coming round the bend and its three oclock o'cock in the....
shes going blow ass ... look at her move ... lady demure in the subway sitting prim and not so proper ... O hallowed jeanS! conceal yr power! take the woman away from woman!
give the power to the seat... Mona being a becomingsexualsiant knows this is truer as anything shes come in his mouth with her cock... How does 'she' have a cock?


In part 2 ofa previous drama:

My mother the porn star(t).
Turns out he went to bed
with her everyday.
So that might explain
the hip causation of the
above named fracas
Why one mother and
not another she
thought, that is, the one
we already spoke about. She want him to say Mama as
he you know what we cannot
censor the plain truth
but we sure can disguise it
simple incestual pornopunk?
is this punk or royalty in

At the Senate hearing
Jill heard this:
I went to bed
with my mother daily (he smirks... nightly preying across
his thoughtscreen)
she initiated me into a world
of delight satisfaction gratification and joy thats made
me a mature becoming.

Flowed toga women murmur!
No, No!
O Non, Niyeti!~ Nay! O Horror!

A bunch of bumblers... grumbles Mona, her hand under the catch of the ancient ground... Shes got the lenient look on her. She's hammered into the wall. Its all she needs, ten and then none!
Ten bucks and Id do the entire senate!

Back to the confessions here
of the starlit Jill Jack Oonadebonah

Hold my cock hold ithold it
it keeps me happy as you
it keeps me happy and real
in this unreal world of perversions and capitalist gas.

-------------------------------------- She's holding his cock and he's realer and realer and she's real to real, and his hand's gonna sink into her softness that's the match the tinder to his cock lightening. Stick you could say stick.


Dizzy spells

The mother wants to. have an oedipal real relation to the daughter's friend. sensing the sexual charge between them, shes not at home, so flinging herself on the Son she says: I love you, her gross lip blubbering her daughter's boobs feeding the newborn infant. What afuck is this. Franny says its a controll freak, patrollin this her daughter's desire for __ getting the fuck out

Mona dons her crash helmet and butts in: do me out of this, and I'll wring your neck! you hag of the seventy dourfour repressions.....

Compassion is not a ring that desire holds close to its heart. She's getting peeved, and ready to ride her bike of f the people precipice of this dirty craven plateau which aint a plateau at all, but

a grimy strata, stucked out with the shit of the crummy poliics of a family

bashed around by the delirious races of history, and its mongrel nightmare.

What does Jack do? He moves out. Carries his pasteboard on the boulevard. Hes on strike, and no one's gonna get his goat. No gussy faced ___ O but its not her fault, say the representatives of the triangle of Mummy Daddy and Me. The real son, pleads with Jack! Dont tell anyone! The mother begs! Dont tell my son (her actual one) Dont breath a word to my daughter!

A house box of melodram and pathetic and not even remotely shameful stories hidden away that candle more grief by the hour.

In another episode the real girlfriend of the actual son tells Jack: O and please dont my boyfriend, I am worried. And everyone is worried goinng round in circles.

Mona's comment: It's a boring Renoir painting and I am getting out gone split, vamoosed, skedaddled.

Gone .____________________________

________________________> Come home to me schizo! Jill puffs to Mona.

The real daughter in the meantime never breaths a word except to say:
Things are not what they seem Jack!
__________________She's married, by the way, to an absent husband. Shes suffering some illness that she cant and wont talk about to anyone, 'specially her aboved named Mother. The mother knows something is wrong, c ause why is her recently married daughter not at home with her nominal husband. He, by the way, calls everyday. He has a daughter, recently hatched this daughter. __ Mona pulls her hair out, yegads, tell it all! get rid of these soaps paleeese.

---- There's more to come and yet more. An unending series of traps, and taboos, (trap door, ball an' chain) block outs keeping anyone from moving.Including the drugged rich schizophrenics of the capitalist asshole.

__________________ This is called Love, this is called Responsibility.

_____________________ Mona falls over
and guess what?


Friday, November 06, 2009

cheeky bold


Ship to ship ahoy my little bells! yer play den is don! the capture's begun, in full order, marrying and murdering the freebes. Blimey and blow me over, but we gotta blow this popstand.

Comes to her see hers. Its hers
its ____________ooooooooooo.

______________________ Come along and cup my ass and we' ball twogether. She lives around his beside body.


Thursday, November 05, 2009

seeds and coat

_____________ Two nights are reading: Mona her paramour and the dog. The train gets on leaivng the bites behind. How you do that Mister Detective? Are you the spy of love's wicked bucket, its frummagy potatoe?Toes like that arrest the poet in her pint like shape. she's got caught loving the wrong man. O well, we take it, back. We are recovered heroes.
A knight reading. Eastern Europe which name was born. Centuries then and back. Among the olden Greeks, yep, remember 'long Thrace. Seeds and corn the Pythians rammed the hedge coast. Something to write to Spartacus about. And to say nonathing more about them spies and beast people from the upper end of the Empire. Reading the enemy.

You dont speak English. ... course, Im a little slut of the Empire, Ive no language teeth in my head, Im a bloody wound. Okay come back to here with me Hamlet.Miss sweet buttocks, thy ass is cry.

These roads are empty the echo of memory shades them
the doxa of the ancient hills