Saturday, October 31, 2009

__________________City _________________






Jiil _ a little ash under her nail. Polish and nowhere landing. Step to shore, shore to river. Bank to blood, carmine to determine. lets the pail out for caught the water and her. Niece was very well that way core to her resemblance, as in a portrait wincing by its capable resonance to the realist salt, the school blending and tending toward the unrealistic, and the mode disturbed by the model's asscrack, and her apparel, was a robe veiled by rubber tubes, kind it was and better, but not superlative her relative laxity feinted the hourly pain of concern, she was not made for such caterers and their bottles, or when the swimmer turns at high tide bringing her body back form wise from the 'deep' and leagues off her husband smiles, harvested b y the fender of clock work in Toulouse. She comes round then a mountain painter, naked as the day her brush was born. And his sexcock was hard.



Friday, October 30, 2009

29


Concetto
conceit______________________ EXTEnded MetapHOr manner Ism. She had manner galore. She liked to the way. its the double dare love. Lust by rave and night. O come all ye faithful. I am hussy to the softprayer. Come to your splay.
repeat a
fter
He
r
vers
toward your body round as naked. Come to its sweat. Its wheat. or corralled horses. Shes wild as stallion. Stage coach, wild dance girl.

petending a poet||||||pending a poet. pending. pending this Jill was sapped with love's square root. Her boot was tweaked with buttercups. Shes ugly as naked wind. Not campers on the plain. or Abraham offto meet his moth god, his monotheistic sandal.
Shipping thelimber for Issac she came the sun.


the trouble


Mona:
call it double space love. the trouble. its not troubel. its tubas. Shes clambering around his tuba. come all you thumbalinas and thimble gods. You gulag rhubarbian things. I have turnedthe jacent adjective back toher place.



Jill take a chance what have you got to win?

nut of it make cents

its double space love.

none of it makes sense


lunky


its not supposed. that means its working. so keep up your shoestring lover.
Frranny's elbow behind pushing up into her lover's face ~




Wednesday, October 28, 2009

JIll Blowing 2

This way the lamp comes. She's night and squired she's page to his boy. he's boyman to womangirl.s he wants her him. This way they've unzipped the body boy without organs.
Dont be a litteralist fool JackyD. Its about intensities . Zone of passion Ya dig.Shes the room to his
silhouette and tearing down his teeth.


Jill blowlamping her peepers. She's cuffed her embyronic shape. Her wrists untied his compose redone his come to hap. it hap happen'd this way.

shes lusting after this woman. hes a man. its me. yer me. shes hisr boy. yer his mama. Mama love swinging roun' the pole. North South lObe love. Suck yr toes.
shes in the land _ they make love he cry Mama. He cry O mama
of the midnight moon O the sun's the peeping thru her bedroom. she's yanked right into her down there all the way up her spine her cat her pussy her .

theres nothing she can do.
he pants her heart art
dig
and dig
yet he cant see it as much he can
Franny migth and he might
------------------
Jill hurries her hair. She holds back the string stir. it hurts rocking her night. her body's gone song in him. he's her.

__________ franny : how does one write?
how?||||||||||||||||||||||| One writes like this and remembers that the ...... know more about it.... than the ......

yes , yes . Love. Yes.

lunky

Does she think forgotten ?Is that it return love, reneutered its nervous neuron speak? a moron'd do better. come to bed. here. a chinese twotiming silent winner. O the winners! o yes them that got, and got. Well,us issue of the father and mather , we got lather.

Jill's grump, it comes from eating porridge, and knight and day. In the fat balky wooden forest as in the olden day once upona timeit was to cheat her double indemnity.__________________Mona's pedagogical and demanding dictionary. I am the long haul of her buried adverb and the Icewoman's saltine. Something along these fair hips. Well, the mother called and she said Mister Oompah you got the ughliosa syndrome. Living in between and in Rome does that. Don't it? The computer'd know better , supposedly. Mistress of patios and patois a la high schizophrenic. At dinner she garnished my leg, challenging me to ahomosexual experience of triad. She said one potatoe two potateo three potatoess makes you toesssssssssssssssssssssssss. Fuck of!~f Fanny winks, spreading her bedroom buttocks. Too thin to see and eye.

This is the sphere of nerve, and plenty and .



Tuesday, October 27, 2009

In spare moment

"Pierre felix was working on ecosophy and was a philosophy and could not weigh the difference between quantum and quality. it was like that. i was him, she was me, "


So she wrote. And in the plain narrative of its charm, she'd hear the Treasure Island and the Renaissance flavour of the ladies room. A man's favour granted to a serenaded dame can't be worse!


Now it's 1973. First lecture. Come again, what's that man saying! Its the scream of beaches and riot 'camions' coming to get us. O go off, will ya, I cant see my way out. Its smoky always.... yea yea, well back a t the commune, the hangout for communist drug addicts, and the occasional drifting in schizo , she' d heard all she had to.


Philosophy in the court yard, and then the islands exploded, the demonstrations got bigger, and the word was out, the macro spies are in the net, keep it cool. We're hot to fix, and love to love, fuck them! all sauve qui peut-être!


______________________ yes yes, she ruffled his waxen flaxen hair, its sauve qui peut my suabve Irish boy. Go back to your books, Mister ahahhahataud.





Monday, October 26, 2009

She's willing and ...

Okay you 've the troupe. The state and the Molecule . The Big data fat one sit sitting in yer head. Mona, no relation to Mona Miller, has a huckster in hers. She's a skirt in charge of privates. Her vates is papal and her bulls are popaliptic. She's kind to ruth and better to god. God's dea d but that debut does not mean she dont kick him around. Women want to sex with Mona, as do gods and nymphs . shes the bisexual queen of luxury and socialism, communism's darling.

She lives on a balcony. Shes a witch and mirror ridden lover, but she's de_reified her status. In the pit of misery she's been known to laugh off the drama ridden plague of her boring loves. What missive cans her retreats. No pious puddler she's begot numerous ideas yet none coming to furious fruition.


Thus Mona has a bag of synthesis and none work. She's not biographical at all. In the end, she's broke. You could say, in summa contra Mona, she's willing and able but not about to give her cards away.A foxy dame like this hasn't got a chance at reformation. so there you have it....

As for you Miss Delyrical

A s for you my little tinker bell, you haven't got a thing. Going . Neither past nor future. So settle your wild horse, stellar. Be calm. As the mist layeth down no thing,
and love's tawny habit' s a practice and long deployment.





_________________________ No too lyrical as far as Franny is concerned! But that's her problem now isn't it?

Sunday, October 25, 2009

For yourself

Geology is not her specialty. You can see that for yourself!


A man is a mutant: beans, straw, hay, broom, thistle, longing weeds lingering at the beach_head, and her in this sun. Here in that sun, and tomato feet, rhapsodies with long wool socks, and tomato skins that go to her eyes. Now what are eyes that see? Things which work in tandem with the cortex and the core text of this gal is balmy blame and her blame for everything. Call it unoriginal if you like, but it's sin to speed or nothing is nothing.

Between the edge the caliper of two fingers
loam
and off the clothes pegs
avenues riddled with bullet holes. Uproot your city o dyers, and melters of the human thing.
A machine's a machine and man made. A dog tag's a tracking device, for verve versus verse. Them that don't understand the English language don' t get that.


So Jill the city wore down the angel, grabbing her husky buttocks bearing her, tearing her down limb from limb till the self-made image of Man was unmade.


O Unmaiden of the Lord
let it be said according to they words as bunched like a pile of crumpled grapes
they string the beat bean poles

---------------- Thus Mona along the river bank.
Of a Sunday afternoon inTurin.

And the grand gallery above,
the homeless fox below
the chairs of the wedding set
the perpendicular gowns arrayed and
the dawn feast for none and all, if you could say
such a cyclic cultivated thing.....

So she tucked in way past the things. That matter and count recounting all and sundry and love. Love's little beat and tractor.

_______________________



Saturday, October 24, 2009

Never mind

Now she' ll please the 5th and plead the fifth. I effervescent never got the call.

Never mind the rain its only your subjectivity that counts. As you hop skip and hump. Was that a bump in the fifth ?

Excuses her self she's cutting numbers . O come again, really? I sat in the yard? and like then heard the 'soldat' he was coming. I could hear the name of the thistle branch as it cracked under his weight.

Mona: there cant be interruptions to this work, as much as you wanted to discourse it, and expostulate. Or say its expostulate it's too bad, but things do change. yes, they does. She does it well, like a jerkin worn inside then out, and cutting off her breast she's Amazon to a schizoid sense of beginning imbibing the 'true self'.


Thursday, October 22, 2009

if the rain



If the rain thin as ice thunders _thunder! does it remainder? and the sky she witch broomed blissblossomed aside its bewildering preface. To come again afore its rich presence her breast filling full his mouth. This way the was perhaps is its ever turning fruit.



Hither its period and the lambent airs are calm. As the feet walk home. By the river wash its linen keep place, the moyles of remembering the afterthought. Its precedent true love's cost, a rent free caliber of begining again then yet again its time weather day a true sign post say good good sagacious love.


If this is complete then your job is done. You are rivers away from home, and a phony to better your lessers


(and)Teething Mona knows the sense of lesser.


Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Hold your fricatives


____________________ Hold your fricatives!
_____________________ You Posse of sundering apes. Glad to be breast and beast we're mouthingthe ape of death, and the eternal rebreath. Come you wise guys, and second story gals, you're wisecracking seen its day.

And Jill undoes the nap of sack the wheel of farming couture and the baked sun. She loves this way, and gives all. Voila! ___________________ O it's down to brass tacks, the racket's unavoidable, and her gear's good to go. Lover's much mouth kissed sucked of f the running fin.
O fish!
O porpoise!

O rudder
______________________________ Skim the milk, and don't bring my bible. It's Jesus Christ the kidnapped one hanging off the cross of coal fried contradictionary.



Tuesday, October 20, 2009

AgNoStic after the Fact

gnomic lurking....
agnostic after the face. not a cheap neurosis bending....okadoka Mona genius in a bottle by
Tottel's miscellany we gandered
We heaped mean on pell mell

hankie
and kerchiefs

_____________________________________________________

She's tweeted her horn.Unbuttoned her buckles snapping the hoop makes love. Her gradient variety saint is painting hope and sainthood. This way her niveau is surfed to its happy relusions and forward march. Tramp! Tramp!~ O Counterpane!



_____________
that ancient anthologist
put the songs sonnets and varied other
verses, and poems OUt
yet he bowlderrized! some of it!
the old hound! cut_Richard' so called first 'printed' anthology.

__________________________________ Fanny's a literary scholar searching and hunting all truths, the slip of gloss and the remain of pen.


________________________O I Know where is an hind

____________________________


minutiae



JIll's minutiae is blue her period piece after the rose, And glad of that her prelude is biographical to each stemming leaf. Leaf to leaf her heart's a present pensum of __________________________ Non, c'est n'est pas ça chère ami.


In the minuet her skirt's slit reveals champion fields and netted stockings. THis way her huzzah is mated to any lover. You might call it a jamboree. Of sentences and odd gods, peter abelard's larded wax, and the nut from heaven, Heloise.


It's s slow dance, a heavy petting and panting. The rhythm of a song. Again.


__________


Monday, October 19, 2009

your heart's friend

Once and upon a time . It was schizo your heart's friend.

Morning comes a toothpick drys the wind. Love be damned, she's shining . It's care's the enemy . O the day 's a chopstick. In Tel-Aviv avid she wander the avenue.In the temple at Benares she heard the peacock, and in the centre of Minos, the real minotaur crashed through the wall. What signified its total arrest were the false . And then it was love's kicking bucket.

wicked deposit




---------------------- Hush~ t'is Mona mgm goin' home with another woman!


little schizoreno wrote on the back of her thumbtack:

--------- Characters in a framed narrative make Dumbdarrrriiidsz and their apostled gang angry and upset, those who are not literalists read literally.


Hmmmmmmmmmm and you think this clever? you little imp. Not so, as the Japanese've seen lucidly the thing you're speak. Come to speak. Vale to vessel. This way my hucksters. No trembling between fear and dreadful hoary books beach your combs. This way winter is the hazard all men reign. In and out, its perhaps out of the question.Silly one. Hush yr minor breath.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

magic carpet

Chiasmus is a cutting rope ~


Ever seen the Tao of Physics, thought Jack who loved K. and
laughed because he was so happy. Then walked in the wind to the nearest
elevator
to outer space and find a relativity vector slipped along the
cyber wind. Meeting her 'on' this magic carpet__ doesnt take much add
a T
for even
T
.
He spoke song her
name. All the laughter in her Troy and herstory and history too! He
laughed physics all day long, especially as he got in
K's manse and they sang again bird walkers in the rhizomatic mode:
the movement of the moment. Bye for now, he __.




Desire? what desire it's delirious desire
that ... something something something She's ripcorded agin' tippin' her halfpast.
Shucks we'd get temples for such becomings wearing these gowns.



___________________________


Mona scrabbled the air was sheep of fragment whimsical as the head of cheese, the ram goat bucking its swan ready for the old goat. Oh goan you silly thing. Yer' love's dog. Perish the habit, it's a trustworthy hope wishing a salt like you a good day. By the mother of the living philosopher herself! give us a 'break' and sure enough it was so.


________________________________ Fanny has an announcement
Her daughter, not exactly Nietzsche's daughter, speaks in analogies and similes. However!
We're not sure, like, we 're not, like whatever, how they have sex. If having sex is like then what is?

She woofs the shiver across her back.O they coupled copulated and love was hot something hot hot hot something .



Saturday, October 17, 2009

Has baleen'll travel

This has been no author. Shared b y the rock. Rubbed by mint. Cared by worn. she's tattled tabulated the origin of thing. Not thing or S to belles-lettres bleed its sacrifice. Or the I between the O the send over the receipt.And the legal love, of places. Martrys the sun, no nothing Mona fares martyrs but she parries the buckets rinsing their tender, and this way spending's made free a word dirty with its oxymorons and morons who've burnt the teeth of its try out truth. This's has become her love .... The baleen my monkey the baleen! In that cerebral celebration the weird god no, not that but the atheistic day shadows its smile over the eternal avenue....

noble



no no no noble laborers like those bums! she shouted it from roottops as tiny as tooothpick wands! she held it ticking fo r the passing word of love's drum... Or she wont take to the idea of Hegel the bum ringing its neck ...



over here she's whisper tothe love hulk...

of the gut her future is a dawn

of what it is to become what one is



_________________


a creator is a body




-_____________________________



Friday, October 16, 2009

the way its been

You could say and would do so, you mean, Jill was a slim jim. Ooh Oooh la la. Now careful with them lala's you know they're like winter frisk and frost. The more you hear them the more you want the moon on your lap. A winter sun hailing the frost. of captured planes and ribboned sheets. Like the wedding vow that never forgives. Forgives and then relenting as any painted throng of guerrillas and 'soldats' camping in the high ground of the town they're about to take.


Call it the sun and moon call it anything you like but its a conversation they're having.


Alright? yeah, okay so she discovered the Oedipus complex when shes's like 14. Okay Like I am speaking your well earned tale.

Come again. Plaster cookies and knighted columns the rest is history.

Okay she checks that out. What out? The Edipus thing which provokes the epic thing and Jill's roosting on the column, like Saint Simeon. And his skylight, his column of surfaced hate? O stylites of heaven and your inky blur. O inky blue. There can never be enough azure. O eremite of the twisted felon in the airy camp of desert and its fetid breeze.

Camped out in socks. Saint Simeon are you there? With your narcissus bowl? The lady with five children and flowers in her finger dividing self the heart breasted around its infinite oh ah ooh oohlalal?

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Was Jill born

Was Jill born first __ happy hustler of the ringing thing| Come again you question. Test your toes on the water, then knee the campaign! Aint she a caution, flirting the way she do. Not perish the thought, but hand her the dish. She's got differences rolling out of her eyes, with her old fashioned veil. It's worthy of all the narcotic sissy cats you ever seen. Now she's writing Hume the portrait of the philosopher as a passionate hero!


Jill catches up. Hither and thither her elbow makes Franny face feel better.She's Mona's next sister.


Some call it bonhomie. Others
suspicious of its concantenacious self deliver rhubards to the ears of .... substance. Mister Aristotle has beans in his bags. Mimicking all the Platos he can get handing over Homer he's got plot, theme, style, drama, and high mindedness all wrapped up. "All wrapped up" now there's a phrase worth pondering. And on the bus then? What of it? Drop it! paleeese. I am in the back porch? Are you there? Hum along my cherries we are split peas before the dozen of beans.


Like I am studying philosophy? She she she wear green pants and yellow skirts, and her brain is high-five to the fiery fine wind!


Yorkshire pudding and damp weeds down by the yard. We are a country of mazes an
d remarkable cups.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Rummage sale

Jill, has a sleeping iron. Of these there is no geology. At the desert's tongue, its bent part twisted on the sheet of yielding . She stand. How was she over the desert and as the phone was it Mona that, hearing its infinite plumbing .... Ran? it is ran She ran ran ran... As mister penman says she rain rain rain in ragtime airs and shuffling toe tapping and its the 1920's and what have you got there terra cotta ?

She turned the ceiling. her hand's thumb hooked to this cock that created god, hollowed the sky breathtaking pillowing the mirror the room the bluff.

O the hoodah and howl. Ink wind stains the mind. Roe and ram clinging the edge. The rock standing vertical it's a fan of limestone, keeps the dirt'n dust down. To say nothing nothing to say nothing off the distant.

Ambulant. Parent. Keep clean ... celerity clean yr arse, its gotta be white that toilet bowl... we're never too soon to wash that arse, switch bodies, care package. Over the regurgitated army of the south, the anteaters to north. Bivouacked like broken monkeys. She's got geology around her thigh pits. Are you laying down the vertical Mona_ stepping forth it’s the whore queen herself, now a converted Mama. Ranked to her fourth depth, she’s bullshit plaid in silk.


Scaramouche you’ve always been a blow-hard.

Mona wouldn't know





Jill hears it . The hears what? Does she call, the name

of the forest. Does it rob her pronouns perforce
of their strength and do the rivers bend their
tumbling seeds backwards on her behalf, this lefting
wing that strides its polars, rides its negative wings,
rushes the worries, hurries the hundred and one, the reason her temple is sound.



This way she knows the back porch is secure fastened with the bolting and leather bound booking, well , in this way her suzerainty is buttressed.
Its evident to her, in any case, her
face's come full circle.
She's an evidence lawyer to the very end, and issuing forth from the molecule's concatenated web her airs are stone sunned

.

Not a simple molecule, but a complex
rarity touched by the bottom of the wind, the wind hangs upside down its ringing belt calling her name.
And repetition is her game.

Mona coughs the killing call, representing anything and all things forking off the main road, and its lifted spoon makes the difference that is shining, glittering, mooning. Lest we seem patent in our renewal ( a pageantry of the missive, a whirl of the event), or petty in pleasant pending we'll seal the case with jewels and fox fur.



Love is this way, it always takes the box closest at hand.






Monday, October 12, 2009

imagine that you are

Of the psychotics who've known this page, you are one. One of the few. Imagine that. Jill shakes hair makes as if to stand up shape. Shape itself, running the water, and carrying on as nothing was going down. Going down was a property not known by many men. They had (presumptive) avenues of faith going down with them. Then turning back, she held her mouth open, wider than a tunnel through its unconscious, and bearing her wit south she soothed the vein of talk choosing silence.





That is called holding your mouth open,
and your unconscious too .

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Reprise

This way we speak. Resume t he work. Careful to carry it downstairs. She smiled, she worked, she payed the triumphant sun. Its horn ___ rocked a dozen and so. Or so, and like that, it stayed the same. As something does with every passing. This way, they'll be many. Waked to its chance, woken by every fire. A little bit further, they are almost there. A breath of it and a raft. Then bearing.... its bearings ....


Okay then halt again. pause Breath. Consume, Jill holds the barrier hefted aloft straight as any foot.

Mona _________________
this way then the earliest thing in the world.

Sunday, October 04, 2009

Doubtless

Diagnosis: double doublet the depressive, the control freaks. the maniacs. the shitfacesociapathicnormoid.

And the Mona ones dance around laughter in the face
of this

sickness, endless infinite variety. of pain hell.||||||||||||||| Shives, she shakaes fatigued. Not tired but bored of ghost, and their sarcastic war. What hauntings of these monstrosities. These remonstrances, not to believe but to submit to the fascism of lie. Ba ck to basics is a form of insanity. Only non-philosophy seeks such trial and surrogation of truth kisses, suckering of desire out of its beauty.

OIgnOble