Monday, November 30, 2009

carrry




----------------------- 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

trait




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

out

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

Jill:
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

tame

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

martinet

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
differentials
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





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

penurious

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

ramshackle

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

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
clandestinity

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

kindle

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

desire's





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




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...




review

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

Recessions

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
action?

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?
Faints.


____________________________________




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



Ceres was a lame goddes






She might have been lame, and crippled,but one thing sure was she aint geographic. And when she is its cause her right in the right place, the wrong yard, the right man! What kind of woman is this? a fluted case of gloves, a silk socking, clever .



Start therefore from the middle not the star. Okay shes rough woof to weed. Or the coughing blaze of body. Baize, say Baise-moi! Fuck me! O yes, around. A crossblanket of touching leaves. She's starboard to the helicopter, rescueing missions and revolutionary hopes. Yes, not pleasures, but the Andres mountains, the riverside glance, the contender of the world boxing class of revolutinonary sexes. What sex is that pray tell? I


_____________Over the green line its bed and roses. Grapes, cheese, and the clandestine bedroom of lilac trim along the wallpaper.


Not everyone comes together in fact coming apart,a part at a time continguous might be better. thus Mona's mouth became the many in the wood's of her lover's fantasm.




Wednesday, November 04, 2009

refusal reterri



A lyrical love striing. Comes around our neck. We pause, grateful for the beads that've made our love tick grow wide. And wider at each spare









This was many of its paradise peregrinating down that chute as the buckwheat sword played time.

Came again rivered to none, solo to many ~

Love was this way, its boots.


________ Mona signed her name. Kiss bucket.


Tuesday, November 03, 2009

the conjecture


---------------------------------------- For the forgotten fortune. And the travel

without Money: Strata 1978 and counting :

Charity is not an option ...he said. ... Something about the dungeon ...smell ... the shit hanging in the air. it's Paris, 1978, the year before last... Come along to travel, Fanny and Jill've buckled up their belt seats, volume of capital and shitzophrenticas is almost ready to . To what, Mona cries demanding her faux fair share of the capitalist's retreat holiday in a dead Greece land tortured island pirouettes and priorities and to say nothing of the guys getting their balls burned in the cells down the .... road Greece, that charnel house of immigrants dying to get out, and the rest of the hobnailed, regular refugees of the dead forever dying fat past.... O they die to go to USA and Canada and some hole in the wall shitbox, hatbox for new landed immigrants! to make it middle class fuck along the rest rich in the future forever coming over the end of history's fuckall to the end of time ... as for the rest... well..... Fuck that, you chart. Weary__ a boring word, what is it? an adjective? You shitface, its Tired of the red whore of the maps of England, the rolling hills burst with napalm. Call it getting ready to bring down the whole whore-faced hall. The wall! the wall she meant. Amantis lover of mine. In the clear dust lane. Of the awkward pedal fork. Jill says its philosophy with a hammer to smash her enemies heads in, that's her idear of fun... cheap bitch, tawdry stinky ass she is.. this dangle of danger and airplanes coming over Berlin, all that shit and hashish and the rest of the opium gold, and you know the apparatus of state power and the cuts and grab backs, and this shirking of 'truth' pedaling the old hole of the , fuck me if I know, Mona you lassie butt fucker whats yer name... shes watching the old movie, lesbian and man and woman and man and death sawn and death sword and death squad Sepia toned shit box for every hard ass hero in America... at Washington State... strata? I think its what s its called... you gasbag.... where was she? At the corner, turning down London town, 1978 after the big march and you know how it went, a power tripper came along and squawked on the whole lot of us... we got fuckedgood and hard stereotypes and spies tramming us down, and whats his name blewing her happenstance harp anal oral grunting and foaming at the mouth... shit those were the days.. weren’t they ... she harried herself too... headed back to Paris, she was what ? that year, drunk and 26 with Lady G in Paris, and the lectures ... in the cold room... yes, and back to Italy back always back.. back to back...back...




___________________________________________________




the lapsus

___________________


Overhead the heels. The right flank turning, the trouble trudging, and the spanking wet navy. Not wet like a drumbeaten peon,


she's held high the wax beam
bricklayers, and in her camp the soothing women of France cry storm hollowed meads, and
prayers work zigzagged by throngs of hafted widows. The touch of a dollar on the heel, the diamond
creep and flaw of love's bitter paste. Not glue, my flunky, but Jill knows better than to say true love is true.




___________



Monday, November 02, 2009

Hmmm of this

Irenic not truculent. Gnosti not agnostic. Agnatic. and utopian,thee Pipe eventing. The brother youngest to the young sons.
-_________________________ the grand poopah is reluctant perverse and invites wordless
not sayable there fondling, and sneaks around the nape neck, and crack of the ass. A crack so deep, one swim infinite seas in it.

O dear what lineal pervesities charm the camp, hell bound on swinging open the doors of the King's deisitc chamber! O Whores and periwinkles'||||||||||||||| this double venture's unseeable crevices tacked to the wall,of the forlorn hub, the whacky cavern packed with same sexed lovers, and gapers, voyeurs, perverts, lesbians, homosexual,sodomites, __ and this dear ones is onlly the most recent catalogue of coming to see, and coming to bear, the unique ones of sexual history, plasma and other darlings. Of the cyber stage. She's O darling dear the tinkle and turquoise suit you well.


____________________________ its just juxtaposed well agains the netted stockings and high relief bas of your bra. A naked twosome! An alone together! She danced cheek to cheek mascara slleeping an dspunk spilling all over all over the place.





born after

Born after Knight. The day's long lady . With her hankie and inopportune moment. Call this read, legend, make shit, and balance blankets. Dont' sear judgement from the songs, every trellis has its orchard and chauffering paradise past the prime plateau.

Jill's kerchief. Its the 1950's and jewels are very everything.



WOnders'll never cease down the byway and highway of self and something as thimblerigged as the old theosophical con....

Mona's happenstance is the glance
of and
Haphazard as the hussy
she's booked her any ....
and brooks no contradiction

Diction hunkering both ways, her sidesaddle
the trotting on of wishing hunt me downs, and love's hot bacon. The backgammon of truss and fuss around... one can only hear these things twice.



an d finally

 And finally you choose to appear  your ghost riding directing the plains and the hills and the feel of its meath


round the certain clear luxury of her arms. Bending bronze round the strong loving of your held two gether its song to whisper the holy ringers of the peaces of her pet peeve. Its love like a  rare bullocked maternal solicitude.


This way shes' horned the ways past nothing and time.

Limbs of Halo



Sweet pucker! Sass mouth~

In this way timid pilgrims bicycle their way along to the top, at the rivertide, the rapiers gleam, the repair men wait. There's room! there's room, come my lovelies, my workers, my producers, and consummate glovers of dear love.

If she spells f.u.c.k it's only for love.

The feeling geese honk! Scudded by the lanes of the sky.


________________ By the hollies the double bodies sat. ... In the hazelbough, came the rum humming bees.



Sunday, November 01, 2009

Peel

Yikes and Yokes said Jill and phone Mona on her desiring telephone
and they had -.
Okay. We're here at last, with no face and no preface either!|

This was an ancient novelty hyaline and unlatch. the ringing bugle bare its tone. O no not bare! gawd's sake matey! get off the prison cell! yer a sodomized plate that way. Get a grip You old closet freak!


_____________________________ Mona's 'cell' phone is in her shoe, shes shoehorned her smartfuckyfucksthat WAY. No one gets to see who's she's in bed of. . Copulating fornicating medieval villages.


Does that give schizo carte-blanche or alcoholic bustle, better the cretins know not thy self, its micrdotting glory!

I kiss thy vulva, thy clitoris, as a glittering most it moist jewel!

__________________________________Mona comes over later langour to her love.


_______________________