Sunday, February 27, 2011

.... has never been worse


Mona is worse than the Cantantians. They, at least, are only looking forthe Father. But Mona's looking for "daddy". Schizo-sisters of desire myass.


My ArSeing Lord
what's happend to the gambit
at half mast!
Mona's a jewel roughs up the pages of all ages. Camps on the bivouac of buttocks standing room only her only cope.


She's a trollop on the third degree. Here are the mends she's gotta take. This one, that , and others. Bothers her trebled heart, her round table trouble and desire. Not the  bifana! O witch of the pallor, pulsing 
spin  ~
Aieee! Dogs! Knights!Clamour your armour. O columns and Italianate be your peace desist ~ .

_____________________ i have jerked off your smallest breasts.

_________________________________ Dont flaunt your fonts at me you wordslut ~ . 

Monday, February 21, 2011

One of those

schizoreneo @little wrote:
--------- Characters in a framed narrative make ----- and her gang angry and upset, those who are not literalists read literally. They make false connections and make precisely the error they wish to avoid. A void that is not their's but a black hole she creates thinking Levinas will save her. Ah, she says, I am psychotic, tell me it is not true. But it's true, he the Father loved and hugged me. Ah, but father was your word, her word. I have no father, my father is in heaven.
"When Orpheus lost his head, he found a piece of it in her mouth
Eurydice and her children in hades
in that place _______________________
                          (any space of death and ashes)
                                                         Orpheus goes to look for Eurydice
E. speaks She cries out after him.
E. has her own kids
                                   O. gets killed again, by thesong
                               Eurydice and Orpheus the Opera.



 She am one of those people who have been to the desert and carry it with ...
up if you wish here is nothing more useless than an organ.When you ill have made him a body without organs you will havelivered him is automatisms and resom you will teach him again to dance wrong side frenzy of dance hallside out will be his real


Tuesday, February 08, 2011

notion




we cld. get dirty here pretending.  pretend it's a prose poem of ruinous proportions and we fucked all night . as i came in your  _- over the the    while rambling around  Amsterdam Belgium France and other European capitals of pain

justify columns your ass was straight but not a heart but heart shaped asthe hatred the envy of woman the envy of woman her breathless admiration and hate of others the ones ready to overthrow empires for a look and the cool? collective unconscious of snakes fuck you mister nazi jung its a place where people work all day hot assed to the rhythms of terror





Jill knows better __ whores are looters. Lotteries are not lovers, the pale wench wrench's denial of love'sbeauty.   Cuttin her hair in her case makes no difference,she's a s sick as ever. As were the moles.---------------------->




Mona cuts along the friendly loop devoicing the invoiced anorexia of this pace. reprove and return to love's ode, no rancour O lover flower    ~