Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Veiling Mona

yOU'D think she was shipping out when she's only (really) just arrived composing recompensing her loverthrong.

 Mona  veils (wore) her feet   ~ OF course the government was nuts ~ she dandled between the being of something and nothingness and the boring  right of death the rights of death. the dead beat knoll of nights on the catatonic Galt she bypassing the heft and woof by the slumber. And the ring the well-knit The capricious candor of a lover without. A body hammering, a shitty metaphor, between her tents of sex and libidinous rumours around her aging reach. Not a quest but led to the absence desert and the remaining alones. 
  Along this flood her body without organs was not a place to stay.A contour and a shady Rembrandt charcoaled along the boat, and the dyke rising the swell of the beast.

This (old) body's born in summer . Arrives in September as. the fall light comes down sweeping and pulsing over and across the lanes and backs of balconies, over the rooftops and sheds. And the lonesome. and hurting body cries. its worn day carried back to source. and Of Course this is love and its old typography. and the miracle. not the wonder of cold heart cash. but her on her crutches, and the goose the limp footed her . with her fanned breasts and holy ass.

If anyone of which way this, she was better. Cared along a path heard by many chose by some. and then a few. handy to a handful of its concupiscent haste.

No  one knows better than Mona about the  coahahvered  3       ~.