Saturday, March 09, 2013

haze of capitlalism


  In the haze . the haze of capitalism was the reunityfictation of the self.


theroem one and two one and one making  fi ve to go. it seams Jill's Mona.


'On a  (Ona Oona) li(gh)ter note  who cares about bread , butter, melody and mud? except at a given time, a  moment of sanding pop culture's all we got    ~


Tuesday, March 05, 2013

Lumping it all twogather


Lumpenspace princess  thought it's patriaRchy. it aint. not that sample. it's the commintern dog, the soviet pilaster poof. professeror's of emeritus and the moonlight scarf of.

Jill humdeho.
Mona  athankful geese
and the other stucking her thimble in the plate  close to the tardy duality of being. if they had a sinthomme they got it over! bullshit toi rang her hanky using oil and fragrance of the capital gains tax. Not a spoof for this knight but her  (c)ock riding her cock(robin) ride.


Monday, March 04, 2013

A poetry eater

  JIll's a poetry eater a twinsome twotime poetry eater. An eater of groove and pelt/ around the wrong way of a symbol

& the night was good. She bore a foot solider long and the Queen sat two in the barrel of the   thing beside the place over the hole , the sewer where the     guy was ranting wave, and the run bounce car moved a common ground above

and Jill heard the democratic morsel an eternal parcel was it Mona suggested sense falling at her feet laughing at the fool god thinking he was the only one begotten before the others made and unmade eternity before heaving heaven.

Sunday, March 03, 2013

in cave

---- Now Mona's met Jack the back not the hegel the bagel and  the Comminist Princess  ~ but they wont let her work the dioceces dildo  corny stories abound false memories of the sentimentalizing machine repacking you back baked goods   
they were doing it  
   they were 
       i n  the cave
            in  the cave with the water splashing all around they were doin it doggystyle a centuaur horse
on the run but now shes a  hard ass hooker for the territory king capital

suckered her deaths inta image image now she fucks with  a god capital ruins

shes godzilla not giraffe of rain an' joy
  O come get out of there get outta here with yer copping out corpse corporate   running  panhandle paranoia

--------------------- Now does Jill see MissHegel's handy dialiectic? no matter her hair's parted down the middle its game  time at the 7pm getup . Her mirror's a box of selves.

   Now Mona's not a jackboot, but it'd be better if Jacky came to see her. Out of her veils of mourning and the capitalist float signifying . Out of the capitalist veil.

  Dont steal these words.