Tuesday, October 27, 2015

The fictions blog series has a ..

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

A moose is not a goose!... (yr desire machine... dig it )

... dig it )

 it's not as the singular plural moves around the mongrel and the late arrivals hanging their hats on the top of any tongue arriving a  bidding tongue on the move...

 O goose and Moose .....

A thousand    years back ....  and the more recent cousin a  mere 400 years back...

An S is not a caboose!

 So your wakes is not wake uin singulles  guessing green gobeens.

In the cloud... (yr desire machine... dig it )

 Mona and the fictions can  live on a cloud (google's? blogger's?) so that readers-citizens   can read and  talk (to them)  and text  the characters  on any connected tablet  ))) O what joy! to speak to one's characters to know their names

& hear their voices ! and perhaps evenhaving relations with them! to ponder their secrets, their unconscious rainson des 'etres!  >>>>> so thus we 'll find a novel unheard of epistemology the one of outer space that's actual out there in the actual ever expanding universe

Friday, July 24, 2015

Mind a word


 Mind a  word says Mona thinking back to Joanah! the whale, the fire, and fortification wall. Surround  her she was incarnate to the buckling wall (forgetting a fish )of king and farding forward marching ... sowing word hoping along the sword call?

She's meckle proofed (and mickle  to her largesse) and turved with ahhence nouncements going on. And five hundred bucks out of the peak.

JIll recalling threshold and bold she's worked the skin or the,  no the top end of the body and its reaching out past hill and dale.

   what bog would walk this?

Ireland? it seven seas and traitorous accents? its brogue of long bonged bing!

What seem of great king nor queen at their hall Tara and

the lord's mother herself was shamed with the speaking of her her bootless buttless thigh and cry to heaven hard of hearing!

What ? then what and then we turn to its sweet poultered begin.

-------------  No repession where none begun. Bin! Din! 
                                                                                             renounce of pen

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

rethank a word


                                          Mona's gonna thank the words

    the cow in the brim 

 brindle candle of a breath to the tear

   her hand shaking quivering on the knock on the door

she's anylist to her paysense knowing most folks won't grope but dope. it's a given of redention. A new formationof recouping cages of.

Jill kicks her boot off a cape flung round her collar bone . a  precious prayer to say.


Sunday, June 21, 2015


               Mona's  got a jacket between her legs that says hey nonny-nonny this is most golly-jolly with a hey an ho an this life's most naughty for the taughty for the lossy the lousy?

 This was after reading Klo...  she went skiing 'down' the existential slope her ontological salad a missing wound to her salient summer.

   One  of the fifth and last? what summer brings? who knows the hammer of repetition charms out its difference to the god-sake of the becomings

what body seeks its snow? 

      ____ the sweat of her promise.
 the promise of her sweat & taste.


Thursday, June 11, 2015

A short history....


A short history of desire-jeans   .

A shorty history of desire machines: Mona's apparel is sudden white burst on something near to continguous. Groaning afflairs of the heart-piece! the light wind blows
into the neck of night a night as like other window buildings into eternity's white bust a breast near full to bursting
with its glory love a humdinger of a hummer into bearings east west north south all veering to her love. A body bearing this love worries no one.
Worries none.

Are your eyes burning then Sir? Aye indeed they is for lack of seeing her ,a  sight for sore eyes on my poor head! my poorer
heart, my crying secret genitals!
 A oneness smoothed between us.
these violins play stop and start. Parley.
there is no rain like this one. no coolness as fresh

  A period finds its place 'full  stop' comme on dit.
 Comme il faut.
                                        No one sees this ribbon bow rainbow

_                                      ______________________

Saturday, May 16, 2015

Jill's got an air

 Jill has a body was it? an air she's was not   blankblank    it's got to be her aphasia  an Apache coming on strong

  as  the ten down friendships die off and the general règlement of the life versus thanatos makes for a fine traitor.

That's how it goes sign to sign rated to rated rat to rat bird shooting down hitting the ground zero degree bullseye NOt So Funny eh?

   was Mona holding out for the true prime lending , the big kentucky on the gold mine?
   Next episode's to tell. this wines and dinners for the maximum effort reprieved.


Monday, April 27, 2015


Jill's on night shift fissured across the skyway of old heretic and younger than knight as the blink says all. Propped up by the letter G she leaning a  doorway with a mantle piece on the angle that's rearing to go quick to the west

farinaceous and fruity with vines. Each word mouth was created accidentally no matter that the ragers of 'art' got caught otherwise. Other was a god and her ache was fiacre placed charm. A method

we'll continue the apocalypse the other way

in a n old folks home as memory charmed off leaving a pendant in the sea . of the Deep Blue Green. and the clichés of book  and mermaid. over the word a history barren to its blank fun

  You're little cab habits are becoming a nuisance. Stage coach hacks running off down wander lane and Winander the beast of meandering river and flood. What pompous maze is this!? A poof and spoof for the history of barking dog and dirty king's honour plus or minus.

Wait Mona's got her backward glance aboard. She's  caught in the sun. Anything for a dizzy spell my love.

So where was I was saying then? a feather cap for every bullseye. A geese for a gong. Hold your horses! and hips toosome.

  Mona ploughed through the first book of Capitalism and Schizophrenia as if there was no tomorrow .
and no time to borrow . The caged beast thought!

  Back to the translation and she's made the fifth plateau. Memoir of an absteentee landlord and grieving begrieving 
             Mona's got her dress on backward  ripping on the tin shoulder of her hurt. Excluded again absconded the natural rigger of her part. Sail flapping on the down sail. It's no matter. She's got the catatonic  thump and not the categorical imperative! Imperator is not her style !

   A mile a minute reading Heidegger. You did that like.

       Fanny's got a  thief    .


Saturday, April 11, 2015

Gonna grab

____________ Mona's gonna grab the black moon & yank it from the sky!

 _________________________ Bim bang she's got truckin on her mind. She's bouncing 'round the halls . Of gog and givinity!

__________________________Hog yr gravity she says!


No one's ....

  No one's ever given up on you fictions the way you pay the ever sending size and the things that're missing or amusing . As the case might be  :  a  case of this that and the other thought winding down as it calls then  trail out Mona holding back her sheet for the the slip of a whip the blanket of night... .

             Jill stoppers up that cap knowing the water's brilliant. as the bright blue sea and its infinite cliché but at least breaking up from the first person's the beginning of liberty.

                          After all! it's how it began. to see what can See!

____________  Bapbap! Boomboom! beep! is that something like that?


Wednesday, March 18, 2015


Jill has a  crow but it's not dead. The sea is high as the wind clutter and the rail tussled up against the factotum of weights and the red plight of the scar   .... Jill's won her red as long as long as she remembers the thrust of freight
   and the tiller boring the straight sea ... there's no one here in  the tail of the barracuda thundering does it thunder she's asking
  but her heart beat  wondering at the awkward glance of the geese the queer walk of the gull over an ice piece-meal in the winter's almost ending .

           Something like that anyhow! colis!detabernacle!  Franny'd never wonder she'd moved it along like an old poor or something 
  like a ringbaily simile circus
   Franny wouldn't worry . She'd buck it along like any two cent novel.

    Wouldn't' she