My Boring Aristocratic Meanders, Closed Variables

As if its moose nose were cumming
bolts of schissom

jade schissom is the emperor's
markury

look at this potlatch folding baord-game assembly,
if you remove the tripod carefully, flexing the legs
from the holes atop the crucible, you'll see its

muse notes
haplear

Why I take you this route
is entirely your business.

shapeless windshield
routeless vestige of the greater vehicle

filter encased in filter
philtre a good simple segma

belly half transparent
theatre half empty

we hold our robot opera fission
to the edge of the temple
where the throbbing vane ponticiple

sups such single secular looseny

we get out into the ball
to rub our faces
onto the exposed tits
of the wilder countenancings