Thursday, October 22, 2009
King of the Bungaloos
for G. Sullivan.
Hey Dum Dums, Wake up!
The Almighty King of the Bungaloos is about to speak!
Word. Word. Hibby. Hibby.
Did you get that Dum Dums? He said,
"Word, Word, Hibby, Hibby!"
That means, "The word is heavy, don't F*$K it up!"
Ain't that right, Bucket?
Stocky, Gazoo, Now wrap it up like a bundle a styx,
I gotsta boogi-amo, up onto a higher level..
Hibby.
Word.
How about a poem?
Sure.
Here's:
Weird Goddess (or God) of Fog Cubes.
(Just Chillin' Especially..)
fog birds swim in the hiss
bus manta diagrammatic wire
installation
children flow
through the street
elegant spatial distribution
of heads like self-authoring
dew-drops
the fog is beautiful,
micro-colloidal, planck-constant,
creamy, atmost spheric.
neo-classical fog temples
come to mind
gorgeous nudes
lifting fog cubes
not to gods
but just playing
with fog cubes
in those
ridiculously beautiful old buildings
that look like porcelain pan-pipes
teach gentleness
with a loud mouth
teach intelligence
without lies
or tethers
or opacities
if you are here
you are in the cult
and should be paid
let's get everybody together
get naked
and play the fog cube
and by naked
I just mean
"whatever makes ya happy"
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Irrony Observes The Earthing.