Thursday, June 3, 2010

Monkey Pizzle Trees Are Imported. They Used to Be Sacred.

lacking pecker, the
dog sombrero takes to
judging

you'd see a scorch, see,
like as if a goddamned
gray corpse came rocketing
down like a meteor
a big human meteor corpse
made of old tires
and it'd hit Interstate 35
Eastbound
with its god damn chin
and leave a helluva mark

the gulf shrimp

last of 'em for awhile
some old black feller
was dancin' in the alley
i imagine

it's oil
oil is human bodies

atlantis more or less
that's a pop star too
secret code

you can see the Kanjete
if'n you squint
like on greenies

its a big
triangular yellow pi

opionion's journeylism
bad shit paper pontifex

dung beetles
for holy egyptians
i've said all that
it's all in the code

dumb bastards
can't even look at yourselves
anymore

wretched and beautiful
mixed up good

just start climbin'
then forget it

put on a goddamned dress
and watch

as the amorphous

Artemis titty zeppelin amoebas
come perform

selective electronic nono's

Like that Italian con-poser feller
with all his "good intentions"

hell, you can say or do anything
and say you had good intentions

but shit, blood and paint
all end up

color
optic
applications

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.