Saturday, September 18, 2010

Angio-Rogolin For Tabbed Byzantine Browser Words



to cults
to Saint Cul

whom I hope your shavers
are

bleak rhinos
basking
for what is left
your boots say eros and logos
but mine say egos and loros:

Je glisse mon temps
avec les cheveux de gel
se verrouille où les bateaux
rouillés pénétrer dans
la bouche verte de son
esclave sautant triste hommage
à matin le laiton poli miroir
sa solitude orange

to go in ivory
to go in ivory

its black hand
up the snouth

no more glass on my temporary
gel horses (elephant gardens)
and no more saucers flying out
of the supposed subjection to

green cats [bugdrugscommungulate]1-gitan
green milk [bugdrugscommungulate]2-gossipel

their external head elevators
have feeler mouths
for thy

enrogued shrines whose path to hover
is giddy in cubed pink smoke
let sprawling lawn furniture
encurb

these patios bleed together
Monet treasure

Davy Jones
as ineluctable
miniver

funes and lettuce
lay entering the randomly tossed bowls
now laid on as city to a
saralasinwerfer

No comments:

Post a Comment

Irrony Observes The Earthing.