Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Knowledge Is Peril, Indifference, Mud's Way.

is that okay
final pedicel
vehicle disturbance ruminates to
they give instructions for those abused
in bed
magnetic green metallic spools begin
to show silverware through the inbred
candelabra hives
lovely salutations
of secretions (solemn modularity engulfs its own)
bent on world destruction
lambswool jumpsuit
fuzzy slippers
ladders up into sweet cedar sleeping holes
rapid transit
among the blind zombi dead
we kiss within earshot
of the leather meat fetish
which smiles
at a misshapen old phallus
of living stone

Bonk
Tong
Moi

yellow rays come out from its Socratic hand
journalism consists of an economy
of golden acorns
the mudmen continually steal and replace
from one another
because they are prideful
and boastful monsters
but often with eyelashes
like a young deer

Brian Eno scores Lupercal
set in a gyno-utopian carnical athlete's
world of sovereign and futurist foot petting

headlamp
fear

dingy
floppy marks
go down to meet the governor
in its cyclostatic wheel assemblies

amorphous hovering balloon cities
randomly reroute pneumatic traffic hoses

we sleep nude
in airy pouches
above the Himalayan

Mehru churning milk
of reconfigurables
and the sea
yokes
and the sea yokes
what we are
before we even can say

 

  

1 comment:

  1. Athlete's foot and immortality, worn to a nub by millennium's end. Loved the little tents sleeping soundly and full of risk in the wind above the drop; loved the poem, in fact. Thanks for it.

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.