Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Lame, They Move Disheveled Into the Light, Where Their Solemn Inbreeding Portends..

And then it went down
my boner, my ship, my pontifical
pontifex, ix, ichor, ist..

you get the gist.
gristle and gumbo,
whither and hiss,
all of it held aloft
with albino cobra soft
the networking solution
of gods.

is your worlding grotto
of word, for if your speach
was as meaculpapistoa as
the potential of molecularity

ie, if your lie-ing
was anywhere as sweet as wine
your untruth
anything but a blindness
masque-errating as a drunkeness
then perhaps

we might have plenty tender
for Babylon's newest tiered marvel of breathing green
but instead

black takes brown's purse
in the parking lot of the envelope factory

the human element is unnecessary
and over-produced
and ill-trained
and wastes its time in art
and lie-ing

because life is too hard
too easy

and anything that can be
said to be true
is more than true,
much more, and less than true,
much less.

Everything is hyper disposable,
and hyper-precious

words create these states
and that works on at least


The Buddha
is an oxygen molecule
and you must breathe him in
and transform (kill) him

If you see Ezra on the road,
KILL HIM! Because his metaphysics of


are occluding
my monstrous organs.