There they tumble, like
bingo numbers in a crystal
skull, waiting for the rubber
tongue, camping the mother-
fucker until it comes, waiting
for the treasure drop,
Oh Nectar!
(It's vaguely natural, the rumors about you..)
In olden times, when things meant more,
when success looked more ominous, or
if the dwarf in your village hadn't rubbed
its foul body among the potatoes, then.
Improper Englishes, and
Bad Painting.
How hard to tell why this wide tree, why
YY XX oh! this
single lake in Africa has such a rich history,
it's fine to notice how unjust the Earth really is,
but why not just starve it of denizens?
What's this horseshit?
"Keep silent unless what you are going to say is more important than silence".
Bah. Blather on in any fashion, for all
all,
is silence.
"if the dwarf in your village hadn't rubbed
ReplyDeleteits foul body among the potatoes"
awesome. My villages are full of dwarves; I serve them.
Always tricky to judge a silence. Easy to judge a mouthy fool. Where is my lipstick!
thanks - funkin cranky stuff, and nicely mean.
"Slay - or stay thy hand. Seem to slay. No matter - for these men are slain by me already". Somebody, somewhere, might have said.
Onward ever outward, attenuating and dancing on the increasingly crispy rim of things - fill it to the rim with grim brine, the better to attract final frozen cows, nein?
Thanks again, Jellybean.
just imagined that 333 like a bleary replicating cartoon fist slamming down while the drinker laughs
ReplyDeletethen i saw a stag antler handled
beer mug!
Antlerstein!
ReplyDelete