Tuesday, April 3, 2012

astringo grintosa ristagnò transigo trasogni

Growing old isn't funny
And neither growing young
But human shaped balloons
Are filled with helium and attached
To the growing framework
Of its incandescent morphology

Cascade of protoprongs
To an orbital selector plane
The reiterant irritant taunted
By the irate agate of its agon's
Nuggetry, and narrative's spin off
From Romania, if ulm or positronic
Delirium, strata by word collapse
To domain, the ard-chioneys


Complain complaints
And be ill (full-bodied we are not that abode above joy
In others (lark burst upon the sectus sub-sample
Towards a crumpled foil again
Turning at each satellite
The famoalaka where the signal
Enters the penetrant's acceleration
Growing old in the comic
Antic ages
The yellow leaves of salamanders
Quiet heaving and transparent purple
Are they descended?

The paraclete's embargo,
The liver golem's sea snail
Orange pearl
If washed smooth, mottle,
If motley, alone
With the blisters,
The dry sandy cast
Of slavers and their
Brutalized cargo

Luxury calls a helper
Toward its beastly Bethlehem
All gold the traitor
Beyond the rainbow of compliance
A hand out
A gift to a bothering and nervous feature
Of an unfitted portion of land
Its keening the shoe, and we
Its domestic gas
Coercible in form
The crucible of touch
Ripe snares ruminate
In our verdant fates
The dyag countenance of the fairest star
A mold, what steep sharp cathodes
Test our final image all
Lavish exaggeration
It cannot compare itself wholly
Upon the vision

Marsyas with witness
To its skin (all youth as music stripped
to Light as unreason (fulfillment)
An absolute rationality
And what is born to compel
Is always ready for rescue..