Monday, April 22, 2013

The Shipwreck Desnos: MILK IT!

No matter how you bullied or cajoled him, Crémieux refused to be hurried.

His behavior was most eccentric. Sometimes he was to be seen striding along the boulevards carrying an enormous kitchen knife. This was a sure sign that he had been invited out for dinner.
He was unable to believe that any other knife would cut.
Cut word lines, Offenbache.

Both nakred and beautifune the 2 followed the Queruloust gaoler w his AK
while the high pitched scree was ejected along a random soft artifice of living eyes
which looked for all the world like a curtain of egg white regularly enboldened
by saucers of dark blue stone.

Oh Penelopia..

John Styx returns to Cupid's Summer Hearth of Coolness.

Agni and Bobo, The Winter Years.

Fredenborg's charms lay in its easy lifestyle, tiger skins
hovering before alabaster walls, enormous mandorla windows to
pivot on brushed aluminous pinions, duels in paper pinafores.

I have found Albumin in your room, Orlando..
"I hear voices, but I also know my lines here.."

When I was still a prince in Arcadia..

Janitor: The Gas pipe in the street has just burst!

Gustave Dore'.

And now a message from the Ministry of the Interior:

The sentence has no power.

An image at last!

Cynical irony will 
replace all thought 
with collapsible 
conduitry. Tree, 
if not sentence 
without image.

Every day my eyes ride just about the surface of the green canal,
and my languor knows no bounds.
Nose no bounce.
No snow boughs. 

Togather, Deleuze and Guattari, were quite a formidable Psyclopfs,
but alone, the poppy throne, began its stick crutch beon for knotty Machiavelar.
Bicycle UBU beauclay.

Billboard chart in Time.

The Grey Imminence of its golden fakery.
Butter, then bugs.

The first tongue is the love of the plain letters.
The first tongue is the love of plain letters.

Its terminal dénouement resembled a détournement,
but the looping feudal chain of events
could never be discerned absolutely, as the
architect's meander rotated out of vision's curse
by which the course of things could remain

I am Lex Apple, Contumacioniste!
(but notice the borish camouflage, it's nice!)

50 thousand miracles per second.

Gas light hotel.

The old man, the blind, in the false blue phone.

The Ruse of Orthography is th-e Music of the Divine:
Let All our Ordovisians be one...

Clambering up the milk can columns
to snap at the ankled capital common to all Ullos,
the bovine monkey spider
damself a selbstain hatch, and glos gloans glancet.

Forward to the thing all shoulder,
the bronze amoeba
now up interp
the samurai of zero felt
with its amber carbon scriptong.

My Hobby is Death in Venice.

Peek Viewing Hours.

Glass is the ghost fruit
of the desert.

Now I understand Ecological Commerce.

The "Babylonian Splendor" Isn't what it used to be.

That's your story.

fleet flint and bright
but the next station
wills the fracture
look mother at narrative
will you fool do or be
were-all (olver

Richard Dawson and Marjorie Perloff in a secret ceremony for the blind,
and the hyperviscidose.

I am a tall and ornamental barbarian
outside the the long and condom like cave.

Bigger than hair: ACCIDENT.


The Truth about Diogenes of Sinope.

The Story of how Alice in Wonderful
became the Pope of a tired and idiotic world.
Imagination: "Milk it."

Evolution itself, ironic, if aimless.

I'm sorry, but I never read the same word twyce;

How can I agree to diagree? Every concept is a robin's egg.

Somutemany: It was delivered inside a puppy's ear.
I can still trace the delicate flange of its lemonade cornucopia.
The iron hovercraft is a movable fountain
with bonde-lit asp fore-pilot.