Monday, September 23, 2013

Tuned Housing Grille

*music by Chris Hanis

with its jaunty red and white speckled enamel cap
you cd barely see the pale blue flesh beneath
quivering w joy
and the deep blue
transparent side pipes must've died twenty years ago
wd ya send the whiskey to Room harpsichord camera
oddly whipping bava help yourself
this bed runs all the way to Kongisberg
they never finished the karst family
with a hook on either side,
the umbilical prince

you cd say Stacey folded chocolate Maya
in the great protein space of way.
'like heather from a joey's sack'
Stacy wd always say, her wonder moving through chocolate
and into late medical philosophy, disco,
phallic beasts of innocence and marriage
to the will of myth
and commerce.
a messenger of God's will
in lingerie.

You like Roebuck.
You will take Roebuck.
And your Girlskin father will bear the heavy horns,
now kiss my metal hand,
young Girlskin...

they move speed
in the heavy hula

they take speed
in black hula hurtles

black lincoln
takes bass
her crow well

odd awake thing
you do not roll
odd awake thing
we hang you squirming
in the mirror

periscope cries out to sod
let my pale face lantern the lace of beetles
which undulate under the fog
and growl you whole to hole
where the tongue laddered whale
lays cane to building well
well cane black
black cane immediate
take your twisting mouth remains
to doubt
and spread them
who suss sparks a bag
of gorgeous blue diamond ankles

no incidental cease to pepper
her spray
in the thin lion which course the latter
the missive's massive surceacle creds
the street whose chair
a changling
goes all bread
all full blue sitting sphere
come again
in my rotund window
sparkling anything
about the stone's whole curse possible found
its thickening licklings
do disturb curdling orange fountains
pheasant's purple wattles retract

deft sky you cannot embark to parrots
more skinny hearing
the eleven worlds broadpanel display
a ubutton cameo'd for ivory encapsulating the hefty ice
in armors and amores

lace ivory cup
for pink ice plug
their daughters get taller
their parrots retract
their ping pong is over
and the earth a sac

imagine the beatitude
of never flying again

there is always such music in your rectum
the brightest babel of cold black golems stoned

roses frame the eternal door
where the path of gold dust looms me on
if i were a green velvet caterpillar
and you my suede prosthetic shoe tiara platinum numbing bone

i'd taste your weevil in the sprocket
where the wicker spreads its warm
theatrical bathroom

there are carved wooden helmets
fitted especially
for these balloon head fictions

Race again to the form it takes.
Ruse the gain in the forlorm gape.
Blue grapes dither dinghy.

The sturdy Buddha knew me.
I knew where he kept his grumpy mother.
Sometimes we rowed among
the coward fish
and barking stones, we carried clubs
of fireflies.

Engflatable chimera arms must be delivered
to the aquatic lion weevil bachelors
my fat yellow gem
my fat blue gem
are mating
my bachelor butler
is a mating butler
my mansion

o laun
o naker
o drown ding

The clue is not violence itself
but the yellow mandarin tongue of knowing
knowing nothing
nothing all
what is it to violence
a popsicle
a gras?

i commence
the bachelor butler hair weevil
is with me
i commend thy yellow suede head couch
to the hugs
how bright the joey
how golden
ghoul heather smell toast erections

He called me a "Monster Potter"
Clay was flying I can tell you.
I could bake a whole room in Alaska!

Tips for wit.
Don't be a tongue,
be an RK..

Parnassus knows many fleeces always invisible 
the lavender mummy of syntaxis wills 
naked steps as offerings, moments 
as cryptic ritual asyl

In silence before the journal of space
I rendered time a mood
a colored quotient
I looked hard upon the shifting and boiling psa
it is not too early to caress flowers
where dusk has led a purple magnetic dust
into a scimitar dancing machine
my dead arm epaulets
gold kissing curdles
the mandrake

we baked you a pet
to begin with
now the carved and wooden smoke
has closed its mirror
to regret
there are hinges and pinions
if you dance between the loons

Property is not theft or murder.
It is echo.
Self is Echo.

I desired access to your properties.
Though I properly
have none of my own?
Wd Owl take frame and fold it?
Enter mongola with a clean heart,
a bright ear, a hearth-like back
full of eyes.

We gave Dionysos our last goddamned dollar.
Now look at us, forced back into the ring after all these years
of remaining mad.

My name is Goblem.

 have awoken trapped in dragon's blood

One is physical the other metaphysical but the riot mudra of merdre must earth the is as armor evermoreoveringravid

(midget duchamp vampire dog)

the ancient mandala of journalism


Egon Cyclops Nose Tie (Disney Mutiny)