Sunday, March 16, 2014

Said Mr. Limits to Mrs. Growth, "Now we are butt stranglers..."


notice the relative proximity
of my pistol hole


to your beauty 
mark


hail hate-lure, sure, but I salute only
Dionysus so tender and green in its liknon
my silver world a diagram
julie andrews singing
on one knee
over fields of blue cotton


do you know the way to 
San Tropez?
I've been away for so long,
Janis Ian?


EL J - LOV?
if all you had to do was ask
the thinnest silver orgy might
surround only one hair
and one lash might stain
it could be interlinking silver brains
draped with silk
and balloon scratching
dj's


now Diogenes' body has grown so large
that all the other philosophers
live inside it


In Transylvania the bellhops
wore mustard greens
to keep the centipedes
out of their good hotel shoes


I have a bottle of Camp Pho-Phonique
with your face on it
I painted with stolen nail polish.
That's fine Justine, we're all going to be wearing metal beards
of hot robotic fleas trailing nylon data encryption filaments..


Diogenes! Take Dionysus into your body!
Take the body of the god as your own! 


Grape Ape, Baby.. You ever see that?
Now don't unplug me till I'm through..


These are all the Butt-Strangling records
for 1937..


William Blake's tidy bowl!
Wild and Domestic
are made one!
Feral Futility!


this is the classical notion
of metaphysical emanation


earth mother - sky father
I may have said this before
there's a green tongue squirming in the dell
and in a grey hood
and red slippers it knows
the way to san tropez


bails of discarded clothes to form cyclopian walls,
okay, but I can only imagine what it means,
and then play air drums
about it


cosmological semiosis
begins
with a phone call
at midnight


I'm tired of waiting for the aliens


i would like to build a poem today in here to day


these brown clouds
are laying down
for you


did you know you have a thin cylindrical pebble behind your ear?
He'd like a bowl of mashed cherries, whiskey, and Schubert's Winterreise
played with knee and armpit squeaks, and a wintergreen cream
for his nostrils.. 


look,
I can make it write little letters..
Do not be uncordial young Mercules,
the eye of anarchy is always upon you!


somedoy i guess chalk tapdancing
plates my alley
father crowley
i have telephones hanging off my dress everywhere
VE'VE'!
OLE'!


you're solid
i'm stripe


need any miniature pedal kits?


you'll notice
a tiny wandering frankenstein
in high-heels and fishnets
approaching the pharaonic sarcophagus
of Michaux
you also may notice
a clown and his carrot bride
bathing in my teacup
as well as
my golden bicycle
knuckle grille
and ice pick
I think that the case of Michaux
offers something exemplary about it for philosophy


can I stick my ant-pharm on it?
I don't want you to be 'merely eccentric'
but have some social relevance..