castanets! castanets!

In the red origin

of this hotel

thoughts rise like white pillows

thoughts rise like green pillows

and people slide like abacus beads

with neon entering their mouth

and exiting

their head-spinning apropunctifease

betting for sacred glamour

the hairball skulls

corralled their themes

to moue a bete noire

for a boundary of fetish heads

goldfish your masks

my double coined cock sticks

water drips

right in your bed

Yes, it's the second coming, it's aliens for sure, but I was the only blind man taken aboard at all,

and all the other passengers seem to be anorgasmic women

tortured by african islamic cults.. What? They've landed in Poughkeepsie and are herding little boys by riding giant Pekingese. Well, don't you worry. Oh no, it's great Marlene, after an incredible spa, you watch films during the trip. The first film was some kind of run-on filmic sentence which started out like À rebours but then turned into Là-bas... 

Hyperbole! de ma mémoire

Triomphalement ne sais-tu

Te lever, aujourd'hui grimoire

Dans un livre de fer vêtu...

We feel that they may be travelling to this exquisite and heavy iron chalet which mollies its drolleries in the languid goop of Saturn's dung rings.

The Alien punctum is at hand.

One small dot of infinite asymmetry

will put your ass

right back in a tree.

lovers gobbling baby monkeys

at a feast of floral letters.

i cook

i cuckoo

but still the mink keys fangle

the scrubbed coo silk cup pillow

'thoughts rising like pillows'

that was glamorous theme

of our oaken cousins

wu wei

we wuz

fuzzy wuzzy

was never supposed to become

a piano of monkey ladders.

confabulum is boundless confection

affection is full

and the gyres approach them

what a cryptic lover needs is readers

that will knot cock up the tripod

for if the whole world is a tripod

in the cock up and crash

i found solace alone

in my wandering nymphaeum

i will live as a turkey

from the renaissance

to the age of reason

I am Thomas Hardy

and Matthew Barney

made into a vagina din tatar

Crimea!

Don't forget my frightening old mask!

At the bottom of the fountain, mice use the tiny coins like ice skates

to rejoin their prostitutes

after the long war

with the "poisonous French novel"

that controlled all my paintings.

Endosymbiosis

is the poetry of Baron Von Richthofen?

These Eons

of Sopp Whipth Camel..

I say old rat, caught in a bit of a batt,

pillows rising to heaven

seems to have touched off a grey alien goo event

in my hotel jim neighbor's hood.

Could you sparsely glamour a protectorite

and send it along the pike.

I did not import these giant Pekingese to Poughkeepsie, nor did I sell them to the decadent grey merchants which always pay my bail.

Dorian Grey,

you were such a lovely boy,

standing naked above me

in your anubis mask,

urinating on my forehead,

But what have you become?

Father,

I brought the aliens here.

I am Napoleon Anubis,

bringing Spa at least

to victims of anorgasmia.

How can they defend me.

I am Joris Karl.

I am pillow rising to heaven.

joris

is the new black.

now the invisible man

as a clunky robot version

of marlon brando's wild one

would mount his favorite salamander skeleton

and descend again into the alchemical fire

to retrieve its burden

Fuck Giacometti..

We've been wandering out here for Hours.

Let's go back to the Dorian's spa..

Lady, Orpheus was not a huge "Christmas Ogre" tying children to balloons..

pillows rising to heaven?

Orpheus went straight to hell,

and there laid jams.

do you think I'm still full of peanut butter?

I see a crowded street,

and all the people

are wearing buckskins.

shoe?

Is that you

shoe?

How'd ya like to kill everything,

and then pretend ya didnt?

The glamour of gambling

will take your hair skulls far

my bumbling boundaries.

I remember Marcel once told me,

The gyre will make an inverted child of ice,

an ice cone rising to heaven...

I'll be the aliens this time,

and you can be all the anorgasmic women,

but we still have to get to Dorian's on time

to watch the poker tournament..

there's a hole in the book

where I can see the theater

has failed before the open window.

punctuation

is severed legs.

would you like to visit us in our dreams?

Did you buy us a mini-vacuum?!

in the great castle of my face lantern

smooth seals hover upright like flames

and cold golden eyeballs roll about

like prisoners

lolling their drumbeat days

rabbits on the tundra

signal through transparent leaves

yes, I'm watching it too.

Tom Sawyer's Horns of Consecration

painted by a picket fence

her pregnant again

with Huckleberry Finnegan

the final old ancient black dodger.

he's one smooth booger

trimming paint brush hair

with scissors.

the hunchbacks's telephone

is called big-head-nude

seated on hand-carved tree stump.

would you like something from

Stuckey's next door, little boy Anubis,

we're all niced tea.

each fork

of his tongue

get its own

owl slipper