Monday, April 20, 2020

diogenes and his lantern of luminous hobos



hobos running here and there their marxbrothers motorlingo symbols peeling out the walls spinpulls 4 hobos and a hermit were bathing in a ditch one day when the house that jack built jumped in headfirst into the mud cracking its head on a rock later when asked the house said i have a great anxiety about growing up and finding a career i might enjoy right now i enjoy the sound of motorboats in the distance from connecticut i enjoy seeing clusters of hobos running along the canals moving their sand pegs between the stations of the cross railway masters a hobo on the cross came to me as mercury that group of hobos together was mercury al corso i'm headfirst in the mud drawing little pictures at the bakery i'm made of wiring money and there's a little cave where the girls from the frankenstein movies come pouring out brown skin and blonde hair the kind frankenstein likes moving in his indian canoe moving languidly in the sea of hobos and sidewalk symbols o i will go with you harpo simon magus shirley frankenstein temple hobos float up in a radial patterns from the ring road muddy ditch atlantis and make a mandala groucho marx your genes have been scattered in these hobo runners each with their own eyeballs of hot pink licorice chewing gum which swaddles the sweet and bony fingers of their prose and megaphony magephones i hear you oh simon magus your simeon cold brew moves muddy through the hobo stones your milky clouds obey me if i am alive today it is because of you simon magus fond railway orphan raised by good samaritans all of the hobos of this land are samaria bound in their chocolate chuckwagon hymen-chariots their money wires culling muddy mondoskulls from the underwear temples of frankenstein's heavy harpo hobo railway line motorlingo is headfirst but head is dead last and dying head is dumb and nail and good samamartrains have let the tough tracks guff weedy where the moon tufa is cloven and spattered with golden stink mud i see thee diogenes apollo hobo-lad you are my photon anxiety this is the temple which looks like a muddy ditch full of hobo philosophers mimicking a train of circus frankenstains



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