Thursday, October 22, 2009

King of the Bungaloos



for G. Sullivan.

Hey Dum Dums, Wake up!

The Almighty King of the Bungaloos is about to speak!

Word. Word. Hibby. Hibby.

Did you get that Dum Dums? He said,

"Word, Word, Hibby, Hibby!"

That means, "The word is heavy, don't F*$K it up!"
Ain't that right, Bucket?

Stocky, Gazoo, Now wrap it up like a bundle a styx,
I gotsta boogi-amo, up onto a higher level..

Hibby.

Word.

How about a poem?
Sure.

Here's:

Weird Goddess (or God) of Fog Cubes.
(Just Chillin' Especially..)


fog birds swim in the hiss
bus manta diagrammatic wire
installation

children flow
through the street

elegant spatial distribution
of heads like self-authoring
dew-drops

the fog is beautiful,
micro-colloidal, planck-constant,
creamy, atmost spheric.

neo-classical fog temples
come to mind

gorgeous nudes
lifting fog cubes

not to gods
but just playing
with fog cubes
in those

ridiculously beautiful old buildings
that look like porcelain pan-pipes

teach gentleness
with a loud mouth

teach intelligence
without lies
or tethers
or opacities

if you are here
you are in the cult
and should be paid

let's get everybody together

get naked
and play the fog cube

and by naked
I just mean

"whatever makes ya happy"

No comments:

Post a Comment

Irrony Observes The Earthing.