Friday, June 18, 2010

Song Prose Nausea

undso the inksam interjaculatron, its cascadia ever adullamite,
its feffy troulades, its bright dis-ease a sudden squall that smites
a large dinner party mute, or into admiration, strange instruments
brought by strangers for reasons unknown

what is tied around their throats?
what is that floppy thing that tingles
in the mote?

O crisp and crystalline wavers, those
rippled pages of glass that are brought out
and through which hovering beer amoebas
may be seen, as on the pages of a magazine,
headless minah cats proffer sugar
to a zither.

June rhymes with Boon.
A building to resemble a bifurcat-
ing spinal column, spy gnarl,
panopticon opts for pan's icon,
the goat legged grapheme
now mute, blistered
with evening wells

those illuminated night time glasses they all wear
to the ball

transparent eye horns
pulled out like the taffy tits
of the goddess of sounds,

her delicate neck
she takes us through
sacred broken glass
and into the liquid navel
of her gasp

what, its what
it laid interred

a lint turd
to recompense
the heaviest bell
in the world

1 comment:

  1. good trade.

    btw, got that doodle up, as per your suggestion.


Irrony Observes The Earthing.