Monday, November 15, 2010


the front of its stone head is continually
exploding into colors, and the head itself
seemingly rides a tsunami of exploding color
independent of the head, with the head randomly
rotating, leaping out in front of the color, or barking mute
commands of ferocious incendiary chromature
that get taken up
in that palanquin of swollen and chaotic miasma


if ever it had had eye sockets
the blind and radiant holes now gush
with exploding colors
and from time to time
they appear zoomorphic
but these gifts are those
of the universal projection
the force sustaining the head

the zonamewa tsunami
hesh mith zoss na irmo
naesh mi
mirnish zamo

its chin is a blinding flash
and explodes into pieces
and is rebuilt

green ram you treed
to play green reed your tree
to read it
they feed on blinding colors in the chinpod's
mobodollopine suspinder eko

eko din
gnit code oto
the front of its stone head
could be red pins fired out beyond
the speed of sound through orbs of green smoke

let's be exploding friends
let us be totempoles of radiation
or freakish waves corvingling jujolupi

if they use old chin bones of exploding blue sky
for your eyebrowsers
if clusters of dark disks become your eyes
if your mouth is a hiss of golden wreckages

into purple lamb's wool amoeba runes
which suckle exploding nipple heads
surfing on golems of weird ink-islanded milk
iridescent with howling britterfee

say our colors comingled toward the hish
bosch slooped up wild and hot
in odalesque egg beings

green lava in eggs freezes into weird masks
that become desks to smeary exploding penots


if your sockets swallow whole
the ice of its mirror tell

tell this mirror your

heaven as order
inform its hull
your school or timeless squirting pincer colored

hea von nutu
your head is an enormous exquisite stone

red pins fiercely wheen
where yehelo mibdist

the front of its 
continually exploding into 

call lore
cull lure

light alluring
la its touring

we root
you tower

you avoid all possibilities
to bend
where even moon
at surface even orgy

y grows


  1. The truth of Pogo. Gone.

    It is only through addition or multiplication that the exigete learns the 'meaning' of numbers...

  2. Pogo rulz OK. Your poem was good, my comment piffle. Walt Kelly was a genius whose depths the modern mind generally utterly ignores.


Irrony Observes The Earthing.