Saturday, May 21, 2011


Tiny corner of the eye: where a white chair has been positioned
for a less yolky Netflix Far be it from me to tell you to
completely phase out perception But as the galaxy's body cavities
have curtains flapping in front of them, so our minds like privacy
And our guts … you always made me wish my stomach could be full
of lost and found objects My posture is defined by stolen throw-up,
like I don't even want my stomach filled with my OWN throw-up
Footloose Zen gelatin putting on Saturn's gadget: nobody cares
about the accordion biscuits of Facebook chat Taking a stroll with
Nazi crotch overlay I resist the urge to become plaque on the steps
like a hotel sniffing its own veggie Thought to be extinct, the
detour frying garlic sodomy - a very different kind of Jaws of Life
rendered in Doomsday apple-core Paralysis stimulates the same
region of the brain How it's like so visible, Kenobi – how jealous
you are – over not starring in the same commercial as the
Unabomber for amputee projectiles Yeah, duffel bag! Own up to
hibernating in your own systems and mysteriously going
missing in a gallbladder transplant Bleach in the
emergency room clicking growling, punctured, then
reconstructed as salmonella cum It lies there funny, she thinks
Thinking it's funny, but I was wearing NOTHING on my first date,
the time of this occurrence marked on the great almanac
with a little icon of a tree putting out for a telephone wire
The mall's different growls, clicks, and ruptures, and crunches,
and crunches, and crunches, are now mutually beneficial bosons
in whom the deaf examine blood intervals and religious contrast

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