Wednesday, May 4, 2011


This galaxy is sometimes more enjoyable soundproof,
a miracle beaming broadly, with piano key teeth,
after rising from a puddle of mud – curtsying to buxom psychopharmacological ingredients in frilly panties: the mind's
silicon stylus would otherwise be less adjustable.
Useful otherwise only as a leech keyring, landing in your lap
and sucking on your dick
after fumbling with it in your getaway car.

Cardboard embedded with a transistor. The pizza circa 2053.
Now an asthmatic mound flickering with adorable Anime eyes:
TV bodily fluid accrued.
Pellets of clown fossil; albino crusts scattered across the floor of
an antidepressants factory after Robocop had passed through.
Bigfoot kissing in an '80s calisthenics video. 'Now respect my
embrace, bitch!' Resentment's acoustics:
polyvinyl sewn into the Victorian pelvic dashboard.

A microbial free lunch with roots in a large teeming subterranean metropolis,
as enticing to a corkscrew as that small dot marking the convergence of a
staring contest between a car salesman and a soda
vending machine. Predatory.

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