Sunday, November 27, 2011


Certain cosmetic disorders that we have
and that we share with other things are
beneficial to my partner and I.

Our convex intelligence fits well into any warped ebook.

Tetris blocks and the fibers poking from
their aging graffiti – the sun's surface's myriad colors and sounds
and smells rot beautifully on such streaked, blurry gravity.

I cut my nails; the damage was extensive.
Neon fingernail clippings and the sounds of disembowelment
and decapitation that tended their removal – i.e. sensory material
my synesthesia typically disassembles in poop.

We have evolved certain bodily functions useful to meth addicts
as biomechanical gadgets. 
Crayons unearthed in obesity; obesity with augmented suction cups.
Dancing dwarfs – and the exhibition of other curiosities – produced
inside the body.

A new form of newspaper that gives everybody else asthma.

My partner stood facing our bedroom wall for three hours
and got a bicycle via osmosis.
To others this would be a despicable feeling.

She doesn't want me to have some of her fingernail clippings.
Fingernail clippings should close into the body.

Unlike ephemera that spring open, that most prevent
dinosaurs from relaxing – cretaceous and topless – and sometimes
lead to ejaculation.

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