Wednesday, April 4, 2012

PANCAKE SOUND SPORES

imagination in part terrestrial,
dirty, clinging to but
released bit by bit
along with the grainy hum
of the sonic
pancake

ill of
burial in its dust's
circulatory skin

dizzying fingerprint
dials its
algorithm

lacrosse fate:
apparent
on your tombstone

I'm so relaxed right now
I think I'm -

it's so complete I
think I'm –

two large demon-possessed buttocks wrestling a small camping chair!

over phone sex,
tracking the passage of the old tranny's heavy cold
across a desert-like gap in our conversation

DIED AND WEPT WHEN I RECEIVED THE BILL

worth the regal
vocabulary of what virus,
snot-spoken crying?

approaching a tornado,
approaching a bridge,
approaching a young girl,
approaching a cow,
approaching an electric fence,
[climbing through the electric fence]
approaching a cliff,
approaching a lot of other shit,
enjoying suicide's hot slick maneuverability...

employing a friendly old oven mitt
as an alternative
to narcissism – you don't
exist

not wearing it
waving to someone
you cease to exist!

not wearing it
groping someone
you cease to exist!

now taxidermied so slowly,
dying, hurtful,
dying inside, a taxidermied abortion

coming out only
to punch a mime, a
cliff, an electric fence,
a young girl, a cow,
a Burger King sign,
a Burger King burger,

with a hand that deposits
sound and dust
on everything it punches

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