Wednesday, November 30, 2011


Posture of posterity posing pleasure poured proof.
Plastic petals plead placid plaques picking peppers.
Perforated perfumes prefer prefixes pitting pouts.
Paean for pain peeled purple perplexes patching
poignant pads putrid palace pale palimpsest.
Plungers plug a pannikin protruding peace.
Place the panpharmacon pushing pants.
Pieces of paralogism are pelasgic peaching proudly.
Pediments properly pinch the pedaneous people.
Person of Prague picks pimples pounding pins.
Your phatic provides pellets pulled upon profound pap-smears.
Phish is a phratry pertaining persons plucking productivity.

Untitled Title

It is closing time
at the open beach.
it should never really close.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Future of Death

there is this poor fly that is trapped between the glass and the screen of the window and it makes me sad that I see him/her struggle. The fly will end up dead and I'll add it to my bug collection I guess.

Bluish hue

Bluish hue and bristly green
sharp teeth bit me.
Switch off the microphone of
cholesterol and speed away the trees.
Trim deeply at the knees
scraping scrolls leading to treasury
slipping south with all of these,
can a master define everything?

Friday, November 11, 2011


Continuity of enjoying life
is when I can sit upon pillow
of money and know that it
protects me from mud.
The hugest house
all around
a landscape of riches
that is all for me.


My neighbors do not bring
me treats
I scavenge for carcasses of
dead animals
I develop so much hunger
for it is my life
to keep on eating any meat
is a tasty meat.


My mongrel saint
at boondocks gate
shed the ratty clothes
you feel so sheltered in
to come dance with me
bare to the bone
we dine and grind.


Tribute to my soul
all the following gold
wreath of flowers
above the bower
lifting my spirits
ever so high
I shall not ever think
of committing suicide.


The house fell onto
tallest tree so
the family can
reach the heavens
and I sit at the stump
with moss and leaves
roots grow inside of me.


I suddenly feel ruthless
I have no demise
Demystify monstrosity
par superiority
wax the wood

Tuesday, November 8, 2011


I had two hundred days to send you away.
The one I love gathered a phrase
from Euphrates.
The steamroller squeezed all emotion
out of me as if I were
about thousand times more brilliant
then any random shade of pink.
I sounded a horn
that sparkled the scorn
of breaking glass
a shrill laugh.
Hour passed noon,
two hours passed gloom,
and what will you finally
have to say to me?

Monday, November 7, 2011

Attributes Beat Beauty

I collide my side with a turn of the knob,
the door that opened up the floodgates
I floated to you on piece of wood,
metal debris sank because of me.
I am heavy hearted lover with more to give
but in reality a shot to flip.
Flowers donate respectively,
I actively abide to you.