Saturday, September 28, 2013

Some One in my Pant's Intestines

It is another linguistic ritual invoking and conflating the unholy alliances of loquaciousness and grandiloquence, ambiguity and obscurity, which manifests in a monolithic orgy of self-indulgent writing that is so narcissisticly perverse, it would make both Sodom and Gomorrah blush.

The Cause-itron of Holistic Fauna

Circumventing the dysphasia is but a usual
task of the platinum elite club.
They house storks and cranes in the wading pool,
liquefy cosmic space rock dust into their wine,
jam to the alien music from the Tetrahedron Quadrangle Quadrant,
and sleep on the backs of lions.

Eat eat deep macaroni and jam.

Eat eat deep macaroni and jam.
My muscle spouse is on the trail with flam.
Creep in tall grass, shroom the forecast
looks good in little town blue
all cozy in goo
from brain leaking
gods vacationing up to Neptune.
Eat eat deep macaroni and jam.

Dear Caligula

Condensed milk, flipside coinage
onto the addendum itself.
Commentators are consecrators
all for the belief that human being
is all that belongs on this rock.
Tribal percussion is an enthusiast of
Santa-hood and the merriment of cemetery cornerstones.
The higher power is at its lowest
endeavor just like jelly on a spoon.
Are you a relator?
Do you belong in a sarcophagus?
Was the bog once your home?

Terrible Break

It is now Autumn and I have halted on my book project yet again.
I will just write more poems.