Mining for Cold
Early rounds with runaways — my naked eye pie — never bore crown, always the illegitimate sister. Forgot about that. It was about escaping the box.
Rocks in box — Used to dream about children in boxes being forced into fucking for dads obscene treasure. Around about age 7 or 8.
Mmmmm air edge. This lovingly worried brush. Lurking in sight of darkness, listening. Wandering the slopes of prodigy.
Is it safe?
No, of course not. Is it harmless. No probably not. What god depends on. Hunger beauty and death. Elegance? Roofs spoons strangers.
A place where there is no place. For?
Curly Hair, Jokes, the Insecure Fetch. Arrogance. Sleep. Half dreams.
Blank blank blank. Starts with a blank.
Sweetness is emptiness? The result is disappearance. Blue wait nights.
Curious that usage. Mmmm air edge. How rent boy thing and debtor scatter and payment. Lose track. Blows apart the kidneys. Everywhere.
Sunday in french stall selling table cloth and charms. A quantity for cakes. Opens floor with a death trap undress the egg the worry braid yellow and pious with fear. Flo blows it out the rear.
Rhymes takes over and pushes back.
Can’t see outside where am not. So it tumbles into the onion and waits. I dont know.
Put these floors in between. Hey you eighth house it.
Afternoon undress cue da death trap egg. Told him other rows worry about this braid. One will do dame gru great i only.
Nodded at the request.
It was a kindness looking over heart in a dear grave. And that carries. Can see beyond the robbery.
As the bad evening, pious fear of the evening. Something about an appointment. Get dense with flo blo.
Dont see colleagues as landlords. Dont even think about acquiring land. Have no land. Or marriage. Never think about any of that with “the girls.” Odd.
Remember as teenager girls started going on about it. I looked at them blank. And examined colors in sky for escape. Kate and fate says dada stuff that waivers from its terror. Fathers who are terrified of their daughters.
So as a daughter. Yellow pad screamed thunder. But bow de lair is shocked by it.
Talk is always about murder and ways to kill parasite off.
Not the murderer says Agnes. The burglar. There is no murderer. Except everywhere.
Pour core into ragey balm balm find out what praying preying are saying? They release the tomb from its holy gloom as smelly air of for in bloom. There is a they. Others do exist. Despite year of aquarium.
Earliest fascinations still bite me. Prisoner stuff. Why egg begs. For straight line magic. Steals it if can. Inter act sounds death hunter listened market place tidy good wind the picture book wraps around neck snakes and stumbles. The Moody. Pollutey flutey.
Rheum cavorts with disappearance? this isnt invisible. Disappearance before was mining went cold. Its landlord wouldnt move too. So went on hold. And blew gaskets of milk and honey. This became its forlorn rim pressionistic. Caught by the “fig.”
Pick flick wick tick the rhyme is cow and plow for me now. I like that. Thank you for the sweep. And for badges. Ewe thin asia. Thats darling. I mean Genets darling. Mixes genders. Strange ruthlessness rains cutters the fasces and I adore it without losing candor? Simple crimes are plenary feast of oblivion. Set up again and then the madness announces itself. Again oh how I hate that.
But its the cutter. Cutter is one of the greek goddesess that infested with Alice and chalice and get out of the palace. Hmm. Later started decorating it. Fly.
Its all walk there. And swims out here. I wanted him out more than me in. But when craziness hit immediately started writing BIG B. Knew I was whipped and needed a “blessing.” He tried and the tin took over me again. Tin stole every acquaintance. In writing. Like a fish hook. Brought it gin a gain.
But a belief in otherness always skips back in. With the outer gallery. Where I am no place for.
And Joyce starts giggling. Innie spin tin fin STOP.
Studied multiples of relations. Sparrows, moodies clock days. Barbarics spies the greek. God depended on me to be strong.
But pie kept on exploding with ding dongs my head was terror of thirst. I couldnt stop the bursts of joy/antijoy. It was so fucking frightening. And they took over one after another the whole thing split into this that then the tho thuds of dynamite hitting Sartres wall of bricks.
And yet wildly distracting ghoulish even amusing. I saw went looking for ghosts of serial mystery yes masturbation is a swamp. Crackled with disturbance and frames that missed it, just got lost in swamp of terror. Whose beauty on some corrupt curious level began to scavenger for love.
This is scavanger. The raven flies here.
The body screams to be relieved of its thirds. Pheonix and raven chance dance the picture enters the flame. Bit brings ease to. Being used to having the flu.
The last to come out of the rain
Unjustice. No naughty rama. Its “outside” scope. Part of falling in love with. Is that ventures outside my scope. In a way that “knocks me up” and terrorizes me. Thats love.
What is the tidy market? Is this writing despite all the marmalade tidy. Or is tidy about peaches? and violet. and buddah foodies.
Death traps are also referred to as being childish afternoon plot “in between.”
High up the gang plank with Nash’s “hall pass.” Looping the gymnasium. Strange penchant for disaster. Weighs the art of grief.
Its a chimney sweep, part of the incendiary. Penchant for snorkling with a box of “raison d’etre” in coal of smoke. Meet me below the clock.
Eternal call for all co hall.
Valley limits plead cough cook louder. Its a pulley. Rains whistles growls, even when asleep. Asleep is daring curious gym where water rains in. Property is not friendship. Friendship here is ignorant. There is ignorance not friendship.
Courage lapses fractures suddenly, cuts in with madness, sheers one of the presenters. Its systemic, a brutal “pop out.” Call it what you will its brutality is indefensible.
Girls say it is about falling in love.
Try endlessly to improve. And have months where do.
But no less strike powder flowing into slides. Colors take on meaning. Of life and death? No? — that of individual effort. Where signs share the intercession of meaning. Colors become a reference to their property. A way to divine define consign align as inheritance properties — figures of speech.
Suffering is always unexpected. But Instrumental. Often called fanatical. And revolutionary. Occurs as maneuvers, beaten, feared, unfolding, ignorant, herd like. A breadth of death air, skillful are often reckless? At times.
When furthers the forbidden. Winds through as if embracing torture. Is in some ways what gives it its strength. Symbols jet, prance with fire, dazzling — turns consent into a parade of flashy unexpected beggars, a massacre of party favors to bereave in.
Its immorality piques theater?
Guns bonnet, leather rushes in, marshals sound, something grows impatient, miserable.
Are thoughts alone immoral? Is sharing thoughts — immoral? Are glowing envelopes immoral? Sound of snow? Everything nothing bright and miserable.
Negation melts the hairless, bridges heartbroken, absorbs shock.
And hideousness turns theatre into rocks. Triggers dizziness that this bad babble in nightmare consumes in its abundance. Executors deliver victory. Unspeakable. Charge for mystical mud pie? Miners’ parrots ought be burned, alive?
Eye feed acres, the fatal mix up, by mountains where engineers more favorable make proximity for gas.
Colonies of modesty, can modesty be bigoted? Act now visit the necessary. Love that.
Nothing is something if it serves an interest. Superstition is talked about a lot. That taboo tattoo process of animal love smitten bitten or kitten, beguiles imagination, wispy creature like depths, three inches free.
Expands as sifts. Love that too.
Tentative — always a mistake. Hi knows. Deer and river and mines and hen juice, expensive debris. Something seemly deliriously unfavorable pending endlessly renews itself underneath. Has to do with reaching, taking time and effort to reach.
Troubles in trees makes anti freeze.
What settles to bottom? When ground has fallen. Weight of rocks.
End fend bend spend rend send. And pool in the river of the liver makes for new parts. A quarter thick known as Devils Breadth. Where hits every meter of measure. Steam pump, equilibrium. Elephant graveyard. Handles beautiful. Never rolls over.
Playing dead. Oh, on the railways. Juice and tobacco. Where’s the productive combination. Gloomy flights, slight near indiscernible movements. Can add up. To scaffolding.
Mining continues to prosper
Kilos and purchase. Far away quakes.
Every recognizable point of fatality. Strikes a lucky vein.
Fertile veins. Harvested monkeys. Fury Gold Mine, the Dublin Raven. Every basin pays.
A curl in any direction mixes fuses snaps back. George town declares: Can’t kill a road map.
Mountain switches have come into view. Ad income is onerous. But comes out thick. A rich poison, a delicious way even to watch it melt into a “sentence.” Dividends are greedy.
Distrust on tinnish expedient is navigable — ah but how the holy con disintegrates. At sound of her voice. Buildings, telephones, temperate environments, turn against the middle. Click click. Click.
Like stepping into an occupied zone. Failure is skeletons warehouses out on loan.
In practice — most favorable search afterwards.
Allowances for the “melt with you” foundation claim on tigers. Prosperity is laterite, finances magic miles economically. And poignancy qualifies, makes great hair spray.
Own your own bird business
Built to hold. All in. Fruitful. Removal of modesty. Generates reimbursement.
Overcoming pings of modesty and finding immunity are interrelated.
The immunity thing here is big big big new shiny vein —
I love when yall overwhelm me. I know its not pretty. And seems that it arrives from a sudden urgency to leave.
Well thats been true since sayonara!
When stock gets mixed it enriches the feces to species. And barriers are what the onion is all about. For me you are your barriers. Know it allows dark and beautiful product to be poured out. Diligence presses flowers into llamas. Everything is on the off.
Sea and pine, yall yields are divine.
Thick growth, dirt that crumbles with smell of Bordeaux. And run back a lot. Repetition– arises on back of the golden mean.
Parasites left me unrecognizable.
Until mining turned up as a witness. And dug through lots in eye. And beat off every curse across the midline. Raised chickens. Transported fuel. Persian firewood.
Made peace with fishermen?
La Lang Bang
Bad advance? Marry the order?
A Walking Nun — of the pun sun run guns of rim bad the sailr.
Wanna Donna: Meet me at rim bads pad called pat teaz Place,
And Ziv to Liv at Cathy U.
Prayer to Meteor Bloom, sayt you will.
Xchange of java iz all iz. Wither it goes. Kindness brings up quantum want phyzzicalls — HA! Loaf that.
Have reconciled — with rayol itty. Only deux crazies left to conk cur. Presssy Tense and Sendy Wendy. Thats all thats left to make movie?
Everyone bring Nap pole Leon who may and may not be simul pull married to colorful corridors at the borderers milking the tail the frail and the mayall. Knitting with French Revolution lady flowers on scarves.
Went to let time and place in as points of geo/chemical loco motors.
Let mad hatters run spin tin tons with “no” end in spit spot kite lit night.
Lovely day in neigh boar hood. Bee there and lit go.
Dye to make Pynchwear luff, puff away into heavy levy ran dum gum till preaches peaches comma summa you to order you horder —
Call it percy nail fetters, hover la langue bang tang.
Chips A Hoy
Fizz mortar and beam and balm and chemlemm half in half out the femm Demi Ben for daylights along the bite way, when pandem end, speak leaks about tang la langue bang. Rutter mutter cutters and flim flem flam.
With who that hang. Heavy in the partus. Hawk Talk with Brothers of Sam. Is a recurring “Name of Dams” (in movie the fugitive).
Hour by the chowder of Clem pen of Clam. Wanna wunder of get the grumbler mumbler tumbler to show up with tis kit das kit a bask kit. Not stray that cat (for fat) but decidedly to em ploy joy + alloy. And fill it tremble, disassemble.
Time — to be gentle wo– min, of a sherry kind, for “rigular” rhyme. Simple keel, nose to heel.
Odd self-conscious half-open spurt eye dew
But loves the feed. Limitless is a beauty spread for infinity, yearning.
Limited is finish finite death hanging by coffin door banging in ou in ou in ou makes no sense.
Yet let the ton Vally towns where trees weenied for Sweeney some pin core opened up but then crashed against banality its hardness, its chore, the goat with a bell in me got kidnapped and led around the boundaries of time basking in meta fizz delusional migrations
and it was hell, life and death set loose in muse from neck to neck moving like apples, but that is the Sweeney myth, sleeps outside instead in trees, cant come in. Horror deep inside Sweeneys soul flying off but moody has fallen fallen
Into “bills of absurd” with cacky Camus down down la chute raising in the acute.
And yes was by your hair and yet
Do lor es flipping out at everything — hated it tried so hard to resist the Druellas — they came out like a poison — I hated it. Sharks if not careful KILL themselves.
The swamp owns me in a way I cant get out of, to go in on la lang at least gives a way for it to bang out betweens. For “beauty’s” sake. And the ugly pigly mugly struggling runt of ham I yam.
Big reason back at all — is cause that was wrong — was hanging upside down like a hunter and its rabbit, caught inside slaughter of the precious — a strange rash incendiary net dragging me down into its mouth like I was its pin ball.
Its shocking endless horror finally pushed me out out, but its a mouth of whale, cunt curtail etc.
Who pin ball. Balls and pins make for spins sin fin din rin tin — skin? Dont make me egg. Just kidding. Sendy Wendy better ? half asleep bewitched garden of efill —
at Monsters Ball. Tho according to Glo-Blo, that show got cancelled.
Enemies at the Tate
Penetrate enemies yet no fire.
Character has a feeling on the border.
False bottom. Wall draped — the domes.
Military ground brave ca carre croix.
Forbidden fruitless repartit. Re portage. Cannon fodder is also canoe. Nature where precarious — seeks out, loops.
Without condition: is in red, not black, five times. Get that.
There is no black yet? No beautiful faith room? Betes motif decor in remit.
Beautiful faith room got charred. No longer exists for Moi Po.
Got dis truck ed by pluriplarty crashing — into singulars one after another, boom boom boom, never knew who was up next.
Since hadn’t met before. Lost all trust in remains of “day/self.”
Had to rebuild with “Nash” and chart up from ok:
If put foot down floor == will still be there, the floor that is.
Cant blame that on someone else.
Beautiful faith room — purple, green and red.
Superstrings, with wings, at bottom of things.
Roam the dome in dead of night, for way fare share of odes and wed: The Way Famished Head.
I pay for ghost of the dead — feels like — with everything. My life is their life.
It fathoms itself a sickness. Beauty nestles in it with hunger and death. It is a sickness. My battle with Burroughs on birth control.
Burroughs and Faulkner were escape with little red riding hood — a meteoric fork in Halo Road — their ecstatic longings succumbing to the visionary la langue banging. Gave visionary poodles my comets places to vomit. Hm — adored their dare bears. When tears in in oh cents soul would bare its hugly bugly muppet foal, scribble and howl to the Low Well, on dads yellow pads no less.
They gave syllables to my visionary ires fires choirs, its a sweetness to call them vampires, where death succumbs to beauty. Pour Moi.
Tremblers who fall — fell all the wayway back — through visionary vehicular master bate tons the rhyme to frame the coming of the —
Resurrection, as a holy death bed. Makes that “for sakeness” pretty one day? But who blew knew My Name is Sue — back then. The other whirl (in Maya) was just a wilding comes the desiderata who was seeking for and peaking on the fat — but burning wick kept on blowing up in my face, with powerful business.
Cutters are a way of responding with words donated from the wood — greatly helped think thru issues (in free writing) — not just thru own sparkies but actively in anothers very different “domain” — using yes, using it, every which way — to understand better.
Acts as virtue — the share care bear — of writers actively engaging in pouring thru solution — Certain aspects of the mighty mulch — is that it is dirty underwear washed too many times — in vermiculture the more cycles of dead worms in composte — enriches nitrogen?
Jokers defend against urge to kill off like in 1001 Arabian Nights — what was her name Scheherazade —
Undead pies wallow in their life-and-death markers — its baudel’air the fragile and the cruel and loveable something in heart sauntering with Dulcinea, whose body is angry and mischievous, blood of desire stuck cruelly in dance of time — her beauty marked by defiant sin — the unbridling sweetness of a defaulting apprehension? Baudelaire didnt default. My Dulcinea loves Don Quixote right back for his refusal to die without a fight.
There is a brutal twisting mobius dimension between nectar of delusion in every surface of art (including dada and Duchamps 1917 “fountain” of french urinal) with Teddy blowing “charge” —
Mamma calls them all pretty evils.
Sherry identifies it with the male priori — and her unescapable release from life as a pin cushion locked inside with box, innies primitive potents lively dance with love, escape, deadly sorrow — and the chips of hatred where insurrection resurrection lay ship in bottle skin migrating to distance in shores —
Negatives pulling at hair, ripples with darkness. And sun with wind — Sherry baby is a desert flora.
Poets walk in with them, chars — mentioned something that it was part of party of the defense for sharing tar, was to kill off Sherry baby.
Historical example shut in chars: Heloise, Emily, Sheherazade.
A head for wood. Death in desert of the real, is at tip of tongue, every moment king is absolute, Sherry battles with absolutes everyday to stay alive — revise reflections mutating resurrections caught out, the banal storms, against her deadlocked skin.
Ponder-rosa knows its ludicrous — but its not impotent — thats the argy bargy that swirls around like a “red scarf” —
The shadow at edge of entry/infamy —
Tree alphabet, comes early thinking — signs as equivalent to potions — for their seemingness potency — everyday a desert primitive girl locked in desire for thoughts of escape skim violently against skin of death and hunger, and desire to love at distance of fate.
Sherry babys skin — is crawling with its livlihood and tenderness, in mind skin crawls through trough for little explosions of thought. Thought as presence — in itself — a fissure of sense and tense —
Men Tor canned goods are divine !!
Door bangers at threshold get very shy —
Ying Yang and Yen
The male female thing is powerful. But I had no idea about secret writers board for metafiction — free form fiction — that such writing even existed.
Tho its inspiration did have to do with “ground zero,” with that crazy crack up, violently in love, the radical singular — and how was unable to let go of its singular beautiful evil. Still haven’t, never will.
Turns out I was completely wrong. It is MUCH better to see as oceanic reasoning. But it is and it isnt. Wrecking Crew is not everywhere, is it?
Makes no difference.
That it ends up multiplying into spectral visions whose largesse is (for me anyway) like a magical square on Alicez royal chess game for motion (move that piece, nobody moves) and “war” booty —
Even though other artists are unlike me. There’s is by their own admissions very different from me. The char I call My Emily waking up in middle of road with a bunch of beautiful revolutionaries of varying very different kinds — And yet each can do it upside down and backwards. Gives continuity to original enthrall. There can be no uncertainty that as a dodo bird one can sing, no problem, but flying not so much —
Point wanted to make
Daddy o drama stuff is pure honey bee and it just sits within me as cage and quandary —
Its sublineal (below the line), subingression (secret or hidden entrance), suppedaneous (above the foot but below the knee), subincuss (brain is shaken by it), and a subconstellation (tellers of the sky) etc. And its subcontrary to the negative.
Which lets love, for me, a concept of assiduous religious epiphany, stay live.