Every noun has possibility.
Ricochets against pastiche, in greetings. Along the wayside.
V 4 — Body of Hate. Surface of Love. Done not done. Definitely frozen — but fully in its cups. Its kind of random housey but small. Compressed into a kind of thumb in seawall of copious beauty term squirm haunted bathing in mis givings.
Feels like shit dug up here is very munch under wood/lumber of Pessimus — is withholding, is compacting. Trying to be “reigned in.” And cleaned up. Which it does accomplish, almost.
Needs a joy ride.
Effectuating, a wasteland clear up. Clearly.
Wastelands are befit with urgency of endtimes. Its beauty and hording bordering on a plait of miles of piles, cleanliness up against preach from the stool methods, hoarding sorting —
Resorting too —
Everything tingles with wild forlorn hungry — damnation’s seeks beauty, as crests with the negative — tingles like a blow job.
Subliterate — meaning under waves and saves and raves of Holy Barge makes fasteners with haste, the factory of lace — churning searching searching for bunnies who roam asunder.
Palls for it like plunder.
What thunder what fathoms — Pessimus is a Parker. Too. Where hounds for bounds, branch and ferns after beauty, until something breaks. Jumping on bough. Sweeney’s branch of kettle and crow.
Something always breaks.
Blink blink — sink sink — link link, up up.
The mystery of fizzics (at a distance). Ruc and pluck born out of endless love.
Dont let monkeys go!
Beauty must then reckon so calls gentle Clairette, with place in pit where potted, soil enriched with skulls of fish, and chips for reckonings fabulata —
Finds defiance at a distance — charms alarms, bars and farms, so calls gentle Clairette.
Dont let monkeys go — Packy screams.
Dont let monkeys go, thats a wayward blessed drunk’s noble thing. Well loved for picking nettles from hair, with nails, and stuck on end, squirming rend, like rhymes —
Any one else call rhymes: Maggots and groomers.
Clairette says must let the monkeys drain out. Again.
In picture is monkey, bench, and a drain.
By a lake check. In a park check. Organ grinder. Chuck the sailor suits for boats and drone planes.
Clairette says, just dont act diseased. Break break break it up into syllables.
Packy ackceeds. Says its crash test plumb bunny when you let disease invade like logic. Turns everything into sex and death.
Let, let? From who. From what.
Stack of leaves? weaves? mystery thieves? Miss Froid and the Family. The unput. The Come, Downable.
Turns barking hounds into outline for a basement heater, in secret spy blue chalk. No murder makes sense till the end, ag a thud, sag bag lag tag hug the fug and find agency to beg a leg, off of.
Sexually infectious, rot sweet perseverence —
Well of all souls, slave like encounters, where love fastens to flame and misery, fire and inquiry, ray of sod, soul of Hamm. Dog log mug tug hug.
Climb under rug. Buggy rides.
The Other rhymes with Mother.
And not much else.
Merges with the distrusting, racing for chalice and palace defiant stupid loopy Alice — inner course outer course, fall into sea.
Eek seek leak. For safety.
But oh the murderous Peaks. Thats what Dante forgets when gets there, so absolutely, shine goes brother divine.
Yet clarity creates sudden shallows seas to bottom. First fell into. Bloody waiting for me fuck, oh great luck, fucking seismic.
Brother also rhymes with Other.
Alice got graced. Sucks off on Huck and Blake. And brothers Brown.
Crazy damned, sweet harness of came a lot and carnage.
The forced decision loop.
Chancers, wavers, bathers, running the ranges in plaid, scots mad, oceanic slaves on fishing boats with all the of. Of Otherness.
Nights secretly discretely sadly madly do drugs. Someone starts singing a prison song. Others join into chorus.
Beauty holds out, Genet boards boat with Bond, never say never –.
Colette by night light
Underground Man —
Who for gift of plenty loaves with great want of forsaken tenderness.
Lights are blinking.
Horn across the wave billows bellows. In a night cover of clouds, dark and moany groaning in sea of blanket distance.
As love hoards and empties every grave to the twilight. To muffled motion of a dredger out at sea. Cutter suction dredger. Crank baits gutturally.
Door and Thor
Cleo Clam Monster is sheltered in dungeon as poisoner of prisoner.
Its written into beach towel with haughty mackeral tabby delusions of sunning under the drip mitt and kit gods tanning blood.
From before she was torn.
Given to it all destitution survives in god, hands covered miraculously in blood mixed with stick, thorn with bud.
Prayers are folded and holding at door.
Strange distance emerges from beautiful bleak reek seek. Find a stone to brush against sharpen crazy pull from it.
Hammer heart pounding as rounding edges, to vision of pile ups. The Dead Pie sits there puddling brooding — half way housed — another fucking Daisy, for the love of, hell —
Door 4 score thor?
But the links wall up, and set off charges.
Charges with bolts, bolts from its beauty (and squalors with insanity) —
Wild, wan herd and fly of a religious terrific of the sacred senti mental martyrific — cut to pieces and spread into resurrection like Osiris’ bones, goddess Nut and the chummy mummy dance.
What death driving silent high pitch that itch for bottom, the blinking door at graves dialed in end, come robber come stone, Cleo clams, fumbles grumbles tumbles, from shock of beauty and boundless death —
Underworld as agency bestows sweet terror of time as a nature of mime.
Rock. Drops from moon of groin with bulls eye.
Visits with health become like attacking a trampoline in backyard —
Where waits with Dante. Who does coaches for pressers!
Procession of episodic thrusts
Free nixies, free nixies. Phoenixes great big gasp back to life.
Come spider come lobster –
Savant antagonist heros assuming shapes of theopathic ubiquitarians. Every animal holds some property of love. It is written. Some where over.
Cleo says Packy got a gun. Fired back. And retro butt killed her. Or in any case she died. Matter of holy transmission.
Or in any case was under spell what the hell.
Death the thing.
A wire up to god the bod, sleeping beauty and Hobbits ringing.
Horn again horn again blaring. Sea noises grace plucky and menaces — always the sea la mer la mer la mer.
That fucking song.
Sing song rhymes with dong. Hackachoo. Acker warms ahead you cant do it, liar.
Dithers shock of litter in heart — the supplier.
Shunter and fitters and vixen.
Olive — helplessly left behind, to mew, sew, mow, throw.
Drowning in eyes that kiss the ground there are days that walk in angels shine like playing with shadows in and out of time.
What doubles into troubles. Brautigan hues. Patently soaks in visual clues.
Colors of horror whip around core of stunned and clanging pots, begging off to sleep.
Cleo confides we are clam, shackled mysteriously to moon and van.
Bits and chunks, devilishly gruesome, get away get away —
The spark and the fold, melts bottom out like a fire tossed-on blanket, why thumb sucking terror of love, its milk sputtering evil —
Love turned to arson.
Confiscated as reason? What does it want. Where love becomes a death wish?
Shoved in face with pillow. Movie magic. Tongue, cut out — magic tragic.
Cutters and beamers. Bottom sweepers. Tip, tip the chair over just there —
Rocking lingers at edge of gesture till falls over.
Crash. What dribbles out of forehead, circulatory wonder of blood.
Drip of it, rolls down, betting on rights to die with sun. Then and then — Nothing. Nothing is merciless. Jerk off, queen.
From movies call Dirty Hairy — Swept up into pleasure where pain deigns, cranes to anoint both, body and soul. And releases from time. Into wretched sexy sublime. Let it go let it out — go for blow.
Probabilities release absurdity into a capture of line. Consigned to airy designs — and shivering planetary flights of Suc Le Bouc, Magique de. L’oil.
thistle sifting with the sts
Riotous perfusion gathers with cowbell of lust at back of knee.
Till breaks down again, in an excess of love, hap so lootly.
Curled up in darkness — like a spider with its legs pulled out.
Becomes free of worthlessness.
That feeling of death with a blanket. Abject death shape shifting into gales of empty hoarding boarding sorting cavorting chortling —
Get out your gun, steal a car, go for a joy ride!
Car turns into a boat. Or not.
Does drunken loops, quivering with bereft necessity the shambolic colors of twig and plight skinning against rudder in cloak of twilight —
Off, get off, to notorious hole in wall.
Pirate cycle — breach reach leach.
Read Nietzsche, loop and neck, find a tech, eat a peach.
Sunflower farm girl
Farm doesnt just grow one. Also bakes.
Especially for hierophants, haunted and hampered by a mystery of screamers.
Woo and blot for angel blood.
Every fall to the level of scream — becomes tied like a 1000 to death, wandering climactically for woozies and fizzies —
Murderous where probability tassels for curtains shroud in restlessness darkness, revisionary child pretending to be dead.
The manrope is hope, is a bearded circus, one of many features, horror and beauty of love.
Excrementals, Pessimus’ patch eye, vampire and pirate cycles, escaping escaping, like out of a hat, with flight of doves.
Waves of wonder and beauty — split into a glistening trough for visiting horse tenses, shed of monster many teams the gender unnecessary to rectify or specify — undead gender 4.
Sea saw sea saw. Silent motives. Bury the scores.
Ground buckles mobilizes with rigid absence, the fountain of fate —
Quaint lean in — to it, wattles battles with inquiring density —
A spring mean value density — accounted to in the figurative, like incense.
Buggy is an open carriage, allures allures, wild miraculous allures.
Miracle schemes prolong a long one, ding dong destiny, the big fig is a wig is a pig — scaling the water tower.
Beams and barnacles.
When rain falls on dry mohave desert, once a generation — suddenly erupts with wild native flower.
Doubles as Dark room
In reflective-show yellow vest.
Southern by chip and chow. Charged with standing blue flag.
Waveons waveson. Traffic snakes along.Wind of every face in the blend, follows the mole roll crow crash test tightly.
Not not standing at attention. Mustnt. Be in time be real. Happy holy pennant and pole, Pessimus field glasses.
Stop and feel.
Chop boat, snatch to block, holy water. Evil prisoners contour-squeezed into double false positives. Dormants conspire.
Doubles as darkroom.
Mo’ ped as Genre
Stole the moped, as a genre?
Hail the new place setting.
Clairette says — hurts because you let it —
Twilight sighting says Squiggy at fuel pump, leans to clean window, squirts from poison with a flower.
Lands in car. Stolen — ?
“I cant drive a stolen car.”
Getaway get away.
Packy says, yes you will, will.
The dotted line signs for it. Couple of wankers arrive from Colette.
But its Pine Needle Park. Drugs, night revelers, first a scream, then a far cry.
And waits and waits and waits for it.
Where freedom takes to, escapes to, risking everything.
Two by one
Over the top?
Waves of beauty built on top of, grounding, forces.
You dont do dialogue in academic. Steven shakes his eyes. Gets a rise.
Wallace shows up as hair of headband.
Let it fall into poetic traces. Blue pencil. Sincere but also — room for the remorseless. As if in a pending gesture.
Cant stop now.
Abject splendor for the poxed. Sand in a sandbox. Incantatory peaks.
For any likes of love. As if a map of the divine is just another dug out seeking freedom, and delivery. Let me out take me in. Clairette, says it gently.
Hand in fire. Ships ghost by as stillness rises and beautifies. Cleo pats wall. As if a shocking earthbound conspiracy that grace of being mortal was found cheek to stone, wood and rock. Divinely opened empty sock.