|Saturday, April 23rd, 2005|
God was ashamed.
The web of life, horror, pain, joy, and meaninglessness stretched from his hand like some ooze of semen spilled on the ground and touched with the palm.
We are the incalculable gods of the superstrings. The sea of transluminal connections suffuses the universe, harboring ephemeral ghosts of patterns that think "hey, i'm shimmering!" before they dissolve.
|Friday, April 9th, 2004|
|Globes of mercury and iodine splat on the windshield
I me will are write for you a person
first line of a writing poem called
One was to be
seen with the fish
One with the papers
Reach through the rice paper dream castle and rip out the happy executive doll
Mezzostochastic Dysphorichronomastic Enterprionism
A hands peel from limb scatter would viciously embrace please no
Bion filthlustre schizoshocklight
A spell-woken mung yam a nuanced hissing tent shuns
Faster cream banking i love to slide through open women's clothing night limbs aching red before a time recluse fades the pigment pinked with pig meat poached amply drawn before you
|Tuesday, February 17th, 2004|
Braised aardvark on a bed of ants.
Venus fly trap salad with fresh flies.
Broiled catch of the day with side of catcher of the day.
|Wednesday, January 21st, 2004|
thrice upon a time
a moon reflected in milk
a cabbage uprooted itself
a river paused
|Saturday, November 15th, 2003|
Elephant dung clung to their eyelashes trying desperately to not fall off. But it fell. The End.
Biting a tiny tim can cause youth decay.
Why should i have to, i'm not the idiot that put the cow up there. Yes but you're the one that has to bring the milk to granny and you don't want it to be ruined from cow stress do you? Besides, i have to get the horse out of the well before it's time for lessons.
DNA taken from one woman's egg, implanted in another woman's egg, replacing its DNA. Fragments of soul split and merge or depart. Those that stay coalesce around the soul fragment from the father, and begin integration into a unit that resists further fragments from joining. But then the soul splits, and one becomes three, though only two will survive to emerge from the host mother, who nourishes them throughout the nine months. Parts of her soul merges with theirs, and so the twins are born with four soul parents.
|Sunday, November 2nd, 2003|
| [with eleriah]
If you've never fist-fucked a poodle, good for you. It's a disgusting and unhygienic habit, with exaggerated health benefits that don't stand up to scientific scrutiny. In fact, studies have shown you're likely to get up to twice the claimed benefit of FFP by tonguing a trio of crab rangoon. And when done discreetly, you're much safer with the TTCR than risking the wrath of your local poodle owners' club. So remember—in this day and age, there is really no
good reason to fist-fuck a poodle.PAID FOR BY THE GREENWHICH POODLE CLUB IN ASSOCIATION WITH "OK" CHINESE FOOD
Pigs Local 421 Says Pigs Should Have Computersby Janet DammitCOLUMBIA
—The top hog at Pigs Local 421 said today that pigs, and not monkeys, should have been awarded the recent contract for banging on computer keyboards. "This is absolutely outrageous," said Francis Bacon. "Those monkeys have been banging away on those typewriters for years now and what do they have to show for it? Not even a single sonnet! Should taxpayer's money be wasted on more empty promises? No! It's time for a change."
The monkeys could not be reached for comment.
|Saturday, October 25th, 2003|
Love amongst monsters lunching on limpets lost concerns all sentried trees slicing lemon letters angrily with a silver fish dagger just the right weight for anger no no not let's be civil
|Thursday, October 23rd, 2003|
Nightly biting trogteeth yellow and smelly grinning at the open window no one sees but me waiting for the moonbeam to slant through the window and touch the floor so it can enter and run its fingers along my pillow dirty long nails sliding the sheet down my necks slow so i can't keep holding my breath and have to breathe the rancid smell tasting it then the bite on the exposed shoulder that i've learned to not cover with a shirt and it leaves but not tonight no tonight will be different the haruspex told me sage and pennyroyal and asafoetida on the covers and in my hair to blind its nose to the crescent moonblood under my fingers my first which she told me would be tonight and it is and as it bites i trace a line of blood on its forehead and we both cry out as it sinks its teeth deeper tearing my skin and binding it with my blood i send it howling from the room and then they rush in to see the bloody shoulder and torn window cloth but i barely see them from the darkness where my spirit races after the troglodyte fleeing through the brambles in terror of the binding and what i can do to it and i have to make a choice to kill or torture or imprison or control or change and i want to hurt it and hurt it and hurt it and hurt it but i can feel the fear and i'm my own predator and the talons of my mind don't dig deeper and i don't slash through the eyes of it to leave it stumbling blindly and i let it scrabble into its hole between the roots and stones but i shut it in there to mewl alone for days and weeks while i craft its form and shape its mind and make it mine but maybe i should kill it no i can't maybe the haruspex will know what i should do she'll know
"Hello little mushroom fiendling, so squat and bulbous. A most moist and terrible job awaits you once you finish your soup. Hey actually that looks good–may I?" dips finger in, sucks soup off – "Mm. Delicious. Now um yes the job–is that tofu? Oh isn't it bouncy! Poke poke! Ha ha! Well, anyway–yes a terrible, moist job, very dangerous. You're familiar with the human nostril I presume? No no nothing like that, it's just that familiarity can be useful, ok skip the nostril. It's really more like the ear canal of a chi—oh! What's the fortune say? You know they say you should always add 'in bed' to them–'Sometimes even love shows a re-run in bed
.' Ha ha! Well yes I guess it does sometimes–now where was I? The ear canal of a chihuahua—Oh come now don't look like that! Ok skip the chihuahua..."
|Sunday, October 5th, 2003|
The knife slides out of the angel and falls to the carpet, smouldering. The angel reaches, unsteadily. I put my arm around it and help it stumble to the recliner, light oozing from the wound and dripping on the floor and chair. The angel looks at me. I look away.
A rag from the kitchen–pick up the knife and hurry it to the sink; just add cold water. Swirling light fading, going down the drain. I use a cleaning brush and soap to get the last of it, then dry it off with the rag. I trhrow the rag and brush away so nobody will use them, then sheath the knife and leave out the back.
A cool night, gentle breeze, siren and airplane in the distance. The houses and streets around me poorly lit–fading neighborhood. The dog tries to be small and invisible as i walk past it and jump the fence.
|The Coughing Coffin
We call you here to teach the way.
We have no means of paying that we know.
Pleasing the small and shiny ones.
Can you see the breathing of the flame children with their mouths slack and resting?
Reginald Sniffleglitter rammed his tiny cock into the ham for hours.
Will you join with me?
You should be absorbed.
I don't want to be.
Cut-glass sickness flowers strangled in the desert by the wind's children orphaned with intersections of light
Pustulent treacle smile hands grabbing
Physician, feel thyself.
Dreamily stoking the lettuce fiend i sit and touch its moistened teeth I have to put those teeth to sleep
Mittelalorera; Mittello Schmertzla
My flimsy flopping flesh failed me most foully, foiling my fornication. Mucklity mucklity.
I have come to decide what to do. Perhaps i will eat breakfast cereals.
|Wednesday, September 17th, 2003|
|Friday, August 29th, 2003|
mussel clams cling to arm nape over the storm tide green statue copper boy bride lost to human touch cold island empty animals full depleted curious not food seeking play
|Saturday, August 23rd, 2003|
|blind - day 3372
Ancient and maritime peanuts of squalorous besquint insidiously nibbled on tender shoots and buttons lossless in the enterprise initiated by those do not
Once was twice and then again with the most febrile of lemon-scented
Silent streaming lines of fish in absolute black near a warm mouth
I can break you juicy you know juicy before me with your hat out collecting raindrops for the dry winter parchment marked with coal.
Fled horsies angry at the gnarled cabbage-headed gnomes spitting mushroom beer shouting at the dragons and tearing branches off of the slender white trees to thrash around them whirling confusingly
Who ate the spider the spider was mine
O why hi o beautiful kitty here would you take this chair i have a fine fine sandwich for you today
the egg hatching tonight maybe Jel will be there i have a cookie
One held and two were all and seashine freedom crossed with me along ancient stream bed midnight flares burning dry and fast in the oxygen-rich cell clinging together slowly and softly amongst lossless voices splitting seed-filled fruit down the middle in moon's darkness where no friend dwells save that which comes unexpectedly with accidental purpose bestowing mode and projection
|Tuesday, August 5th, 2003|
write into consciousness
sparrows freely enlightened
no anger limning satisfaction
flee the bone maker
you and you shall not see past the lightless limb
speak in the shadow
keep your soul intact
|Monday, May 26th, 2003|
Oracular sex drinks of the mind. Rain love. Peace cannot engender climax and strife wins. Reign in terror. Knot it slickly inside, deep in cavernous waste befouled. Love love itself.
|Saturday, May 3rd, 2003|
My love is life in better times
away from forest stone and limbs
and none can see and none are blind
to love i give the sleeping mind
lime-scented skin delightedly
|Thursday, May 1st, 2003|
|Saturday, March 1st, 2003|
Honey-lemon eyes scanned the precipice. No signs. Maybe back in the catacombs then. Unlikely tho. So what then. Something distinct, but safe. Cowards.
Claws extruded and pulled