knurk or snit?

For some people it’s like a nymphomaniacs fat clit, the ego. And if it isn’t afforded its necessary daily dose of heavy tongue you can bet your last laundry pennies it’ll dry scarlet wild and become chronically irritated. Much like an un-creamed eczema sufferer sewn into burlap Long Johns. Chin kicked and then beaten to death with a sand bag. Well, I’m probably overstepping the pudding eggs there, but you get the picture. This - what we’re doing right now - can be a most substantial vitamin substitute for skin embrocating and cosh avoidance. However, I don’t expect many nymphomaniacs to start burning their Jackrabbit’s for a cut and paste buzz.

whatevermind

I wander where my mind goes...drug behind a car, steal off a tram. You and I'll get a long fine. She had a head-face that punched from thinner dents. Lurk wanted out that shell. Green seas and brand spanking whore shoes a-clopping. Don't play to hear...fuck off! Get your own box divided into compartments. Make your mind a bank and let burglary commence. He sat and swallowed her smoke...she gargled his coke, and they both choked. Pah!

Gingham summer skies only ever claimed American lives...he remembered...heat was always a gift. Never show-off the cold shoulder; because captured he quite naturally found himself Stockholm but also in love with her Capgras. It is the mirrors and not the cameras of course...that bullet truth.

The yelling at herself had become his favourite draught. But soon their eve was snood.

foetal renaissance

And every place that's set wants more

Fat cradled hangs on gassed applause

Sad heart dark as a prune

Unlocks the tenderest tune

Romance sentimentality

Collects as does naiveté

In dusty giant mounts

In dusty giant mounts

Sneak down amoung the family trees

Careful not to knock loose any leaves

Two splinters in the womb

Come out and make some room.

dry so laters

Here is where it’s driest, her, drier than an Arabian fume. Foolish feat fed in, trumped and dusted; my yearn smashed in shards of shards upon. Gum pout of sorts. Caked with confusion, tart by error. A plate fault buttressed with cherries.
Dimple save me with your caffeine lakes. Text boat me sin inky ships.
Pipe out. Egg a fried slice and share a yellow tear through the mess that is your existence.
Ah the joys that non-hour love so fondly.

life is a hoax

out of blood

Swaddling clothes on a
Broken nose
High-ho's and
Silver brogues
Blows...
Pumpkin pants
On deep fried ants
And cherry darts
(That) pop hearts
In suds thrown out of blood.

as it is

Snap suckle
Horse-wing hoover-plate
Flying toward grass
Blade brick dust
Tramp lungs
On Wednesday.