a bayer of bled sun baskets drops a lizard lancet inside dolled dives. oo, splayers
of sweat lungs wallah after gizzard dances; O, old knives slice inside cut nothings; and a pallish rider of lances lops coded drives
and we wallop after sexings when a rotated
dilly licence of de guys dream about sweet willy; O, we ride from net as nesters nip brides la la, once aside a milled mind, a smeller of a grey minor heaped lies
and a laden
lady cricket scratched its leg around a nipper; and spies will spiral into braces now where mouthers of macadam eat tides and we walk across a sea of birds and cries. Ah, a burner of blinds
pulls a pussy locker with twinned mungrel jams; and we see arise a secret eagled brain-wynd where a dunny of a doll-smith ripens wry; and we have to circumsize the rigid wanky dead as easers of tithes
trickle around blonded baggers of turgid dunnies and mules under hickory dickory pealers of slaggers and dummy sand-tooled Mumma...a bayer of a bled sun basket bastardises phlegms with twinned hands
and we force a spunky spinney into jetters of limers and wig-rams and, ah ah ah, weird wivelets loosen salt jars with raveners and clams la la, a bed of swarmed stiffs kicks cunt lips as lifters of lilters land
a blind bruiser of dirted dragged depths; and we wreck mude England and we route a cradled skin-scape whose bunny bonnies bag rams
these sullen days when the milky moon drops stars around the Thames sweep seagull clays across a silky wed wolf-wombed bed-wound; and the eyes of Men seize goatish epilepsy in two torn hands; O, drowned under skies, stems
sucker after bends when a lousy juice-city swims aside a home of gems. ah ah, a lover of evening fathers fawns to cementers as a female fawn falons after ingled ceilings; and a romantic
swarm slags about hens when
a delver of daisy christs lays dicky diamonds upon slitters of caned kitchens. a bayer of bled suns baskets buddy beards under cramming hen-skins
and a demnotic gun shoots crazy tears with bladderers of raven-hymns
and a bodier of buttoners brums for dolly bums whose horse-juiced spins razzlers under gooed gluttoners of
molly mums and easy wicked mictions.
o once aside a mean mind, i herded cunt-crewpe into crazy avenues and i sear from a white height when scatty racists rope romeos to wig-rams
and a collic starred soul snaps a seagull ghost from beery slide of slams
o a donny of a dairy christ craps upon gold toast; O, a cherrier of cans cuts across a falsed tit-hand;
and a buller of oasts coasts under fig-fans.
these sullen days when the milky moon dropps stars around the Thames sweeps seagulled seams around jolted butterfly boats sings
for a lens and we see through a roped lens with blued eyes that swing for Mary..
these summery signs of catholic heists hip to a whored beat as fairies feel for fattening face-thumbs;
and coded clits crash within apiaries.
hoppers of limp canals cram a river tongue down molten throats. o, rippers of shrimpers slam a feather drum down golden scope and an
outelbowelled swinger of scissors slice a purple rope
about greying rain which trackles upon lizards; and rolled dope dallies against green tides that writhe deep down inside
oats and a bearer of coded England hammer prawns to emperies
and a wide-wighted closed sea-slam slammers closed families and a rider of false rain drizzles dearthers where grey
babies sex-hang the son of man with bearded births to dizzy rubies.
oh, once aside a mean mind, i herded herpetic seesaws with radiophonic locusts; O, peptic peppered closed
lips cut pigs and a digitalis of an idiot TV hastens to murder when bogies
sex-slam a horse of pure midnight with fatty fairy fangs; and a laden mirror mate which shines across
dying sleaze slappers after river-drakes, and a mingy mind pulls sleeves
across ashes of oval cunt offices where closing bed-beads swing bended bladder bees inside a head where
ridden leaves lapper for epileptic seizured fast dead hairs; and mental leas
scatter harpic beds across the ovum land and canned wee
swashes bubonic blades with dirtied bleachy sailors; and greed
widens into wolves. La La La. Eyes darken for red-head seed.
the radars of ruined romance curve around a northern belstar. a cagers of screw-ins lend dolters to sleep where southern cars collude with infantile concertina-dog-ignition; and a reamer of faked
swells up and up; O, a bleeder of clogged cognition smokes Mars. La La, an abuser of de river raises DVDs from venereal cards and a wivener of wicked fever chases eagle-leas
to old stars
and a whipper of coaling city teas gather gritted gulls from aldebarren rainbows where a cunted creator of easy guns slides a giddy bullet under vaginal drove dilators;
ride upon the corn; O, a digger of dreamers sinks cock-criers beneath spiritual pogroms; and a diner of sweet darkness thrums ancient gallow-lakes with dunny breakers
of flung city sons..
the radars of ruined romance curve around a northern pornstar o old and cagy wanked fjords feel for ground as dredgers stir exegent body flowers which sink a gourami gals under curved
feline female faceless stink; and a cunted sphinx within sad birds dazzlers for natal kinks; and a shunted spunky squid laces nerves with chaining bolters of scummy cranes and builders of shit birds
and a panner of pussy money leaps across riders of old nerds. we scatter harpic beds across the ova lambs. Death cum-nerves doctored bum-lamp; O, a crazy mass of clams sweetens herbs
and, scum-iced, a bun of brooms drearily sweeps aside swerved roman devisers of staggering moons which part for lost pyres
masted harness of a bled void sun-destroys curd and a mane of dilly hornets drag dragoons across mental furs. O veinous graspers under small deaths shed salt sulphides where
of mod lasers sunder tall nests with oven-slitted hot hair; and the raider of grey thunder decks digs with shredded air and a bonny bum juicer jacks a jammy cart with torn pears
scatter harpic beds across oval cannes; and lemon waste sweeps modelled trays aside dreary dunging dunny bee-pastes and a weeper of the slayed smashes oranges with blood-cased
blabby witches who snap a crapped cap with finger-tastes and an oval lamb lends catty soapies to stung toys; O, mind-flaked, a biddy of a briny cowled boy mounts a clotheshorse; and rapes
rotate when weevilling poem-boys bleed for equine tickertapes. Pricklers of daddy veins warp a muumy moon. Pressed dates swanks after pled prunes; and a disappearing opened gate states
a swarther of blood lightning with nylon buds and sallied grapes and a man-o-war whips wiccan spelt-shit; and an herpetic grate guzzels ginny grans with centrefolded coded rectal scream-shapes
and fazzling faceless frigs fawn to a cunt-mopping mammy mate. ah ah, weavers of tasteless ribs form a gun from a cooky cape, and we arise from teasing tongue-digs as we fall to hooky snakes
what with butterscotch in banana flaps, we strike a prayer from bandy marooners of spind wee piss-crap; and lycra sea-scrums assault blandy brandy blancmange; La La, we emote from cum
and we demote love's decorous motel with public penis-plums. Oh, a writher of corn-liquids rides the latent rigs of studio-scum-lungs; and we denote closed marmalades with radar and anus drums
and a baiter of bollockry snafflers for twiggers of hostel-hums. we scatter harpic beds across blue ova bands. Deaths thumb crossing leper cabs; and mental screwed drams kill kid cum
and a harp of a mind-moan fists rolled goat into blithe bums and we have to mount a pony mouth and we have to mind-stun: a brattler of a briny bunny bit with candlers of leg-thighed cakes
o we scatter comical gas-walls aside spastic ponies under gum o we chew for sexless England. O, binary bikini baloni cups tit-tomatoes..
the dirtied feelered sirens of a mad loud strawberry swing drop a dead doll inside old england; O, ringlet ass-rosemary must don hands as necklaced gold women suffer dust; and a bowl of scarves slide ties into laden muff
and a scarlet princess studieds eyes as salt lust swallows pipy pyrex; and we are feeding sorrow
the dirtiers of rivered gardens
mow wheat away and a bended sea swims for piety, and we stray aside boned beds; and sleepy dreams must play and an ochre of lemon sucks a nut; O, we pray
when once a glassy mind
dines then sense feeds.. what with widening windmills shaping vaginal stoned flowers, a hemmed horse on a fast field will surely enter showers; and a passing power of a wet hand hastens to towers
and we fly, fly as we cry, cry; O, a lacer of green nodes dig knoblets with dicky hands; and we raid rolled toads
what with wivening rainbows shaving vaginal
powers then a clogged horse on a fast yield will surely flower, and a sea of bits bags blued tits; and we lay lobes aside sexy saltied sweet ruins; O, weedled clothes
diry wagstaffs with nineteen spidered jim-jams; and a carted slagger of kids suffers under red trams.
eaters of fascinated moon-light cuts a solar cut from flown veiny spoon-sun-life; and a bended family has to stun pleaters of retardive hymen-gun-christs;
O, a rended red babby comes
back home where death's cradle cries; and old roller guns shoot a dangly shoot of coptive candles; and we suck upon drunk lungs.
what with wiveners of wide screws locking scum: o, what with riders of blue brides swelling for thumb-bottom-illings we will siren after brushy loamy killings; and suns
swoop aside a town to taste money; and we run aside a blinded bender of a fierce kneed allotment where grey gum-shoe sticka fingery daft dead dentures beneath bead cushions.ah a gunny goaty that grinds pus will cut
washeries when a benny in a gourde feeds fjords.
pealers of pushy Bethlehem ease
patties into gourdes la la, eaters of ashy body phlegm fleeces closed bed-claws and ash-hidden flashy hens cluck for old eggs on a slalem-ward; and widening lip-bridled-cased porn
across tea dregs. uh, easers of lost stinking brided pizzas pee upon a pepperoni pussy-pee-pidgeon: lo, what with wiveners of wild screws turning blue tocked fanny heels under raddlers, we must curve
up. oo, what with windowers of smiles locking furled friends we must weep for glass as we creep aside cow-friends, and a doggy drunk tailed mast raises clowns from ken
and naughty nous and ken cry for ash. O sex can't end
grainy geesy greasy folder men abuse death the send
easter pomades to xmas murder; and we cry for gems.
cakey knoblets on a keen crapped hill chase deaths into the dark. la la, baky shaky dumbing
fixed wipe-dreams taste rills when dying sea-parks slammer a body bower under lippy lipids; and, O, we hear hearts
beating just like mad thunder; and we arouse dams with our
own special son whose favourite mamma weds a child whore.
grainy greasy eaglers heap slayed fire where burning jaws drip angelled teeth upon lady tundra; and we arise from
peddle-paws and we dazzle darters with baby mumblers where cold stores
supper for easle-partners; and we raise sleep with blue dawgs. uh, pealers of passive pled plumers hiss
for blood as cold mods moisten mares with rollies; and we smoke god with lobbed
citied tommy dipped towns. And a dead mind cries for drugs and we rape after clowns where dillers
of minds move love to emptying endless tears; O, we rip a radar when death
does a dizzy drawing of drawlers. La La La La. pealers of puny bum-pus men sweep lemons under death-limes;
o, a river under dusty men heats swarms when a deadline
heats buried hot bitumens in cunty wanky starfires; and wounded whippers of sweet screams have to sea-slam dirtiers of
female wool; and, mind-screened, soft madams
sweat after canine wood. O, in a dark screen of Adams wee-wee wagerers will slice aside hearts with sirens and where Eve looks up
to god and genesis rules reason then a boat of seed sends ashy steeds to cool romancers.
grainy greasy geesers of bible-bud mind-pokes dance for oily sex-shards: la la, we
arise from tweezers and we sing after plants; ah ah, we arise from seizures and we fit after cunts. o-la.
pealers of pissy bus men heat demons under sex-sputterers. ah, a sunny
kissy mask metes deaths to fortune. Wine slashes ginners upon lager casts as we raid god's mind..
uh, a cataleptic spunk-giver hips to prats as bum-brine
winds doggy dust into dippy drips; and we are grimed.
castlers of dizzy ruins star-stage a killer's cremative crenatures. o musclers of easy screw-ins sup a wet bead-cut; and odd denuding flexed creatures demonise
babbies with lions; O, wild whipped slutted kinemas
serry a sexing cherry with loud limbs that fall underwatered body-masks; and a razor in a crowd shaves Aladdins bare and lifters
of lily lilters lash a loud soft butt to cagy roman gypsy web-wedded wet spiders.
castlers of dizzy ruins star-cage a canny cave where preachers peal a doggy diamond from breaded
mammy naves; O sidlers snapper after scythed sphincters when daft raw pectacles draw pictures
ah ah ah; we are as blind as god's cat and we are sun-mixtures ah ah ah; a blown
boy in a slaving village vamps balded bound deft breaat-piano; and an ocean-burner builds toffee creams from gold arrows
pealers of pissy pussy men blind blanded bastardised
briders and we shimmy after chilled wines when odes to devisers slip a pelisse sheath inside a doctored doggy bag; and liars leap for a citied town where nothing is left to fall down; Ah
a budded beery villa has to crack cum with foreign cars. focalities of fumed flashed messy pleb-toasts tiny england and a blower of dummy derrieres dress floats under seasands
and a sea of breasts pushes bagpipes inside hagging remands and a toffee pulley pees upon emptied gal-knickered swarms and we arise from bees when a holiday in need storms us
with lotuses and crocus eaters. Ah Ah Ah. Death drives us deeply into akashic ghost-ships; and we die for a glue bus
when we move for sex optics we must mash lemons
into blinds. la la la, we smooth coded soffits old offices get lagged; and minds swell up, up with blue canine spirit and felines under glossers
vamp for drenched teeth when
seepers of tea-sleep cuts lime down, down aside an turbaned city where a silky milky goldmine delves for easy candlers of carrion candy grime; O, sad wine
swashes acrid angellers
across darling dom daniel; and twine trackles after fever fued; and a blencher of blortedness climbs up, up where fairy fotal foods french kiss deniers with bines
when we move
for sex pockets we must mash melons into a vase-hearted dog merangue; and a veiny tree-vault soothes filthy fans with female bee-drams. O, deadliness sputters for a naked tussler of day and night where a catter under word-war
weeps, weeps; and we shimmy in chiffon gowns as we swab a dabberer of jostling bummy blubber with ferny fangs and toothy coated mind-walls.
localities of fumers folly after glass-rape. Deaths drink chalks Summery fatalities jolly after masked apes; and young hawks simmer for menstrual fever as fast fisted shivers and fevers
sit a donny down inside a red town where nothing quivers
Uh.. a puler of a lavvy duner nestles under de blood stoners: uh, wealers of slain vein-vine-layers
mush eager privet-doctors with lacers of a blood-kissed tarred spind idler-moonrise; and a duller of road-kids
snaps a meaty cross with twinny torn owlers; and radio pigs pummel
a blorted tongue with crazed paved bellers of figs and we chant for figgy pillories of bled night and day-frigged
eyers of gossamer brawls. O, as slavy sun-streets fill up for
an urban dementer of drawled cagers and fizzing ride-war and a blender on a sad cliff crusade for fuck; and we snore
after a purple parade of pullers and pissers and guilty whores
a duner of a doner mad sad lad layers rindy daughters with eaters of wild woman-dyes; and a gunner under cheese-ribs rams a blue porator around the citied tawny royal river Thames; and
low cad kids
dream after salts when a bridler of utmost day and night hits a fibber of crocuses when crocus eaters lay deaths in slits and a dunner in circuses sends a lotus
to sleep; O, blue lips
layer after rockers of closed men who sweat for blue nips.
golden fishy irises for gougers of green eyes and a sylvan apple picker pushes veiny towels around brigands and a baited heart shells cordons about the trees and sands
dated female swell suppers for drouth as red islands flow into streams where iron-on lovers lash smaltz to tits; o we serenade tiny men when the wind is filled with horses
of popular flowers air-collide with sex-dead sauces.
these indigo nights where i laid my poems threadbared hasp a torrid swarthy snare with a looper of the bee-haired: o, a
crazy cabin falls like hair and a lightener of doll-prayer pays in sullen dividends for aged grubblers after gullies
and i ride swanback to an apexed pile of perfumed dillies
and i writhe for snaps as a bodier of breakers bends lillies and my bridal murdered gown swallows tears from babies
we have the golden grips by heart: we weevil for masks and
sad saint jane and her masted arse melts into the past, and a wakener of veiny rain blows blacken birds with epileptic vines which murder all bright flowers; and kids
crapper of a mumma under dogs who car-crib a dolly diviner with lady summer and master star-ribs.
these indigo nights where i laid my poems threadbared hasp a florrid rectum
under weavers of guilty sea-scares; and my gardened heap cheeps for alloted grass as mares molly-cuddle a bony creek that sails inside faked meat
and a cunny penis twine knots
facs on a spinal leap and a benny of a headboard bangs after endless sleep.
we have the golden grips by heart: we weevil for casks o, a dinner of a starved rolled girl raises
a rapine rasp and a beaded bedside bird bears a berrier of baby's blasts: oh, we have the golden grips by heart: we weep for wasps,
and a stinging of a miracle maze hips to a
purple grave and a swinging jumpy chemical cups tits with cloths
once upon a mind in a fast
world, i sharpened gobs and my mamma Bell Winda weeps for easy sods when eyelets pass a pisser of a finger inside a vaginal serums.
easellers hire petrol curtain-paint from dummy drivers: dams dig for fire and a metal sainted dummy father-fathoms faces
of mickling mermen who dive aside from falons and a dunny beady bird ravels under crossing thighs
o a dinny of a biddy bad boy brags for oozing grey tides and i talon after bat-ticklers
as my blown bed's rawhide asks for dented feeding darkness; O, a bended felon
reads a silly cookbook to a mencapped dizzy cousin but my dizzy cousin has no head and no real wife?.
chokers of musedy cherries champ across my lives; o, ropers of bluesday berries bank across my old life
and i know the faces of the teachers and i use life to ascend the blowers
of greyed preachers; O, mice dangle from dangerous tails as sadness snatches christ, and my daisy dotty darling whose face seems very nice
hops to a rabbit beat. La La. I have
no see to slice La Ah. I have no price in life. O Uh. i punish my life
once upon a mad grind,
my teething baby soul spliced dirtied penis peacedom; and my easy Lord ghost-triced a toppler of anal titties; and my dizzy Lord roped spice la la, eyes burn inside out. la la, peasy pissers rang kites
and my giddy god does not exist but sings for midnight's tawny buzzy cunt-slot. Deaths drool about tight wipes: and acrid lost stations capture old nations as grey gripe
ogles after dizzy dunes where a cat of a kindler spikes
donny bees with bearded bannerers of bunny old bikes.
these indigo nights where i made my name fashion now the bluesy prisons of proud clouds; and rowdy boy-crowds cry for criers when a boat of riders rots upon stone shrouds and a bed of pistols shoot oats with pin-pricking
these indigo nights where i made my name fashions now easy long ladies fingers; and a lane of rain captures loud bad body braces; O, a statue on a ridge kills alleys
and heated pissers cry for fairies as oated oak-men expand
unto horesy homes where diamond sons sweat for tans; and we ride aside winded winos as ginners stop hands.
these indigo summers when weepy winters washed us hip for dangerous fathers; O, a cracker of cauls rusts and a boney binary of a lather soaps mass with rot and wetter of a dead diary
dreams after sexed tops
we have the evil names by naked heart: o, cocks hop a canny eager vulture into racist art; and radio slots slather after timed men who were swept from
a digger of pandemical sex history; and we must slop
a benny of a bridler with holy hummers and cops, and once upon a mad mind, i saw a baby of a soaked woman sweeping cold timepieces
under walls; Oh Oh, coded under men radioed skin as i saw oaths
denying de rose; and a road of lions dammed cold and a vaser of vacancy hits after scissor-souls
we have the eager names by pure heart. Lo! a gouger of humaned rain cuts aside a lard-toad a squelcer of a hammered skein raises robes and a baby bomb bangs for suns where gold
grits to paled teeth as a naked headpiece folds; and, furlowing under massive rain-macs, i saw the son of judas-joseph-jackchrist sharpening nudes with stains; O, i saw the girls of old light
slammering babby souls into sap; and menfolk nip phapos christs, and i learn all about bogies and odes to rams; O, dead life swallows petallers with pleated ploved flowers; and life
lightens into murderers and christs cram cakered night into radio rooms where a vampy shampy girl of delight suppers for damed dogs; O, i saw the eyes of mice
layering blonded ratties with roman rabbits. Heights end in self-death and a bay of slowed cum sun-habits
flusey flown families
with closures of moused mikes and we read to daddy dream as we colonise red bikes
hipsters of idle cheepers chaf for drakes as sky falls under vinegar idols; and a leaper of
carts jacks eyes and, loathed, we learn about dolls as splashed minds swallow mental trampoline. Lazed with balls, dancers ride
deeply down inside a bath; and i saw a dirty bride
giving head to wideners. O, once aside of me, I suffered veiny trains with local pigs and eyed sea
once upon a mad sign, my bedded body heaved a miraculous dotted bum with
vagrant street-seed and a cunt on a bus hastens to piss; and old steeds rode from deaths as a giddy mammy bus cuts trees.
hipsters of eager feeders cuff for scrapers as slowed
sovereign Ides snap a cruel cloud from a midsummer's acid crue-set ; O, a startler of snakes rides upon a manx saddle as a breaker of rapes cries for
eaters of grey rifles; and
eyelids die off as whores rise from city phlegm..Accidental loss shits for penile vased vast plangent pugged vagina; and we rock for harlot-wards and we dig for clogs when green leas
get moneyfied by blueberry fields and the hamstrung pisser of body-wrens
ad the dammy boys i will always hope to see again hit for a mummy of loved joys; and eyes twist
as old cigars marry smoke medulas to hash-toys; and eyes kiss coded card-dogs; and we swallow lamps as a shiner of a wife-ward
loosens cold mammas under insidious nutty stores.
upon a soft mind, my shredded body's wards swiped easy ginned guns with five-handed hospital mind-claws; and i eat for dada as i swing for ribs; and walls
sweeten lazy laps witth
naked city nibs. O, spoars licker after bummy raps and we shine for mauled gigantic gold glued men. And Anancee hauls
sugar snaps from souled flame where burnies bury body coke
inside sullen dead cheese-n-wine hospice luminaries. ah ah ah. once aside crime, i rode from family
to find a disappearing yoyo rising and crawling back homeward; and a lemon
cocoa is falling under lynching dogs of catmen and slugged dolls
and eyes stop to drug us when ashy red bols send mad macadam to madam moon's maze-mold
the lemony limey snatcher of a mad kid downstream slayers fter briny catchers; and a dulling skull at night shatters across a boney universe; and greying dreams
discern a body-batch where a wormy snaker screams after an urban slave and an city shone snaking maggot-worm-Medusa.
Under lynching dogs of ratmen
wrap bats in easter and, o, an easter surprise unwraps xmas in summer and a bannered bloody man branches under screens
and a vault of dullard dames use a boat for a mastery groomed
the lemony limey capturers of dirtying film trees get filthy and buzzing; O, a manx cock under bees raises revolting romances and a bodyied town heaves
pullered pled pullovers from pianos and stringers. Lo. once upon a dummied mind i saw love's old bed geesing after daddied spine; O, my face is dead
and faces that twist in my mind slapper sex-bread
o my good girl had a tulip for a face; o, i used to understand her but now a female world has cut my face, and where seas of curves come to cure the farmed then i will have to glisten
o my good girl has a tulip for a face; o, i used to apprehend her, but now my fotal sex-swirl hisses to the beat; o, i don't hear..
once upon a dummied mind i entertained a wide witness who sprayed severing ash-minds upon a delver of cold hit lists. Who entertains death now will strap sliding doorways with bluesed
bagger boys who swagger for lobmen, lollymen and nudes.
o my good girl had a tulip in a bag; o, salty fulcrums remove a daughter
of a city dream with ten farmy hands that soothe eaters of impossible Bethlehem; and a wife who studies sleuths
will most certainly arrive back home where weedlers weed-cut rainmen
from salted disappearing tears; and a mind of a slut
rotates around the evil sun where dark invisible faces fuck us
with daisy dweebs and long ladies fingers. O, cognition busts.
while strapped across a wide moggy smile i obeyed dead gods la when i crapped across
a wild sunny vial i drank to red sods and a wiverner of trees summoned me with idiotic shoe-rods
la where i scrapped against de cruel bodies then i pierced mods and a latency
of evil fools hips to stalwart city lunacy. Uh, bobs blind fuss with fixy hairs; and my mad bladdering blorting cods
heighten lilly craps with doggy drains and maundering steeples
while strapped across a wide moggy smile i obeyed bled gods ah ah whence my mouths cum then my easy easter-xmas lud loops a causal loop around coded cranes and fairground blood;
once asidea minny mind, my rawhide of a raped body moves
eaters of de gardens of eden scatter fat-clams upon grey goo and a lady man must feel aside smatter when easy homo moods layer xmas trees with eager tinsellers and magical city snoops
when crashing, my ivory dial showed instant men to cooped cunt-seized fanny soups; o, as i ride for eager gemmy roots then menial mad facades of chappers gives head to blue boots
the choking cooking cherries that bleed from out of wine swallow chopping berries that heave for silken body-brine. ah, and we wallow
under hermes when a bayer down times
telephones dialled cellphone sleep; o, we hiss across minds. ah, we cry, cry and we study milk and tell tits not to die for easy krinkly
shrinky kinky. O, a beller of cells keyed wards
and my focal mental cooking egg hasps aside poached whores and my evil honeyed head sinks straws under poked maws.
the choking coating cherries that grieve from out my mind melt inside viragoes where a mental money mamma grinds dolly dusts from evil vines; and an eater of eastern passions
peals a lemon rope around sprawled hangers; O, grey prisms shine beneath destracted light which sparks aside cat-prisons.
these daddy days i have come to know sings inside missions and
a mummy cage cashes lungs with bagged mouse-vision: ah ah once upon the eager dead i saw inside a furious voice
a plenury of pasted pastelled pulled pussy; and me and hoists
hip to a trampled heap of bummy bunny; O, cold confusion rams a daisy thimble on a female line; and we stitched for
eaten planet-surgeons who sink a needle-claw under wet-dawg
and we shoot a helmic fast TV with breakfasting seesaws. ahhhh, lemony delimited cock steeds raise a robotic daub
and a dinny dinner boy dines in the dark when geese-gauze damages
doom deniers with fierce faces and grey mauds
empired till the end, an insistent cunted geezer
of a gourde glams after bacon ken when a lemon spurgeon pees pork and a sad MC micks in its mad mike when a bone of salt
shafts ingled penises with dammy fanny vaulted grey malts,
and my miniature mien reveals a vast beast; O, cut colts hear hardeners of demure bright shits that sail unto torn tears
the chokers of cunny cads ride false cabs and we revere whoring hipped hotels that shine a barrow mind inside fear...
kangaroo angels swing from
winged windows and men amass aside a ringletted gunning whining shadow. Uhh...huh huh huh huh huh.. weevillers shoot fawns with cuts
o we shoot hot pups as we guide a pony through a mental mine-field: la la we hoot; and we sprice up for baby as coded
yields abuse deliverances of eateries and edible loaded wheels
jackers of kangaroos use a bunny pouch for filmed reels and a body in a cage cries after honey when high heels
dig a stinking footy needle under blue flowers and seals.
o we shoot hot pups as we slide under a horsed sealed damager of doggies and catties and blinded bell-peals
empired till the utmost fucking end, glisterers seal a dodderer of shutmost forcing men; O, oat-meals raise a romance from coasal hens when grey deals damage doll-drums with easy reaping
la la, and we must travel in to town to find hot meat bead-banging biddy blasters with stoned tea-seeps
o we shoot hot pups as we sidle under bun-beats o we loot tit-cuts, and then we lay thee down for easterly rising weathed boys who dance aside jeeps
wheaters of whipper boys cage under cheeped birdy banners; la la, a causal sprite inside peat bodies us where a locus in a fat flare reaps raw meaty sardine; and we wallow inside cunt-claws
the chokers of river cherries supper after dogs. O, pokers of idle meat-berries slip inside clogs as a biddy bummy of a bad boy lazes upon gas. O, a bider of money grease walls crazes in glass
and, laden, a honey crease stalls aside masks and weavers of money eat cauls where flasks stink of chilly thermos milk-maw; and we pass
looping thunder and we dam red glass
the chokers of river cherries supper after dogs o ropers of piggers pee upon flava and drugs drip aside a heaving butter-tank; and we weeedle
marg-dogs, and we raise steeled shank with twined clogs.
the chokersof rider cherries pluck cold pugs, and as we float up stairs then we caress mugs, and an ugly face faces into
fuck; O, we tug a naper of naked flier with covers of red cars
empired till the slutmost schizoid end, indolent innocent gal-cigars must burn aside de slit-most river Thames:
ahhhh. We must read to kippers as death stirs dirtying fields of filth; and we dance for curs
easily reeling in the east, we gather up the teas. oh oh, eating a false feast,
we drip into grease and a bunner on a bled fleece fellow gardens and we slide for soppers when swinging bees
spiral down aside a picker of penned pieced gentle daddy jigsaws;
and we learn of ravens. easily reeling in the east we gather up trees. uh uh a blazy blubberer bottles after penuries
and bayers of grazing models mace for beads, and, ah ah,
as we grind to sleep sex havens seed-swallow eastern gods with flexed reeds.
empired till the buttmost mental end, taverns pull a pint of pure wed sex; and we're teased by
daggerers of demure webs, and we heave deadliness with twelve hands where keys
turn inside false locks. O, a gun under geese sharpens sizzlers with baked lip-shits; and female
starch-sprayers ram the woollen witness to wiped faloned winters where a woven jam
jolts god's jacking bastard fevers; and pans pang as they cook; and weedlers of Japan tauten
dizzy eastern rectitudes with land
o as we look out across a sunned God riders of fiddlers fiddle for gas and Love jumps to a jackal beat as we rend Love; and we stare across
a breeze of true Love
and we suffer preened strokes a England laps a godly gold-top with handy blue Gods
the interwoven wifeling of a bald trike has to poison a brummer of a biker with fatal eaten endless road-foison; and eyes rip for sighters when focal bitten
a bodyer of benders with familial kittens; and hands trample pussy pies under devilries of cunted cans.
the interwoven wifeling of a bald trike has to poison a runner of radio biker-spikers; O, a coacher under glass-ash guzzles spire-writers with ratted voles which crash.
Death dreams about us. Messiachs cut grey hash and we raise routed pus from coded murder-man..
riders of roman theatres rotate upon bulled mash and we serve a world war
down time when cash cascades aside wivers of towns and slider trashed
cappy craners of livery boy-clowns; and we snap.
pussellers of pouted pissed hair snacks aside mauve mares. Loud musclers of shouted hissy swine-hair craps side dollied rocky-roller gentlemen's red chairs
and we raid routed kisser-stairs; O, a veiny bobby's player uses ogre footy to slasher after clothes; and we don swined closed hair; and
riders of roman theatres rotate
upon a bulled bad scream and, car-chosen, we indicate red lungs as we shoot arse-creams; and, la la, selves widen after dead dung and we use care
to put away the very good and
the utmost very angry.
pussellers of pouted pissed hair snacks aside closed mares o muzzellers
of scouted shit-scares poo upon cunt-flares and wetters of rubbish slitters ride spools beneath bears
riders of roman theatres dilate with wide-murder when a dazzler of german
fevers dapple dates with loved cards and eye-men surely underline the family inside gizzards..
when pushers of spurty junk jumps a lithe cunt, rivers sun-raise a crack in time
when all families were grimed against an invasion of time; and dad and mumma's mind
disappeared from down time as we ripple after spined vampy shampy grasplers of rind and torn
and, uh uh uh, a piercer of a pled stall serves cake-wine and, luh luh luh, a rider of a red hall sells caked quick-limes and, la la la, a wifer of a bled brawl
sells icy red rinds
eaters of eateries hoop for wanky hooty; and sex grinds and grinders of easy grinders took my dad out from all bleeded times; o gritters of easy pinnaces
sail across de mad and
a madam of a fathery sister worms across wet sand and a sea of shears sappers after perms when tines sink a clavical of collared suppers where cuttings
sweltering sea-slams downly down under grey grans.
eaters of eateries hoot for a shanky
stone, O, bands swing for loud hair as a mule-melted dunker expands dollared dammed hands to wheaty Numbers; and Man
slashers after dunny graves and a trasher of ash-cans tongue-tests
for billy naves; O, a trashered salt-scram
mills swollen crabbed cars which rave as thet drive demurely back home to a sad bitch who lived to die..ah ah. We arise from eyes
when history caves in for madaming silver time-machines; and a clock of cords
slackens for eateries of crimes when a rock of claws
carries incestuous valves under stationed dirt whores.
the venal vaginal mixed male manx that cups nerves hereby comes to city-rest when
glazing urban corban-birds flee from the mad dead queen's keen canary; and wards widen out to show a mad child drinking wee. O,
i have idolised the schizoid dead as i have seized
dunny sex epilepsy with twiny torched talons; O, wheezers of greying sex factories flay aside ooze
and gritted easy jemmers jump jazzed toast as chews sea-funnel candy greasers
around reelers of tomorrow's plunging hot lost news. ah ah ah. We signal after mumbler bees. Beads sting the nudies
and my angelic sex licence lops grey cots with tubes.
o come hit god's ruddy drip or else die for sleuths
the touching torchy ghosts of petrol pain parade
after guns. Oh, eateries of easy stoats peer within red rain where suns shine just like one billion skies; and a bed of grain rips rum
from beery hooves and cattlered veins;
Ah, a boat of bums reaches into corridors of cuts and a saviour of torn tawny babel-tongues neck-attacks bitten sea-tucks; and we arouse belchers from
dibblered danny drums;
and a cager under cows chews from ruminants of spind stunned sin; and we whips spider-gum with a weeping city horse which gallops after cured lungs.
and gritted easy jemmers
jump jackalled jackdaws; O, mums get interfused with mummy cloths which wind around cum and, o, as we traipse for daddies we hick after hospice-hum
and fed hoses of homed garden-graves
grace against softened simmerers of saucy spun soul; and, as we break, we come waiverly back home to find a dog of sleep dreaming swung
bodies of meated molten meat-mums. O,
as we ride to vinegar-death we arise from petroleum puddy-pull-plums; and dizzy sex crests swash evil teeth with electrical flouride fast gals. Uh, desks
drop from a blackboard
man whose lessons in god's gob rests deeply down in a dirtied town where bleeded xerox sea-drips hit upon passion's pulleyed plunged sleeve; and menfolk hear grey lips
from filled beesl and skinfolks hear greyed grips pissing appled pips upon dairy dick. Sex denies fucked lies splayers of a daffy reflex cons cavvy zips with rapine eyes
arses prat-found in fanny faces stinks of curded cries
we have the evening's names by heart:
we answer to lies.
584. de Speed-written Poem ; 'The Tawny Titterer of a Slung Maid'
the tawny titterer of a slung maid nooses sex in wet flour
o an easy Hitler sea-hangs slaves where
a picture of hours
sidles beneath bruised sleep; and an angled angel of flowers
to creeps. O, a magpie in a burned tower
tosses city varmints when a sheerness of mad eyes empower
laden greasers with mod men and idiots inside cod-showers
and the eyes of March show warm blind crows where ice
caddies after motelled milky mind shows; and we ram lights
where, damaging naked wine, a flask of paint drinks to christ's
impossible boozing plower. O, the magi in a cave heard mice
swallowing brooms whereby a dreary sun fell down around
a blue-bedded waller of spies; and mental cells swallow sound
and we dance for a davy dance and we slide underground
the tawny twitterer of a manx bird delves soap mince and a
dredger of tea spitters don waxed worlds where
a soft car
crusades after naked motored mad girls. O, a parader's star
marries naked neurones
with peed peals that wet sex-starred
body-clefts swill-found inside seized weals; and messy bards
in a booker's clancy hand as a bayer of brands scars
tremulous daughterers of nancy drams with hot-glans-bars
and the eyes of April open out upon a dinny dream of Men
and the brides of Napels blind up with dizzy lesbotic gems
and a bone of braded basts builds a baby smiles high when
we may leap from a masted dill and slide outside old children
where topers of dragged
ropers ride aside a mad angel-wind
we must roar down slagged slopers of wide madam rings
the starlets of soft soakers peer into pride as gold swings
dollop a giddy bum upon a cleft sea where a bottomer's skin
comes searing rain with cisterns and hair. O, macadamed sin
soaps up, up and a broken bawd bays for air as she spins for
ideal salt-baiters of blood hide and sugar-shredded sex-wards
where topers of draggled ropers rise aside a sad angel-hymn
we must roar from tit-damagers where a wifeling under sins
drops biscuits in a poisoned bin; and we store
silkies when walls
widen under bridal sweat. O, raiders of clams crush drawl
O, eaters of dog-meat
drip under volved vans; and rashes fall
deeply, deeply. Pactive messengers of milky pus pies pall for
fallen dizzy stables, rock-filled with vaginal vinyl lycra wards
and we delve for spread death as smallness sinks for dolls..
once upon a blonde mind, i saw teeny tawsers shaving molls
what with seized horses riding unto sex weavers of pig-roses ram a laden split-wreck, and a star of kiddies swim after hot mess and a wanky hooty monkey sunders
once upon a blinder, i saw dinny suns made cold as a burning moon. O, ladies in jade-shades dram for cunted lithe seas where old toss-trays swells, swells, swells; and
smile aside my deaf city where red raves swallow sucky hokey coca-cola; and naves drop under looms where looseats burn up, up, up., We strip care as carts burn
and the weddng cakes are burning when the baker-heads are churning.Lo, Amen
what with spiralled spies
seeing into vim we must rule the rain where guilty gins swallow dregs from veins; and greyers swim as they cry. O, a rat under fevers
pushes fasting fingers under dead seizures
and we fast for fits when coded Caeser snaps a doggy nap aside roman reevers..we drop junk in sucked eye-spunk where
old aged turkey trips for nested cunt-gears, and we wizen
after blits as bitten old tears tar fucked flyway emptiness; and we ride from old river seas. O, a cat under guns hears
mostly nothing at all; aaaah. Men steer stolid porn-lamps
with a grey mind-sphere.
the fingerling of a puppet plume has to reckon with curves and whey; O, tubes sink slackeners under hams and roofs sometimes fall in; O, a tree of
spirals under walled cold; and hooves molify deaths as a canner of snoods snaps a wafer from a flask of stews
mostly, men know nothing at all. Ahhh we rode down a false street's fast cars and we got mown down by staunched stars and jolters of sin spin in old towns where a
reader of spun wind rots aside ribbands
what with spiralled spies seizing vim we must
surely hold a hand to lovers, and, la la, as rivers cross, then flavas arise from knotted sperm. Ah, raiders rock for a cut horse whose cattlers
raise doomy delled bells from
mostly, men know nothing at all....wizarders wash crows as gentian diamate killed
gentlemen fall down, down for a women in a stall
the arses of a purpled greased bum have to rasp deeply down where cabled cunt-cum has to clasp a cunny clapper with cold gilt glove-fans; and weepers grass about wet dreams as a city of creepers
cannies for dirt-drouth; and we arise for masks and we sink swelled pulleys into faced plaster-casts. mostly, men know nothing. Mostly men fast and a genital touch spews cabbages when dust
drools aside woven sad news; O, fast sea-musks slay after doggers of mad truths; O, hot sea-nuts wallah after dullers of bad coopers of odd sluts
the arses of a purpled greased body bum heaps olden golden dirty dead cold women with sleep's banner of wanky bed-heat; O, a tractor in heat weeps, weeps, weeps; and wiseners trap lusts
amd we sweep a deaf eye against dirt-cusps..mostly, men know nothing. Mostly, men ask after daggering nut-filled killed kiosk-folks, and glass rubs a pissy wanky hooty mummy with grass;
and we ride from hanky shooters and we pass back into time to find all history dead and done
I remember mad mary whose headmost
mind seemed mad. O, i must sunder sad baby as i burn. O, a dog under the mad swells for canny walkers of dead sperm; and weepers grab
a dolter of dun vaginas with a seminal sea-crumb.
O, odd crab-slags slapper after voices when a briner of a sea-scum eats shag.
mostly, men know nothing. Mostly, men are dumb as slabs and we i ride from too much rest to find
my mental nabs made ancient as the true moon. O, odes to de Lady stab dust
and we ride from daughtery rooms where feline drag tips aside a grey cusp in dragon-dells; and a wept
sold hag sells filthy slagazines to petrol-pills.O, i arouse nothing
O, I had no sex with loving; and a gizzard under ceilings
whacks out cunt-coffee as a breader in slumbered readings
stops, stops, stop. Ah! snippers of slipper-signs wrap up, vinegar shadow seasons baiters
and a skull in a titty messy ghostly bum tea-cup spills lea-and-perrins on fabler's hands; and i will shut-up?
shoppers of slappy shampy fuckers flicker under mindless heart-herded chicken-chops; o, i saw my dizzy mammy rising up from feeders when
endlessness span like an eaten sparrow; and odal-men
will sleep for Eden when a gully in a barrow heaps lofts and, oo, as we dig into desolate attics we use old cloths
and we slop for a shit-slick as we raid a boobied hop. shoppers of slappy shampy duckers dicker under poker pot-slots: o, i saw my easy daddy rising up from tweezers when
eaters of angry angel Bethlehem had to murder men with machines of timed christs. And i suffer chidden body-boxes; O, a candid canter of crams rock's children
and i enter into the green zion of a waterbead and socks soften easy wide wives with wolfers of weepy eye-woks, and a cooky candour of eyes sees into peasy pot and
i set alight to my head and watched my brain expand unto timed clocking latrines; O, i watched over woman and my dicky lip lays words to bloody waste. Eyes jam
coded kodak cranes with fayers of camera cunt-rams.
i recollect my easy friends. I said nothing to them mostly and i suck skies from friends; and i cut my
tongue mostly: O, i detect pushers of men who cry for defective squit-quiet; O, family
fellows easy mind-rangers with hot melody; and deaths cum in my lost mouth and i learn
of monies as babies grill a swather of a swaddler with painted head-rubies.
coded kodak cranes with flavas as an original camera's brand new porn-crimes picture dirty heels with
splitters of top-breasted dick-deadness. Minds slashes after daughterers; and a bone-bled sea-spine
slams bald live cathedrals with stoned layers of lined buzzy faders. And i
recollect my easy friends when I hear my silent past rushing upon a goosed pubby gun
ahh, hens on the dummy moon wash lard in water. ahh, penners pig upon old dunes when i
wet laughter's impossible smile-screen. O, a dogger of grey fixtures rally family gossips from danny draggers of fast mixtures
ahh, these haggard days where i lay my head upon
god's palms i notice, when laid, that my eager red-head sun heats arms and i outstretch my hands to a girl men never knew. Charms
bury bones in mead where a featherer of old
dew star-calms canny careering lunacy and the painters of alcoholic farms.
ah hens on a dummy dune dress dolor in sweated strands ah a lens under mummy moon dresses colour in
England and a hisser of a lone river kisses presses. O, old odd harm
stays me with herbs and apples which ram upon brands the easy tiller of a tricycle girl who listens to odd
these haggard days where i lay my head upon god's farms i notice, whilst slayed, that my little meadow woman's jam jolts a pisser of a pled lave led to irons and i
dine on pranged
sisterers of soriety and faceless feline females. O, strands sickle after funeral pepper; and i lop odd retails as cramps study just how to fucking die; and a
bomb of a swift bone
hips to a gallowed beat. Deaths drinks sex dry. Cold stone honey-combs under junder-mess; and we toast gold foams and we shudder for feather-mess; and we
drink red combs
as curriers of kindler men abuse broomy skin, grey dromes drag a drippler of a devil whose burnt lucifers cut coronets from dark archangel asmodeus adown in
a fixed town where a candifier of butter-drones
doctors easy sleep with easter's eggy cocoa christmases
.ah hens on a dummy dune dress dollars in pounded pans and weevillers strut for ruins as a lepress in her pig-plan pomades for sexy wanky hooty parades; and old sloanes
for grey punchers of bruisy dog-trades. Wee roams aside five bad trees which moan like deadening voices and we cum inside a wide christ as idioms of old faces
drool under navellers
of sliced dreams and rolled Rome...
i weedled after mammy minds when a granada of a fast horse labelled me with diddled granite ponies; and my head saw force raining on a donkey
back where a mental desperate seahorse
writhed under blown crack; and a blonded bird-vibe coarsed from scented navel thunder into scrammed traps of grey sauce
i weedled after mammy minds when a granary of a paste-horse cabled me with draggeries of soft nunneries. O, pasta claws hit canny dullers of monkeries with blue body-beads; and men shit,
and closers of comic wards scream after baby-beats; and lips interfuse Andromeda with bloody funny picky fanny-fucking Hector; and men who strip may well attend a focal flower that wilts
aside a cunty cut trip
all red hens on a dummy day lay bright eggs for sugar-drips. ah red hens on a dunnny day lay vast ant-eggs; and old slits slobber aside woollen wolves
where a catty closer of gay clits
cry for wine and wild waters. Ah, once upon a mind, my father got fucking jacked by wide daughters; and sunny silver mammas hasten to five zillion
hot winds which hip to a goosed star-lift
i weedled after grammy food ghosts when i drank
some wee. ah, me and madam daddy moves hosts to hostels. O! gay trees scar-strangle easy thumbs that sink a sausage hand into trips
and me and madam moon shine across umpteen
horse-hips and me and dadda's room grind across umpteen rose-hips
we are laid to filthy rest
as we drag a dogger of daphines for
golden body babes. La La La. Eyes must close across wards
these tinselled days when a cupboard for bloody xmas fills up with paper-bows come now to rest upon gifted dusk and a linen toy which shapes a pursed boy gasses husks
o a naked ridden festive dream hits to festive beat when these robed tinselled days send cowing crowders to gems.
the ploved coded romancers who dance astride a void shines for DVDs with digital naked joys; and a red bird washes its wet wings with vinegars and peppers as words
directly down upon a bastardiser of hot gifted boards; and a lemon kiss crashes upon ecsematic blood-santa wards; and a deli hot miss splashes wine aside moany soap-dawgs
ah, a room in easter rashes upon trains when sods supper after knighted knives. O, a baker of meaty gods heaps to a dulled beat which shovels telephoned mods.
days when a cupboard for fucking xmas thrills to a burned beer-bleat hastens to fingerers; O, christmas buds shake clowns, and emerging angels crease for kidded bogs
and i have
seen a bed-bagged temple ringing belly balls and i have screamed about God where no God calls.
once upon a lithe mind, masses of hair shit upon dolls and a caged wide mind
amasses for grips when bols beckon dunny stalls to rasped sleep. O, family foals flit
and i hit to a drip as we hit a slowed mitt; and eyes split after hosieries of naked holidays
and vacant rides spit into blencher's eyes; and men and women glow like gits
the ploved coded
romantics who hide in shiny walls rock for endless christmas and widen when gall-graves tinsel-raid a bollock of a bauble man with turkey trades
and mended mensa men countdown
to pigs as bright blades guzzle down leechy lemonades. And menstrual drapes swallow sunny light-meats with boxing xmas fanny flowers.
O i weaken for death as i creep into dunny
dust-dowers O i seep for lost sex as i reap unto my dolly dust-showers, and a melter in a distant moon rings sally bells. La- flour
spins a cake into a the quartered hour. O,
dead grotto powder shovels diggy doles with druggard hands and mad power
days when a cupboard for bloody xmas teleports creation to a smoothed state where ruddy rust become rustless as easy goosy sage-n-oven-ready festive fire-chickens; and we trust a
of a dream in which the phantoms poo upon pus. O, a puller of a pussy pie peers inside wide wiped wasps and as we slide to festive screams we loosen clocks
with clotted seas
of dally cunt-creams; and we kill rock
salliers of sunny swashed cabbage whitens whirls with yuletide jocular white-bearded sea-cock. parriers of duny damage darkens bird with
grey gut-grot. easellers of mummy cribbage sharpens cunt with sex-rot
teasers of winter's heated village starkens spunker clots
and men of minted candy shrubbage don a silky sad cot
rams christmas plovers down yuletide egg-spots.
Vanishers of blue midnights disappear into soft air. Oh, bruised punishers of light endear to dangerous hairdos and a dog in flight walks a cat as ratters under tears wash a sunderer with clasped fat hands; O, old
snap a swollen soffit around an island. O, sex stares into blind sense; and a mind of pure shit kills prayer-reels; and my bladder for a wet brain dreams about spheres
.once aside a fast model mind, i learned about old men. Oh, aside a vast candle, i earned love's wicked wick-pay: uh, odd women who peer inside a fire must always learn of festive venom.ah
ah ah. Golden churches cry for crust as deadness
sinks a rumpler of a teacher into fat widow sadness
underwatered, i hedonised a happy day where greying pleasure seekers crammed a weepy eye inside the moon; and men and thrill-ride seekers searched for grinnng money.
O, a tear-dealt hand grasps to glass reapers
and, dunnied, a car of honey drives aside jams as a rasper of healers arise from dunny deaths when a leaper of elfin rams runs evil
ratty rivers beneath blinded xmas-easter screens where a mindless mamma messes god's mirror
once aside a vast model mind, i learned about old but laughinng children; and fever
sweats for a vine as a vanny wine-burn shouts about death's fingers.
underwatered, i hedonise easy days where an indolent pleasurehorse writhed from coded coda men; and once
i had died for a pony sauce then i rode to equine rest; and mazy veined crabs had to suck a forced
vine-inverted sex-fest. O, i peed upon a salt-box. O, i hit love's divorce
and, la la, as i sent pus to easter, then i heard about God and His sex.
and endlessness under scentedness swallows sullen bloods. o emptiness sun-sunderers; O, a ball on a cliff
sucks budders; and, laid flat, a killer of deadliness drags a horse aside gods
and we must enter into fever as we cry for cots; O, sheeters shoot paled paws with renal riders;
O, we shelter under pizzas and a bone of glass scatters bible-seed across a grey helters.
underwatered, weavers of rummy rosettes wash grey napers, and a tree of biters bums
for bunny; and we rest upon papers and we slice a nailer's heist with blown trams; and peepers
puke for puled peckers as branner of a crow-cram pitters for sweet stems of slapped
star-screwers. O, we had to cry for the end of time and her opening sex-door; and eyes will thraw
the prising pussy pies of old pylon hens have to lay electric eggs. la la, easing under ties, i saw a boney bedder being fed to dregs and love's catty claws cut into baby where a rider of a chopper
trickled out to severed sea; and i scent care with veiny chappers. Oho: cool clitted tide-times will die out now. The abusers of funfairs jacknife, La!, weavers of crowds see a fairground accident made red as Mars.
once aside a fast mind, a revolter with revolvers shot ribs with cavers of vastnesss. O, once blamed, a baby in a soft culled crib draggled against an invasive past when a clock upon a nailed
dangled dizzy hairbands from clasping vitamins; and marmalising amassing pigs peal an oinker from a grunter. Ah, we bake a false cake. Ah, kids swiftly appear to be more
than sold. And ices open out upon cars
and, uh uh uh, a sexy bombed sacked soul drives from old sleep.
when rented to radios, a buller of a toned noise shrills under wheat: oo, scented, a tv's shadow cullers after stoned boys, and sex sleeps and, loaned to mallow, a stereoed jay-juicer of a mad mind metes
vile vast body-cocks to gallowed cunt-movers; and my nude seat bunches baby-bags to callowed spunk-cookers. O, inside meat we learn of veiny dudes as a ladderer of a cunter snippets for
jemmers; and my longheaded heart is in both hands; and old war goose-grips to evil boiled turkey egg; and men and female daubs drag a dunny pup behind a dulux screen. And me and my whore
have to hip to a pimping street where a birdy inside porn-prayer peers under shrimping heat; O, a burny of a bled bride star-snores and eaters of limping meats slices growlers with radioed city-cores
when rented to TV twine, me and mad madam moon shrilled for a coaster of a cunt-crime where a baddied stone-swoon
seeasaws deep beneath cloisterers of thinning rubied bone-blooming sleets
and men and macadam melt into frost. La La. Do evening's tired pretty women overheat?
la la. And ideal icy eaty revolvers shoot a hermit with two infernal jams. Oh, evil lazy baby dissolvers hoot for permits; and mental England heaps to a suntan, and we hoop for wanky underneath
o a bed of guns shoots dreamt soup and we raid dunny daddies.. when rented to TV wynds, we may well learn about cavvies. Oh, as evil shended lime shoots dust from our
minds, easy cabbies
may well drive us home for free; and when we see into bevvies we will most certainly scale false trees. Ah, an eye in a bad lady blossoms in the Hesperides
as a mad madam modem telephones
brillers of brainless video glass. And dead videos ripped the past;
and evil eaty revolvers shoot a lone man with twinning hands and we listen as we piss across shielded ice; and a biddy under bands sinks big silly fingers across dirtied heat-crossed spermy ribbands
and we have to sing for saint Lucy who died just last year and we must now sing for Addey whose body died of fear. O, hot cellar-wee drips a dollar devil in a bronxed baddy whose eynes sear reeds.
when rented to disease, a meadow baby world has to deceive rollers of embolic trees with sharders of rubby girls and bled leads and, uh uh, we rise from sleet as we sunder bobby blood trees
and evil pented pussy pentangles peer aside gauze. Ah, beebies bow to a bled bowl as we listen to growl radios; and old doobies dribble under shoals and we hiss across de gallows as sex-doddies
damage sweety sugared owls with piercing meadows. O, this is the end of all vampy words because i have lost my tongue to piss.
589 34b? THIS GRAVE'S GRINDING KNOW-HOW..
(Influenced by Dyl Thomas'
this grave's grinding know how, in torrent and saline slide on the grooves of a hooveward glide in crime's rolled and racketing mind, on a raging spire of
angled with the angelled clock, aloft, sired, spinned and rilled as a river on the loot, by drummed and skippering sand with a riveting sky in hoot
in each hull and helm of man, flows gladly; sure in hymen and cackled with time's keel, whose showboats lam and peal, ganged and leavened in their joys
that, stabbing, knell a bell that chimes from the wrecks of a well, eternal in their glaze whose angled cities climb and floam the flowers that hatch
arced religious grind of helmethood and war, awed peace singing and the wards of stranger and manger thronged like a burning and manic song,
the pyres of words in a spin and
the world of fires as finned as mary and her burning ground, out of which the sea gunned eaves that star along the pall,
like treasons in the reeds that boom in the clinkers
of a seaweed, gyre into the key drummed light. siren and seedhorse siring, and the ships
of coast and ovum, lyring like a pew, pollenised in the waters of the black and rumpled
briars of shade and shape, for poetry alone, crime flows and breaks
like molten mania in the hand, glory alive and the serried trees roaring in the bud that is best and buried
in the cables of the west, herod angels warring, and the rooks
of fish on fin flaring in the dark, where, god knows, the ark of crooks thrills to the floods of spring, outelling,
heltering, surgering ahead as if possessed by the lordalive,
rapine and rumbling in its streams with a wound and croft devise.
Ho! there, in muscled skies, where blood scars float and beam, the flickering gates of eyes run the demons out of bed! Lo! on a scrummed wing,
how the demons brook and marry to the mandril dark with angelus and book, coastering their flyward quest through blue note and nest
down to the rainbow's man, who is yet ape,
who is slow as late, as he sleeps, as he dictates; hey there, on a sly hill, black is the whistle of abaddon's hue!
here now, drear now, crime's red ship (a clash of cymbals
tolls the greed, a son of mutiny, the need of the angelled mall), yet animula shall not cede
a halo to the hymen's ground, (all hale the son gone young in the wind!), time who
weeps is good and thin, mad and sure at heart! the strong
huloos of the stars are wrong enough for the strangled shore, and the charms of the templars are in awe! ah, soul of
favours, with your spined
drill of ash and quill, what a match you might offer this moonshine and the rippling spies of the grey: with hilted nail and cell, though the mounds
are yet alive with decoys, through the turning of your spiels and the mongers in the fields, yours is a paradise of dens! under the stars and their hands,
under the multisonous larch, mute as the pink of the land, samphired and sporraned in lud suit, like water we came: from hill to hill, our sea-shorn nineveh broke like rocks
and, ahoy!, the chain-legged locks shot along and sired us, fast as rhyme, into the singing of the holy lie, which, entired in the store of a cry, floods in the galleys of a grave right now.
o early earthy men in early earthly caves hasten to a sad hired wind. o burny oveny hens cock aside easy slaves; and me and my old mind hip to a cheeper's dick;
Laaah as a body in a lave loosens, then tines
will most certainly flicker like a snake as a vile vase vamooses timed early reasons for shelved cellves. And we strangle and we
blort under wine and we strum soft sitars with dolt-cigars bolted to our lip-lisped child.
when rented to strange disease, i overheard a meadow baby girl she spoke strange
words and did false bird and she donned bluepearl and a cunt-sea-lie has to rise from pigs as a dunny birdy outside whorls
sirens for opened cars when a faceless fissure in a
flag cab-curls eaters of red-eye with cochineal cries; and, o, riders of a sad world hears a hollowed hireling coming deeply down aside a davvy town.
o early earthly men in
early earthy caves cling to film as coda clowns crash aside la rambla as a cousin to clay has to cry about sex-sound and a nuclear blenched disease snappers sunners from moony ground
and, la la, i hip to a jetty jeep that drives due West, and the West is most certainly the true milk on a lone mumma's hidden breasts.Oh.
fizzlers of fixatives flash
fingerers inside the pitched dark; and fists gall to a liver-leap where a brolly in a stand forces rain into mad mists la la la. Once aside a dummy bay, i heard death's children using trays
and, o-la, where once i used seraphic faces in my ooze, i saw graves crapping upon five shent prams; and keen dirt drools after honeys and a beddy bladdered old-boy's boner sinks teas into curdy dunnies
Oh Oh Oh.. whence a body-beercan bobs up from scrotal waves we must heed the latent powers and dig for death; and children pray?
and these are the easy giddy days where i listen to the growling moon. O-la, these are my dizzy trades when i kiss the ghosts inside tombs; and she was sister to my worm; O, she was cancered by
and men and chidden females ride aside the rain where sunshine dies and i will awake where moon-minds writhe. Ho, a bodyer has to cry and a butcher-baker has to bake
bread-hides; and massive spun eyes
hit to a corneal beat where fast winds and bee-brides cum for tides.
these are the easy giddy days where i listen to the howling fast rain la la, these cunty wanky hooty words i prise will hallow into fast pain and my filthy cocker shaker that raises me from bats and bad papers
meld now, just for youths and me, a baby cake with candled peppers.
once aside a glid mind i heard a tailor taking me fat out to kickers
and a band of pure lime swerves about faking cardy hardy knickers, and, lo lo, a babe inside a veined bow sips vaginal faces from rippers,
and, ho ho, a knave aside a stained
crow, cunny cunt-sea mirrors medulas of spanky junk-spunk where a loosener of easy bum-brillers canes a plaintiff mamma with copious fat English copper. O, raiders
under fever when a shit-bedded bald-breaded cockerel seasons after belled bummed dicker dens; and eyes shoot summers and minds eyed honeyed hooty wanky reeved drugglers. Ah Ah Ah
aside a bleeder of a bottomed grave, me and mien and shit-cars crusaded after pinny phlegms that silenced chokey cherries with scars and messengers of belly bosom-grips cane after eggy berries; O, Mars
sinks a marathon moon in a tippered titty grind. Ah Ah Ah, venoms
harden hickery pocketers of belled spawny apes; and fuckers end...O: these fayre-flagged
days where i hollahed for a fairground accident slobber under blood-covers; O, the waller of acrid dying carousels
washes eiders down with dog men and swift sad sainted dirtied
owls and a bed at night clambers aside sexy chokey cherries where cowls hiss across infant christs; and as i hollahed for a fairground accident
i hashed in five winds; and a
loller of lazy bird bagged my eye's growl and i kissed across twin christs where a layer of slaggers jacked soul
these fayre-flagged days where i hollahed for a carousel of
graves i found in my mental trade about the wallets of the tunnels of blood and my nueral mind-maze hips to a graping jeep that drives for slaves
and my scented female glade
trips for aping sleep; O, we are saved by naked bulling fatal nonentities who ram a fairy scrum around graves
i have made a ratted penance from my clayed grave; and my skin
swelters with cunt-crock; and my penile autoclave dams my spind body-baker whose heated reeler of ferile wanky blades spin kings
under imprisoned cabbage swings; and candifying
dirty lays see rings cock-raising roman tweeters of twitterers and cocaine clasping cut bins
o i have seen vaginal plaids being used by fazed fools and grey fins come spastifying
a naked brunch with doo doo mamma; O, dreams wind adown dirtiers as blenders of bloody bum-cunts crash for spind
baying scissor cockers of slided squelchy sickers. La La old
wines tease milks into tea-seep; and my dicker of a head has to heed twines.
endlessness in a cunty wrapper mac drives dumb drugs to deep sleep...
these sunny deranging days have
cemeteries for a pulsed skull. la la a dreamer's grave stabs old nunneries as a sea of gill-gulls swarms smitten streets with dolls and angels; and we see lies
into tithed eyes; and the leader of the moon stalls as she crawls. Ah, dinted by dives, we die in closed rooms and a wetted hand delves for diaries. O, elisions in a soft mind
upon a drowned vine; and we weep for the moon's wife, and we drag bunny breaks for wines as the jailers of love's christs catch weepers from dark radios. O, a reaper of the mind-sliced
sea-splices hearts just like melons; and the feathers of midnights scatter dabby rains upon drakes and voices. Ah! cold leather tautens jemmy rafts with star-death; and a pincher of pleasures
rides a rodeo horse to a stilled face where the sunners of fevers darken mind-meadows with shrillers of failed fans and mirrors.
veiled hands study sails
where gizzard givers race as they run. Nailed brigands body grails where wizard wipers chase as they cum to the sides of a dead slave; and the noise of a moon-mum
meads with red trade. Ah, a witness to forced error slappers aside weed which glows in the mind's mouth. Terror stalks after ice. Pleasure glows like a horse. Rivers go South;
a lady lion lashes for crows as cradled sauce kills and kills ..uh uh. Tattered ashy sea-loaves crack up. Spattered red hills heed to dolly wings as keen bloody words shoot after sex-krills
and a shark in a head heaps to lazy bird; and winter-thrills slay after drawn death. Oh a wife on her side has no her will?
these dummy daddy days of sworn silk idealise
coded rivers ah in boats where many killers meet, a rooker of lost lovers rammels tawny mummy with flexed fawn; and fazed fillers
flaunt bedded tashes. O, embolised manna hits
upon grey gills and a fantasy of flashes fixes eye-fingers upon raised gourdes...
pilers of pulleymen piss from wide gingers; and a soft sward sings for shouted shit-drum. Old
mad crash heals grey wards and a fishy failed psychopath anoints gems with silken stills
And we rave after naked baths as the sonny of a broken horde ignites dummy moon-masks;
and a gallower upon a bad field taunts lemon ochrewith naked candle-hands; and sperm-seals
suck from midas brokers; and a belted bogged hand reveals
a smoker of a church to a swashed sky where serpents soap scissor heels where a cunt in a mind's eye blinds the pope. O we gizzard downstream when time's wife eats red-eyed dope
and we sunder a closet creed with timed christs as we mope aside blued bled livers. Deaths dream about everything when a scrittler of a scriver rides upon corn; and a deviser of primal soaks
dribbles down bled chins where an angelled walrus drinks coke:- ashes inside bearded hashes lead laddies into lazed limed coats la la, bitten sad duned trashes reeve for dazy deadened dolts
and crashy wanky hoot men ring the hour with birded volts. Ah? wide wivenrs widen into veins as tramplers of visual seasands dress a doctored siren ear with dangerous menswear; and stoats
swing for canny weezlers whose harridan of a prayer gun-bloats a scissorer of bandy screws; and biters of bottlers prick moats with spastic castle crenatures that weep into bright star-scopes
the lazy roundalays of red-hot kids caress cured canines with pierced picklers of grey-garotters; and ald demure felines frig fixatives
with gelly hell; and we ride from a secured gaol-kid
and a national hound barks at blind bum. La La easy suns swig comic hydrants from sharks under gum; and lesioners in figs
interfuse coded Hector with slain Andromeda...prized pigs
shoot from soapy kegs; and laden cow-cummers calm coasts
the sun in her hot cage rages after burned silks as death ends.
i seize my own blood face i learn of dullards and their indolent crying. o, as i heave a bone from mute space, i serenade dolls where men are dying and a linted head inside a shoe-lace dam
a dicky damsel; O, as we are lying we learn of studied deaths and stride in death's easy mortals. Deaths drive into heavy lungs; and we slide from sleep as we carve a cager of nude lives.
the sun in her lost rage raves after burned silks as a digger under tides has no spade or trowel to own; and we raid grey milks as a father under glass drips adown into leather sounds.O, we carve a cager from naked nude-ass
and we tear a teeny wanky torch from bared jams where coded mind-masks wash a dinnered eaty shanky with shampy and sax and a girl named Mandy
the pecking pistils in pulled plants bow down to shit as as boyhood's lip bites down on a blued trip. O, a blind cunt under strips sits upon
swifts and bodiers of stewed mitts saile for slain spunk; and men dream of lifts
and a rider of a raider sucks a dolly nut. O, a blind bunk falls from pits and, la la la, when
i ride from sally muts, then i shove an ape from ricks; and the sun in her lost cage rages after solar prayers and eyes stink for dusts
and i star-slam the birds downstairs till
my deadliness winks after busts and me and aladdin paladin shave pushy wanky shaky pussy with trust and i wove me a mad mien when dizzy melted dens lost sex to pricks
deadeners of forced fucks feel after sad friends reddeners of clawed fuck fondles laughter's hems and i eat for England when i drink false teas. Men glide by, just like children, and
menfolk caress fens
and me and madam motion moon after bummy bends and i seize rollered tarpaulins from fathers as women drink to a devil's eyes. Oh, we jail dealers of pigeons
O, we dry love's sky when a bone in pocket rends damed diamonds from good friends; and eyes end?
distant equidisant moon slices stars from bins la la, we dream of dunes when a mantis cuts skins, and i learned of evening as i studied about hard sin and a spun spind spine-skim has to crack after wind.
peckish pistils in dulled plants pee upon vegetated lady cabbages.
solitary saviours of soft men sallow dizzy sleep with far-out killers of lost men; O, a meadower's pled pig will rise from rooms as bathers in
a fast slowed frig wash a bloody bone with lardy coves; and easy digs
dopple after daddy drones where a hot shark moon enters deaths inside mammy swoons; and my rigs warp city
salads. Uh, a dunny hen lays eggy squibs
and wide wiveners of eyes blind tears with deaf drips.
deadenersof a false fox flashes under shops when a doctored sea of cocks shallows thunder. Loudness trackles beneath pegs when narrowers wank noise and i strode against sounds where i saw darkness
shaping shaven summer limbs with token sadness ahhh a flight of women eat winds where deadliness
wallops under fires when fondent funerals defend
nothing much burnt at all; and me and mamma end?
weavers of woollen whites dig an evil racist path.
o, heavers of bitumen ignite radios with dark arts and a body in a dog-bag bins fairies with hearts and i hiss for darkness as i ride aside grey carts and
weavers of illing
old rafts sail after blown men and, ah ah, i scented a cunt-tail as grey women star-gazed when space clouds looked down when
a reever of skin smashed a proud rooky sea-dart
wallopers sunder burnt dust and i sense de dark dreaming of parks when a forest in a dumb ark hastened to gouged god; O, we widen as we rend all deaths, all dreams; all self-sex and old
deadeness nookies after lady soul where bends
swirl in bedclothes. And lazy hooky
and ridden rancid rookers of red-headed sky slide to slathering cookers; O, mental wives skip to a glue-pot when eaters of cake-knives gather sweeteners from reapers
and my model mum dons tails as menswear shit-slides a vey fat girl inside coded kidswear
deadliness nookies after mallows and fears hold illegal parties; and, O, we suck tears as modellers of families loosen evil incest gas; and wideners of honeys spread tar on spheres
and i over-saw a skunk ward where red venirs fascinated hoopers with cunt-cord; and ears
widen up for blinded deafness when chairs appeared mind-worn and left to seat
prayers: ah ah, woven weavers of deaths drink tares, and eyes must first glow then burn alive.
lo, i am a keen listener to crowded clouds: lo i am a keen glistener who shaves
loud dirty city pow-wows with naked sanitary owl-trowels; and, la, eyes appear down as i use towels
to station knickered shrouds to grey cowls
o, i have always listened to growl radios: o, my head nods for missions as salt blows breakdown to reveal doggers of dun crows and me and madam moon heat for powered
babyish bobby rock which rapes flowers?
lo, i am a keen listener to crowded clouds; lo, i am a mean mind-miller; and i am not allowed to teach
of mirrors as i am not permitted to reach after pictures; O, rooky sex-rot
rampages after sweety wanky rusts and a boat of boners sets ship for a bad brand. ah ah. I have to
count aside from lots. la la, i have to jeer and drive for vanned
prisoned piers where dolt are slammed
against a glass gorge; O, i am stopped.
the shovellers of sainted wine
stir salts into gin. oh, issuers of feintedness whines after table-skin and a tabler of blown beers brags about deceit and a cradler of stoned tears rocks for old sleep
uh uh, i rode the dead when i slashed meat the shovellers of sainted wine stirred salts into suet-sin; and my fabled fever drops from Gods as hymns swing to a sad bad twee-beat; and greyed gym
glide to athletic heat where babby boy reaps dust. lo i am a keen listener to sex, death and disease: lo, i am frequently sent to sex as my eye's lease layers rotted sky with jayed messagers from peace.
the shovellers of sainted wine stirs salts into quim; oh, tissuers of paintedness oil-paint-pine for spind donny rainbows with donkey hearts; O, bled gins draggle for daffy droppers; O, a shark's red fins
becomes a blind shark moon; and a sea of pins bollocks for cunted wanky hooty eggers: nests drag a butterfly car beneath a lunar bed-rest; and my feinted gal-falons nestle under rose-desks
and monkeyers of apple-men hurl a shy core when
weavers of maple-men hiss unto the very end.
O.. appled peering pippy men send darting darlings into vast sleep: O, angelled whirring puppy men
send farting fardellers when heated daffy dream-sleep lays rended inside odalled cold sleep
and a vastness of a dreaming eye heaps us with coded fathers and, oh oh, we will jack
our fathers and we will jump all lovers.
appled peering pippy dens sends a madding crowd to mumma and, lo lo, we ride from chicken when a dog-bag in shot sky slammers an umbilical
grave which appears killed by scribes
and we sky-write for a mute living; O, dinners feed fat tides. O, a wiper of starred mice catch a rat-fire with hopper jives and a laden
layer of hooping self-sex cuts a cockered life
appled peering pippy men send darting darlings into vast sleep o angled angels swing upon bird-winged; and miners of sleep mine
for a heart of trolls; and miner molls cut coal from sheets while
a mingler of mother's milk swells up for infant loss. Creeps carnalise carrion comfort where i made my easy
name. Meats rot aside a boozy bubble skin-found within a doddy parcel. O
we jammer for a flayed rubble-wind when cagers of muscle mount sea-stricken mules with wave-riders of
and issuers of golden sky-stems stop a sexy store with a bunny of a funny fatal bandage-ring; and men who cut cars will soften for sodden markets. O, a rider
of wheat carves
medulas of clay within narky puky wanky hooty eaty girly heed to a cunny stretcher raised from rubicund shit-sworls and gritters of puny pannered pussy sheds
sweet junk for
gilded blonde-cream. Ah, we may well sharpen a sex-caw because all plumed sex is a potent pile of shitting crap...
i have entered into hired seas where mad mermaids snap?
when pressed like dummy flowers, i overturned a book inside the sea and there,
where women glowered, suffered words and heard the bees winging their honey-weights to softness and lilted stinging fleetfulness
and my body of sweet flesh hips to the blind
beat of a buried poem tree; and issuers of golden sky-stems wash naked ladies inside lynched tides and tissuers of ashen spied men abuse a little glass for a ride upon eyes
la la, a chicken in the pan burns up for turkey eggs when belled brides star-bone a snarler of a shark moon that shines upon stars as they blink
and measureless stars look
down upon a tangerine town where soft inks swallow sunless cars from deadliness and sullen clowns, and eyed pinks mar a bay of bushy tears; and tears look down from sounded iced sinks
and a basined body of bastards bake egg for bled butchers. O! old kinks carry cash-n-carry to a nude space; and a cashier of killers licks beads.
when pressed like dummy
flowers, i overturned a book inside the sea and there, where daemons towered, i jumped jails with emptying old leas and i live close to a monster mind whose frozen faces feed green deeds
and me and my maiden madmoiselle dwell in a sedge under grey seeds
a stammerer of weaving silence swallows sick when finches heave. la la, a daughter under god's violence
fattens wicks with dank dweebs and a bodicer of mothers melds coded kittens with dammy dog-sleeves
and a bolter of bionic dells dewify dogs where a melter of mad disease helters
to the veiny wanky winy vine that strips bald pincers blood-bare and a tyranny of tricker tailors itemise ghosts with fast nudes and we snare
a bricker of a slicker with tawny
buzzy bears who heal men and stare out alone, where diggers of god's animals destroy the lives we share and, my my, as catters die out then the gods inside elephants will snare
gooser of a geizer with gutted flowers that cry like men. O, lost air must confine canny crime to daggered marsh; and mental lost prayer snappers down on a tall town and a bed-bound city suffers cold hair
ah ah ah, Ides ravel into times as the sad clock of winters chills heirs and we are heir to loss as loss is heir to deniers; and bloodied reeves ropes a daffy castle into blown mouths where many rivers star-seize
grande mal seizures from pepilepsies and the peepers in the red dark.
poetical petrochemicals heap a pissy pus pie within naked ripe parks la la, a dollar of a dime pays for sleet when a cunter under slag darts damages dolor with damagers of sleep; and menial roasted luv hearts
hip to a wide wild beat. O, deep carrion comforts come to sea-start local fatal fields with teeny weedlers of gun-forts and dizzy gocarts.
oooo fishermen of flashy fingermen fan a skin of cards; and we carve a million dirty kisses in the mad arcana; and we stir aside
a bed scar and, lo, a bed of hisses slams bad dictators around licky laid lady Mars
ooo fishermen of flashy fingermen fan a sea of tar with abuse of cars and, ah ah ah, weevillers
may wash their insect hands in bent cigars
the daily chrontic news tells yellow tales to morons:
easy alley closures cry for ale and pincher of torn tallows dons the gallows from bled wards warp a spactial summer with naked boys and buzzy biddy bred broads
and, uh ah la,
we saunter for lamps as a city in a jar of flipped gourdes damages sirens with meadow baby girls; and diggers under sex-stores stabber into fumblers of forced flickerers and kinematic lady whores
the dabbler in his pimping pimpled cave sells pomanders to the slaved: o, a drug in shrinking scarabs raises cells from lysander; and closed graves dollop
dirty muscles aside moon-sharks that sink into grey greased naves
and, la la la, i centralised closed Chicago with barks that sailed after lays and my intercity clasp had me
nailed to bud-masques. OOO, i raged and came back home to noose a burnt house and no song on my stage?
lemons play for apples as melons play with burrs as we get real high and the missions to the sides of drugged day snapper for prayed dives and we set alight to milked prides with bad fevers and saddening eyes
and, summer coded, a sprawler of feelers finger after old bone-brides
Arrowers under veined cars shape darters from dull rain: oh, inventors
of fathers fuel family phlegm where red rain washes islands in torn hands; and a masser of air cuts pain
Arrowers under veined stars shape darters from red veins and a romantic
rainbow shows sweets to guns; O, skeins slide aside a gold mind when saviours of hair cut brains...
Arrowers under grained calves feed grass to field fugues
and a doler of dark sex marks die, die, die. Sex hates truths
Arrowers under thunder wave their targets around
sleuths: la la levered livers sunder graves with flayed tits, and truth stops the hour when a bedside fable cries for ancient veins
Arrowers under Numbers rave after dog-god
and truths slacken into glass. And fathers jack their mothers when a sorry sea of slate stamp upon fevers; and we dig for old cars
Arrowers under tundra rage after cat-gods
and men died?
Arrowers of soft sunderers crashdown upon painted eyes la la, buriers of lost bled villas swim for glass flats; and greying dogger dares which gamble on grass
have to ram
mental manyanas with baled pepper; and soft gillers stand aside old beddy bodies whose easy croft crossers cram us adown daddy coves. Ah, a vault of lions roars after
Arrrowers of soft sunderers crash upon aped ogres when dyers of dustbins seal eyed anger under nodules of men and when i said to mamma that dad had no hammers then
weavers of radiophonics reap a rosette from coastal semen
Arrowers under tundra sunders ashes when a
flea-friends die, die, die. Sex smacks boy faces and we eat for old skin
Arrowers under sea-men slap a scissor tide upon vims and, ah ah, i lace my shoed lap with rivers; and
sex-pins sink needlers into lubes. O, a case of silk dresses hymns
inside grey limbs where a casement of milks feeds skin
Arrowers of mad labourers shake de gallows; O, wind sweeps rectal christs away; and we shape taloned minge with dairy hands that lay liquid drams upon old aged wine
aahhh a carrier of carrion shapes pubes with cagers
Arrowers of deadly fingers sink buns into butters. Minds wallop split-miens as mental stink gallies after
Arrowers of instamatic rooms share inks with old bines ah a saviour of dad dramatics snares pinks with minds and, o, a bed of light shelters dogs in dinks as grey
savours a cunt-headed shitty smell; O, a field of wynds whips for a blonde sedge; O, a field of crimes captures blue-lady-fans with butterfly yields; and a dog's picture
shows derangers to estrangers; and we cry, cry, cry
Arrowers of telepathic darters garble for false
knives and me and my evil world soften my earth with wives ah ah bad boats sail no more. O, cased men carry skies
far west. O, we reel inside the East as we gather tides and
we gathered up the teas as we ravelled under lives
Arrowers of kinky cinema killers show old reels to dirty filty filmics of dying ate mirrors; and old shoes don a soaker of a sock; and a face of gold uses shoes
and i arise from softeners when farters under glues guides a sticky toffee under cunny. O, easers of prudes pee in a woman's mouth; and we gather seeds from
mindlessness. And a tonsured train of weed guns cobra zen whose eaters of grey rain venomise cum
Arrowers of kinky cinematics wave their darted drum under easy wide
wept wives. La La La. As gay lungs exhale from an angelled divorce then a mouse of mums
rat-houses eaten bats in mole-dams and catted sirens and a bedded wigwam soul-slams after
we have the idiot birds by pure heart; and we will stun stingers with fatal carts. And a dinky vinyl vase guns aside rude ribbets of risen rams and donkey alarms
and weavers of weederers weave for mum's farms and i strode across the dark lands where i saw daddy dazzling a divorcing dangler from five headed babby
Arrowers of kinky kinemas show gold weals to cars and me and my dabby dolled soul hits veins with bars.
Arrowers of dizzy darkness
wave the dead inside death's sun. la la, a driver of sadness slaves after bed when a neon gun shoots irises in the snapped graves; and a bended urban lunge
loops to a daddy beat.
O, as we ride from rest then we plunge mad millions of word-blind men into dammy breasts; and husks sleep for pinions where a body blade rags about the mauled,
and we happen
to grind greasy trade wuth a sea of drawled bouncing waved nazi dirty lays; and a gubbler after grey gusts pushes pillowers of pulleyed frays with knotted spermy gut.
of dizzy darkness rave after sex mess; O, old cuts capture neon rain from fast drains; O, coded creepered cups toast beers and brine; and a boated blazer bones a sexed nut
arrowers sever ghosts from coated boxers where a pup pushes out a danny gloamed flower from gallowers of sucked gabby ganderers. And ices melt in a tower ans cocoas cut
zion bead with donny dabblers of flour in water-buts
We have the idiot birds by bloody heart.
We hear nothing.
Arrowers of hurtled lemon ochres hit to a gelling dartboard..la la, a cave of senile sea-men slaps aside silken heart-wards and we idolised the saline dead
as vamped stone inside birds
baggage after dolls where a lotus inside easter cuts blind curs and, ah ah, a lardy long lady's finger flashes aside a comic and, o-la, we read about
baby as a dunny dummy mimic
nails minesis into a blanker of a bad bunny. O, closed curd feeds tea-leaves to star-grain; and mental menial naked Bird star-priosons baddies in
focal flame. O, we are fed to turds.
Arrowers of shaking melon soapers cut rain with red nerves and a bay of kids carries manx cats far West where nerds jack a jerried knickler
with knotty soils and blind spermatozoa
ah ah, a nickler of a damaged dilly oils lace with closures. Ah, we have learned how to die as we burn, burn. Ah, sleep flows under dreamers
of self-assault and sweated family; and crows
cry, cry, as we fly back home to find a baby in a sea of loaves
We have the idiot words by fucking heart. We chew lobes and we chant a city mantra about dragged boys and robes
Arrowers of guarded green Arden supper after nice midnights. oh, fallowers of evil dreams suck a feather; and eagles under light swallow
giddy gobbers as a boney baddy blather sunders dykes
o arrows under impossible Eden naffler after bright kiddy rites and we trammel dusts into flour where a baby caker cuts mice
Arrowers of bloodied dreamey Arden supper after nested lice. oh, VDs appear silent but vaginal time-teasers trample torn riced paddiers of blowing meadow; O, a vital mineral angel sees
washing delicate holy hands in a sullen rainer of a bow; and christs rock for cocky crucifiers with dilly drams. Dirt drains dead dykes with gazzling groaned screens
that show sex hurt to filmic spikes
Arrowers of guarded green Arden supper after nice midnights
gallowers of severed screams sea-hang poppets from old mikes
and, la la la, as we sing for filthy manyanas then we shoot life
when silenced by diners, i saw a swarthy cunter in the
dark gathering up teas from the East; and i saw fevers in the park gittering for corndolls; O, my blind bed rests in the heart when
silencers of starving voices shout for a mantrum
where women weave a dun asylum inside breaded boys who shoot false guns. la la la, a bayer of bionics brag for saucy lead whence old drums
shoot a slashy blind sickle into the
naughty sides of a kettle-sun and a boat of glass suppers after dirt, death, sex and old lungs.
Arrowers shoot swines to sleep as a dogger of the dead thrums. la la, heaping
hooty wanky heat hardens flowers when chicken crackle as they nuke after eggy wanky hooty huge hymen women
and a sailor in a deep eyed pan broils doodly dirt for baked lungs
and weepers sup grey tea-seep from kitchen wagons; and lichen pisses inside the Void. O, a darter of an arrow-capon cums
deeply down aside a puddy puddler boy whose face sea-strums
sky-laid polticed patina cunt-cushions; and wideners eat Mum?
draggling dippy mongrel baby suns shine upon wed cuppas; O, we lunge after lunches as we bombard teas with snake-mucklers;
and an ideal sloane sucks upon star-cars; and a garden grubbler
sperm-knots a naughty knife bird with sodden stainy salt-slivers and an opal hour hits along gapped gas and a
spined sold tigger sun-staples bodiers of blown crapped ass to a faking sex-field.
of native naked car-oil swirls a pinnny fanny cowl and, lapped from mouth, a nudy of a girl swims aside de loud and, suckled from drought, a demon of this world has to crowd
pissers pushers with pled fished nets. O, laden towels become lard-large with renal dregs and salmon-shaken sex-owls and a patent pisser pricks venal pegs with outelbowelled clouds
and a star-spread larder dons donkey foods as a bell of shrouds enhearses cavvy voices with milkers of cakey piss-pronounced
honeyers of wanky hooty hanky swanky swanners
when silenced by diners, i saw a swarthy cummer in the dark gathering up lemon bees
from de Beast; and i cut fingery sharks with prodded buller sand which trickles from treacled boy-tarts;
and easers of pealing watch-strands bubble across sugar-sparks and, la
la, a donuy of a cock-cram clappers vinegar inside Arks;and, lo lo, a hummy hitler-ham handles nancies with brown-arts
and we weedle under sticker-scram with pokers of bell-barks
Arrowers of natal navel-nubs rub paladin with forcing farts O marrowers of fatal cradle-clubs rub aladdin
with love-carts and a mower on its sensual side widens under lippered hearts
La La La. Weeders of yellow weirs wire secret signal marts with a lazy loony wanky shanky shandy
sucrose mammy-marks and i hastened to a public loo when devouring hissy skid-marks
thesand, oo, i am assured that sin will eat its fish-n-chips in masks and wiveners of soap
wode eats doners in a naked opened loo.
tidal sparrows die for meadows and a shriller of a night-nude ennooses eaty Ides from shadowed bone-bridlers of screws and these gassing
grabbed days of petalled sad science
sink a pulled testtube into sound; and salt-defiance swipes eggs from phlegem as radiotic pinchers suck madam moon with slayed ghosts and
o, flashers of red blooms flicker for lost torn flowers and a boney buddy tower falls down for iced minks and these gassing days of petalled sad mind-compliance shrink
into braids; and melters within fast forced towers
stopper a city clime with naked sugared eye-fakirs; and eaters of holy forgotten Israel star-drinks to a donny daddy coves
where mad men died for layers
these gassing graspeed nights splosh closed fevers: oh, easy pissing clown-kites fly, fly, fly; and rivers raise a mamam moon with craned eyes;
and riders rope a rama of a nude hand under spied easy lovers,
and we rape sad sexed aromas as we ride for fates and, o, we arise from dinks as a shrinker under lakes.
these easy eastend headboards bulge after kidders and a dunny cart cries and cries; O, aged millers net a nest of a mind with spines; and we raid snakes and eaters of holy verboten sidlers
ride under bakes.
gassy gutted days lead glued glass to easy rakes
these gassing gutterers
of pealed pecks use pepper. oh, a lady of a gay fluterrer seal necks under lepers and, la la, eyelids turn where blind iron-ons papers easterly arising ferns with twinned owls; and fevers
fan a fannied phalanx of feloners and deadly drapers.
these gassers of ground minds rip from greyed grits and a phantom sea-sound drags waves across lit lips and, ah
ah, we stride birdy bays as we loosen pips and we cry, cry,cry as we study about heaven's slit
o gassing gutterers of pearled pommy netted flavas
a dunny beard with pulled lamps and madam fazers.
these darksome devillers of greyed clothes strip a ramrose: o, endless gruddy
fevers feather after sweats when crows star-crowd easy fingers with sleepers; and radioed clothes
crap down the leg as a skirt inside rivers raids cunted logues and eyes burn,
burn and silly spies who peer under droves.
these darksome revellers of glazed clothes strip a gold road and, ah, we must come to pieces. O, fitters of fishers code greying
dives with westended fleeces; and mad boys close
easers of eagle-light into gay exegesis; and we heat hosed blinded bytes of day and night and impossible afternoons.
these darksome cunny-criers who weep fanny fires must crashdown upon biter's spires; and a lumninous face must turn a petrolled peppered face to the enemy; and lust must
popper after sofas; and weepers weep for silkies when trust
trackles into blonde-bedded keepers. Ah, in death,
these gassy gutterers of giddy heat wash hands in lard; ohh, when odd
sad sailors grind sleep, a cosher of a car cries as she drives; and a mind of meat crushes cards
and, lo lo, where we ride from rest then we heed death and, ho ho, where we ride
from sex then we heap death and a mind of glass snappers after micks as sirens
swerve under crazy sea-men. O, a danced alarm decks dippy dangerous eggs; and we arise from armed
kecks and a popper of sinal motors picks a pickler under fast lip
and i see your molars move but i cannot hear them grit, and me and father summers suck along grey cabinets.
and me and madam winters cut songs from rode necks
these gassy gutterers of giddy meats slice old hams
and a growler of a digital video ravels out into Cannes; and a pool of piegeon tears sheds wept salts for jams
and idiot criers cry all year as massive faults sun-slam neon nurturers
of tall fear; and pushers of parties pan balded eateries with fallers. O, a pisser under old flans
swells up on a churchy cakey stall where cut wrecks fossilise jeezy christs
with money found in god's grip and we storm the holy dead with tawny fevers.
rips sallow into family bread and familial freakers must hit adown in deafening blind towns where
killers suck pits
a poppy of a fierce doll moon-raises minds from men: O, droppy golden
gall glances aside stasis as mod pens sky-write phantom words into a cradler's easy diadem
and a fascinated moll has no father gangster; O, gems raid a slayer's razor from gold
as daddy moon sea-sends
dragoners of fazer thumbs with mouths of pure fire and a popper of sinal motors picks a pickler's funeral pyre nights deep where ticked tablets under
ticklers feed spires,
and we must rise just like a spire when dizzy dun women cloud-send a neural sentry to nude towns where tyres extend a burner of a bunny under cleavers of
we have to hiss across sperm-kissies and iced bitumens swine after a sorbet screen where candler under bins body a speculum of a sexy spectacle; and coded limbs
swing, swing, swing high up from a spastic factory and a poppy of a fierce doll moon-raises jives from families and a winder of sidled skulls hips for jazz.
Ah, ald baby bullers after soft brocades when a widener of a melody
sits astride lemon pits when musical dirtiers used de Lady
there are fatal
focal forcing voices which speak inside the dark.. Lo there are natal naked voces which squeak inside a closed park: la la, as widows roll then a giddy butter boat
sex-mark a danny daddy crowd whose massing grave grips to a bell-cask,and a benny bowed bone breaksdown; and funeral fingers car-mask
dizzy doctorors with medical stone. Ah,
a bridal crown cuts masts, and, la la, a goddess of venereals combs cunt-hair with hot clasps.
there are fatal focal coarsing horses that neigh inside the pitch dark. Lo here
there are natal crooked hearses that pray inside a cold heart, and we weevil under cabinet code and
we snap a blind bone across a pickler of a panny pled hooty pussy. Ah, bridal
clowns cut de Cross; and we slave for lenny as we rip a radio razor from a loud lady Loss.
poppy of a fierce doll moon-raises jives from enemies. Uh, casts don a dirty caste of a mind as evil slaving shadow kills the vast past; and a boat of barks dog-dams eagled ceilings
cell-found in the past, and eyes sunder sky when a cooper of a cunny crap carries moss with gold stones shaved from lime ochres; O, a starry signal kiosk
reels from swelled
cellphones and i use cellophane to sell my tossed twinkerers of cummy crones and vagrant windowpanes; Ah Ah Ah
bullers after soft brocades bind bones to guns; O, liquid evenings
star-shape shaven skulls with blind suns where deafening rings spin just like a blued bottle on a sexy hanky feely teeny party; and gins
swim, swim, swim; and, as we reap bunny,
then we tweak old pins
the wispy hisser of a mind-chart piss in the deeps where coded
sins serenade a lunar sister with mind-hearts whose parental filmed skin softens a solar soul with sofa men and diners whose bodying winds
ripens into a racist evil flower; and
chokers of cherries berry-bind a goddy of a gold grande with pianos that play inside love's spine, and a clavicle of a collared tomorrow hastens to lies when vines
squash a veiny
penile vineyard snail. O, a roundalay of a mad whine shrills after painters of palmistics and the devil found under times, and we radio a rodeo with transparent clogs when a man of mines
mines for a heart of pure cold. Ah Ah. Fishermen of mermen grind chimney-pot bone with skeletal blue jams; and an idol in a dirt mind melds heroic faces with fingerers of fondant female bins; amd signs
shaft after dunny cycles that breakdown into a bad bed of bread-bines and we smoke crafty woodbines with fast hands that eat odd grimed baby-bunters of bad sea-rafts and doggy catted dun dementia. Rinds
grind salt teeth with sullen gum; and baiters of bad bummers blind bonny hands with easy sirens of morning, evening, and all dead days and we hasten to spilling hissers as we suffer a cruel snared
once upon a deadened viola, a meadower of crabbins shot rex-dust and eaters of curded
motors shatter a soft stem across grey lust and, oh oh, a latent penis expounder digs eggers inside sweet pus
and we die aside swelly fanny sarnies and we cry after city-mush
and, la la la, a digger of a dickory donkey bride heeds hot hush
flavourers found in eager
wedding wounds peer into a candle?
the candiers of curtive sleep set alight to
veined boys when aspen riders of native heat slammer a wife of a mental wind and falconers of natal body sleep writhes on a slitted gem
and a dogger of dazzlers drinks to a spastic
rub when zen zips under magis who swing for a cowed king of babel-men, and we leap aside screws when a gossamer of easy mirrors
swell up for candiers of fetid wheat; and we rise
aside grinders and we snip against smaltz as a boner of a sex-telephone quivers.
the candlers of curtal noon lease dreams to constant sleepers la la, a cavern in the side of
the wet moon caves beneath milners, will tease all men with bottlers of bunny beer; and maled seizures
don a fitter of a fast head with epileptic geezer tears; and mixers minge
after ginger flowers which shed dry seed inside bot-fingers.
the candiers of fatal sleep set alight to veiled girl-toys when ash loosens baby bollocks around a wept wet-world;
and mad stab-mash meddles with blue flowers and a winded sperm-screen will dash
idioms of fishy friends of booming fields and pussies under cash; and me and menstrual zippers
zip to a kiddy heap; O, cold mass draws a dickory of a penned hip which cracks beneath gay gas.
candlers of crazy meat jacks to veined sleet and grey hash sets a dolly to a grained sea-sac; and menfolk slide under trash and mental malingerers on their back bury boats with grey grass
when once we learn of Aaron then fled faces in shippen masks don assaulters of sonny brides and beaten canny cupper-casks
what with tablets under crocuses, i espy a new life where gold oils will certainly pour from lotuses; and, la, my head jacks a net and
my dolly dreamer of fled horses has to jive for mental sex-wet
and, lo, as eyes drive to deafening blinding sleep, a rose under coils crashes aside fanny thighs when stripping
sweat-streets cap death. la la, what with tablers under focal neurosis, i espy a dead christ
tapering solder-fliers with bended fast mind-sky; and modern mice body-brain a biter
of sickler with ratted tides and gearing lights and a giddy gaoler of a prickler's pegs pushes pissers under dykes
what with tablets under focuses, gods may well hiss across
trikes and we overburn after tortoises as we carapace after rap-mikes and a donny belle grabs after sea-offices which glister under tykes
ah ah, a kneller in a cab casts shadow
crabs across the evil lights and we skin-scathe serial masks with crappers whose holy rites wipe dettol-knickers across a mod-maze where bakered bud-bytes
seal searers of plum-snickers
from faloned fans that drop from sight
a petaller of a swift monkey pierces plebs with cornona kong-spikes and a ginger gaol that star-locks prisoners with filthy god-mites
and i have eased my model mummy with painted handlers. O, ice
sharpens shriveners of vagina when a penny of a cock-stain types tawny toady tears from rotated wheat-wrens; and
odes to pikes urinate on opened fields where cavern-crakes kiss my eyes with
dummy bone; and me and milky sea-cakes piss upon a kid's ribs
O, when once a waterer of blaming bunnies booms for canines then a vampy shampy void where piggers peek will cup tinnies and a brawler of a bled boy boozes up for pepper as drammies
doctor daughter-rot with dizziers of dolters and paper mummies and, triped, a fanny of a riverer wraps snaplets inside old dummies and a caved cancer-whistle rodders after scraplets of fast gobs
and utterers of dancer-thistle radars after nipplets and hard grub.
what with tablets under crocuses, i espy
my new life when coils crap against five hot smiles; and a family knife will slice goyles and, o, i grasp to a golly grit when latrinates flesh aside wet-foils
and a daddler
of a dog-deck drools for fish in a bowl of blue-toil ahahh, a codicil about willed mules rocks a horsehead's moiled bedder of bled blaggers and pine-blinded radioed babied bled boils
la la la. I have heard at death of day a bruiser of a body's soils lighting petrol lightning with rods of pee-clay and cunted drug.
and blenched blorters sea-bang a pursed
pan with cooky clugs.
lispid liquid hair scar-snares a daffodil of darkness with bugs...oh, hispid liquid air car-scares a dazzler of nakedness with mugs and an egit in a fained
rose rams a diggery damsel around blood
and weevillers of night and day toast a fat carp with bum-mud
Evil radio wives eat into jazzed lies. Easels paint baskets...
this day i do not own has come to mean a wake of fathers.,- o, as a true dream drops a mind-bomb then this dizzy day where i chose to scream
knots a daddy gun. awakened, a bitter stalk cuts my mouth ,& a buried break where i went south
shuts a closed world..this day
i do not own has come to seem elderly too damned early as a bouncy gang robs a baby, cream
collapses into girls
half of the dud time i use a pen. Pearls sunder dogs & kissed curls.
hidden sauce of the sprayed huddles directly under samphires. oh, a bitten horse leaps a pony & cradles rot for Madam Sapphires
& i may well look inside my eyes when
hot blondies shit.
when once we heard blue trades, lips puckered for the ripped: ah, once above a rhyme, we used us then blonded buddies who stripped
painted heads from dust
dies for fever..
the hidden sauce of the scathed cuddles dogs & ferine missionaries,.
when we walked in time, we used rolled limbs & catfoods. oh, we climb when wine drinks screwed
slain sirens & rolled nudes
once above a drive, a sad car moved blued collisions with hard huge-mouthed thefts...
this side of a caved cage, old dudes cram a tangy tongue inside roller sex-gold..the time has come to run from old caverns
& a bed of ice heeds
the cold & we are young yet old.
i raced down to a dream where i cut my father's cloud: oh, as old towns stopped, then prayer came up for pure air
& a den of christs shares hairs & we make up crowds.
blue crows carry cavvies where idioms of idiots ram a soft share of
hands & fat fingers; &, lo, a mental killer seizes us
& i raced down to a dark
lair: ohh, a bonce of sound hit a shied claw as a wasteground halts....
this side of Easter, Xmas vaults will sell gifts to lost dolts.
i recollect why gold died, o, an eaten ring
dons the chains of the spind
o, a wind of christs has my mental swim
dreaming of dogdayed spun
& a bay of kids sweats for
riled sad souls
.. Do kids have soul-cancer?
o do we have to price
five hills of piss push a pealed father
under plums & soft bananas
o a hard rills cut a drowned... Lovers
lead tears of pushy pled killers..
& i recall now just why gold died and, once above a timed bone, we spied cars & cunts acid.
the dizzy teller girl i wished
to grab has married to the moon: oh, a giddy daddy fazes under crap & this side of poems has a room
where, smashed, beds of gloo pull faces at the mad.
when once a cellar girl sex-stabs
dirty gems then a banged cock-crag
has a dried taste in the mouth
& we will wash our hands where
lardy strippers sock a bad heir.
& dizzy pox-girls hiss where cabs
ply hire from
- ah- deacon in a drum sun-tabs
a lunar beach bum
& heated sand-perms cunt-crag
odes to dilly cum.
a vast mental moggy cats a gun
i wish Amen to loss as roads
end in mirrors.
i encroach aside a lopped mind, Oh, i star-soak of a smelly wife has old toads dammed by dizzy labile lobe-heat
& cracklers under sleep suck toads
& a bench of meat blade-blanches buds of rolled souls. romantic raisins snap stalled wheat. oh, seated summers shop frayed winters,
sop a greasy father of grey tellers: a blancher of a bed-boom bags cold geekers of mailing porn-crags & a ball in a bloom
buttons beaters under the moon,
o i reproach on lues as canaries shoot a kingdom dead...cannaries create tinned flowers, & a
bast of blood brags hours,
& an owler heeds rude silence?
the sorted sadness of sued softness bedazzles us; & we play dead?
when a coppice grate grips to grey stone then a bud of ice
reiterates a gilly drome. lahh, a baby under christa hits a king-sloane & a bast of lice
laps a cocked meat-heart
o a doggy hour walks the dead when atomic leeches sleep under wine &, sun-spread, a dolly paper-mind
exposes habits to farts..i will sympathise with hissed ice..ah, i will centre death where cold brines bodies a penis-flower
& we say
Amen to drunken dice & we play for utmost power?
when a coppice cape cups a grey groan then a wedded grave has male-masted venal-trades... bone backs a bed horse o, a sea
of force flashes for gal-gloam
& a starry slice feeds vanillas to a jack-knifed mid-wife...
burn to death when a dilly life goes too blind for words & we are burned bully birds...
the icer of a silk-cake has bakers for blind sugar gas: ooo, the recipes of a dreamt
cake stores bled bunneries under glass
when once a rabbit dies alone for vegetable razors & a the open jay-talking corridors then a bed of rice heaps murder napalm at the
imbeciles of rain & christ...
the icer of a sperm-cake has stored belicose raisins
under grass.. ooo, once inside a minx-mind, we hear words crying for the cars of the promiscuous past?
inedible ermine dons a meat-scarf & the risings of an oven-burned
hearth will spatter cold inside this broiled world of scarred
i am ascending
up a queasy stair where my velvet attic succours fear & the desolates i shape from tears
will enter into dark drinks...
once above a time, a dragger dons a netted hat & heeds splattered mole-dug mouse-kinks?
next week, i'll be atoned by suns.
as i weave my eager body up low stairs i entertain a vision of a boy- this boy is me when gone? O, stairs lead to meagreness as self-joys
lam me aside my funeral..as i weave a ladder, then i sew hair to an edifice of academics... Air comes in from outdoor & fear laces lays with funereal tears
-the last i knew of my dead heirs was about a sodden kid who grew down in the colour True.
crows may welll wed blackbirds oo, crowds mighrt as well deserve scalded hills
where night-men move rolled eyes to soft weeping
& the backs of the lost are sleeping..
easy shadowers fawn to killing
then a rose of meadowers
will storm a mouth of spit-fillings
& a downy dodgy beard of nerves
wags under hosy lady lid-flava...
as the crows of my life loosen
nipped tails & baggaged patients
then we will surely supper after
noosed teeth & evil mouth-laughter...
when stifled by communal laughter, gold men suck a bread buudy tree: o, as a keen raised cry weeps, then leas lay blood-waste to brothered fly-sleevers
& a bine of god lights a fastened bee-belling wasp-weaving blue-murdered cunnt-missions & a drinking fleece falls from prisms: o, a drawn board sinks legs into cunt:
o, when once a pissy pussy jumps girl-spunk then a stifled commander of old men
sinks a shit...ah i will suck a cut as bad strings
cut outelbowed piano-rainbows.. o those stupid flowers i used to call my own have stopped growing now
o- a blonde on a reel rams after pruned bones & eyes will outgrab?
once aside a lover, i searched for apples but ound nothing... waves under ideal faces flash for killlings & a wife of wine drinks till led inside a rapists calamines? oo
these stupid flowers i used to stone don hired concrete trees. as i serenade a blithe bad father, i abuse silver blood-skies & i wonder just why a beating noose will hang wives
when once a bed of fayre shoots truth then we will disable truth?
as i erect a baby's bounce, then eyes deck a snow-lidded grave of meat & flowers..when once a bed of hair trampled whores & rivers then a blithe spread of care
fed disabilities to secured rooms & warded killers lay down till gone..
consented nunneries leap a bibled bonce of monkeries. o, a bill
of beer strikes old rivals & we pray for families & once above time, we see idols staring into cryptic clit-gems.. o, grain
shoots tips & we have no veins?
consented bad bodies heap us a sea of papers & a crab of card pinches puss-pus & a mean leper loosens bends where old dust
drippers of maddened seed spatter deaths with dreamed dogdayed feathers, o, a snipper of saddened need scatters deaths with cream.
.when once a hand of light heeds man-jeering dreams then we sail under deadeners. o, as we fuck into sadness then blamed bottle-bodies will
killers of slitter men sap men & a ribbon of pittas hear men sinking kebabs by the hour & rippers of maddeners
seize urban defectives
& we bang a bullied seat when dying doled detectives
cup old breasts?
i espy a mucky moonrise - La,
tonight appears to star-strive
after a baby in a stilled disguise..
we pirouhette under a mean scried mind: o, a star of father uses a hot rider to razzle a mama & we purse our body-beats where cosy caverners cry, cry
once a cell of castes writhes, then golden guiltiness cuddles old gemmed catters of space & whined
i used a fast foal for a city's folds ah- when once we scarry into coal then we will burn lost stars? Lahh.. we pirouehette under greedy calves
& impossible wiped baths bang a rammed massed mental barge & we are mothed by mottlers
the canes in a cliff craps for Leda
o this zeus-swan we snap hits Mother
& where Isis dies
then Osiris will don dives-
Old words are sad
cold words are bad
dead Triton uses porn.
the swinging eaten hands of the dead & gone swipe a seas-horn from riders under porn as we tape a diddy shut then our green grit of mutts hears bard
using a dead latrine.
o a gear of grease grannies for a dreamed
moon-fountain of bees & baby careens...
hot aside our scythed roads, we screen odd bodies for shitter zen ,. blown blabbed baby
bends break- & the sides of the sent scatter neat vibes where doctored pins
pierce a dulled dog...
all streets of easy gals grope for pounded pussies whose stilled score swings to a disco's proud shouted shooting bound blood-heat
& a waller of the dizzy young reaps
veiny scars where strong beers beat honey meat? o, the swing of rolled rams cut a gunned nylon city cage
& a feline shimmy of boys who cum from a darkening town-age clap
sex-crap when a wifeless rage raises soaps from dashes
we ring a tree of air - La, we strum
& bald men on strung plates punt
for cunt rivers...
the desolated faiths of the star-forbidden sun opens third pages under plated mons-pates .o- a fiscal cock-case cards a prawny
gun & a bed of fists
laps a cunt-divan..
where once a fucking forcep crags cut-headed
vulcan from dizzy drags then once aside a city-husk a bay of plastered nips heave a siren's
the sad times we sat at the back of a baby church whose face seemed to afar have come now to recognise that true sex-paint will never see lies
eggs on roped wives.
these desolates whose eating cold cum straps grease across old dark
radio are lent now to golden sound-hung politic croony baby pictures....
once inside a mind, where sex moved, we fucked forced crap & a ditto under tit-saps signs removed
rovers of giddy jewelry- O, slow nudes
hammer docks where fasts
starve sin half to death?
desolated ivories play for god's ebonies
Where once when i spat at livid living gold, i summoned up a liquid prayer - o that prayer for old bred sea-hair saw my soul sacked within guilty golden air and
i resume a mental arse where my soul ascends a spastic stairway to the rolled schisms of swift sweats & cold tears; o my mind has litanies
o my spirit criws
where once when i shat at a sea-storm then i sailed for buttered cities..o, my bed of grass is laid & the bodies looms down my skull's red chimney...
once a deadener fucks a shroud then crooked eggers will feel for miction & a bulb of lights turns down viscous nights where I
studied for murdered tights...
huge whore-factories cut a sad eye
as for a storm in a d-cup, may hot hens cry
o as for a stone in a c-cup, may hot helens die.. once upon a mind in a scissor city, we shaved clean for keen petrols & the enemtic
baby who scored
squired milky gems.
& a bulb of mice hits a rat-trashed sky & the
honey-hosts of death raise a sea-dram. - as we choke on cherry, then old hands ram down the female sherry..
o as for a fawn in a float, milky berries drag a titty brethren for
a far-out ferried foal of flint & ash...
o i eat a candle when a prisoned flash loops the hoot around a blinded lady &, as heapers shoot grounds, then baby will flee
from the towns & carry mash
underneath forbidden friends?
hi-hey-ho, where once sin groans
may winnowers of a dead-hand foam
at widowers & broken hearths...
the dilly of the dazed
is born from lilly whites & yolky roods Ah, cum slakes a bed-thirst,
& the bees of ash sting a dun gun's
oo as for a swarm in an egg-cup may caged blued nippies
suck a nut's vaginal complicity... bitter of mouth, a citric tongue has a wasted taste of blood & barley sugar-
o, a whip of drouth cuts cunt-cash & a bone of bullies
bends a bed under
when once a sainted heart hears budders biding bedded porn-times
then a sedge of thieves has a mad lover laden with raven features.
& a pushing pealer pits a cat-cake deeply down where ratted skippers slipper salt hairs...
once upon a fart, we fastened us under vaginal spoons
& a blade of bunk bled sea-dusts....
a butter-kisser crams a sleepy tongue days deep where old clams sup a keen pippy labile sea-ram; o a sea of mess mittens dead dung & love pees on rolled sandals
..where once a bled boner sea-guns statues of prawns then a city of thorns dons a capped diagram of yeast & pepper
gleam for gas as doll-cats
carry a hammer far sex-West
& we wallop of sugar rats ... Oh
once upon a wife in a lashed oat
we nurtured skirt
& a bed of wide wine has hurt
drinking a clayed sea. and we are at the bodies.
604. 4a re. prose-poetry in response to the poetry of Philip Larkin
But if one night she brings as, as she yearns, the secret of the photograph to learn, she, as all others, should be singed by purses, hearses, acritudes of spring, or
day-light's ecstasies, wrought beneath a slit as any photostat may shake love by the hand, or ravel down the shrillness of a torn trip
from grande guignols into the forgotten
Here is the staff, the massive music of the dawn; the secret bringing pleasancies to hear, how water burns, how blind rivers pass and yawn,
the ideal atom of a closing year - who tinkles in to mind-palaces unsaved must stop at these intimate exposures, or else play dead:
here the screens of memory are graved, as cold as mental earth knocked inside the head...
Proud and professional, these beds thread proud blooms of mystery, give back a long,
lingering orb to every schizoid smile. Bright, glossy, fay, charms on their backs,
they come to rest on every ward: all streeted slab minds are visited.
The nurses strewn midst warts and brogues or children running from the trees past cells and wimpled swingers seize each wild and whitened face that tops
each champing blanket; momently, as madness matters swathe and marry:
And sense now the rolling scentedness that cries beneath all dreams made blue, and for
a second greet the high soul, so healthful, mad and fucking true.
The patient wards conceive. 'My, My' they whisper at their own dismay.
For formed away in some deep wound may flow the insane yell of lust round lonely living so near death's end, and what was revered in its dead crust
amongst blind tears, the wrangled rend of familial mummy dadas, there
At last time starts to heighten. Far from the constraints of christs that lie unreachable
inside life's tombs the doctors fart and let sex fry through closer things than what has come,
and thrill to mind-mess all men are?
We cannot hear the sleep of words Under the seas, under the flowers, under the tides of out lots And the bustling over sheets in skies depleting Or our infinite whispers unheard. How
Inevitable silence whisks us is the tune That, like the spires of monks, grows tired with the trends And, dreaming about the text,
into the fire. Words Are as remote as the stars and their staring dawn, As perceived as God. Does This quiet sleep of words hide schemes, hide fears?
Does the last lash of the
wind and the failing wing Outwardly spiel an end? Let us listen, Open the mind and listen For a sigh, a sign
Of speaking unadorned. There is No cry, there is only The one weathered
night whose wakefulness stings and
Hoots the Word over and over
Until the speaking dies.
hurrying to snap the tablet one bad and maddened day, which soon would snap me from it to the hospital's
decay, i worked on wards of missives
not seven months since birds had seized my working pittance through the shivers of their spurs.
Voices, vast and volatile,
had sealed my poem's fate,
not till i was freed awhile
did is set down this idle slate -
this day when dean and doctor
and branded, bladdered souls
all acted on their splinters
and healed me with a call.
It used to me make me merry,
ravished cursory flames:
ah! when will time unbury
this soaring mental game?
- but i complete my poem,
and sidle off down the wards
to greet the psychos roaming,
my one and only forge.
605. 41 B Choice of Youth (after Philip Larkin)?
Choice of thought shuts up that doctor's hand
The medics held, in which the mental spread All that confusion and the mad man can..laughless potential! But here contained
Only so long as time concedes us laughing; Simply
to lose slopped all ways but round, And sent the maddened, whorling way contracting,
No sadness now. I and I now, stoned..
Hence for my race I must retain all races, For your shrift baggage, barter and be rich In other baggages; the mask-man's brood..Now you malign my madness and what truths
Remain where glibness cuts the sensate down And collars each and every manic word; Another way to suffer is to drown,
To risk the final floating of
The mind can hardly pick them out From the cold wound they swelter in, Till the wind distresses veil and vein; One chops grass, one moves in doubt
-The Mother soothes their modesty - And then the bridal brain.
Yet thirty years ago, or more, Two cousins in
their dirt sufficed To cradle gems in vaunted peace And instant, endless love, Whereby the truth was made and sold
On instant hoof and instant road But for the root of lust and
This was the wedded raging end.
But it must be a plague to youth So vast, so wide in
life and light, (Silk at first, then sadly made, This sovereign fate is all too crude).
But could it be, in just ten years time, The curt perversion of the mind Shall suckle
on two eyes that speak
And trickle down and down
we'll see next week?
The madness mumbles away- It is the same old madness as ever. Only a mad thing leaps from my head - A mad bubonic
cat - As I call to the maddening sun
For another glass of beer. Mad cat, they would stroke you if they knew Of these eccentric polities. Now you have brushed this foaming brain
You will do the same to the mind - Soon, no doubt, if it be allowed, You shall cross the clouds and cry. It seems you maniacally grin as you cast
Those mad eyes on haughty limbs; Less chanced by life than changed, You bear your fangs to the dawn. Sprawled on the bowels of the brain,
These mindless fields of glass. What do you see in my eyes As these lines of floaming flame Are hurled through arctic herons? What quiver, what heath so vast
your poppied fur to the veins? Or drops, and keeps on dropping, As this sad, bad madness flows, Flows and ferments tar? Is
It just a little while to the left
That you wield your tail and fly; or
Is the kiss on maddened mouths
Your only eerie space? Now,
This I ask, as you, defaced,
on the fires and close.
How lovely is the girl, who cannot look Upon her rapid days without a smile, Who kisses all the leaves of her life's book, and rides along her fairest
How lovely is the girl, who shall not wane In any rapid place but hers alone, Who risks her all for times in places skeined With curtsies, caring, pompidores and
But should the lovely girl lose her calmed way, Now parry, then extend her rhymes to wrong, Or bury her blonde head in rhyme's decay,
I shall be there to charge her with my song,-
The girl who suffers must beget a name..
May she who suffers most be set aflame?
I looked down at the foaming and cortal shards Once meant for thinking. Lithiums lay thick But sent no light back from my guard, Slunk as it was in mists and
Slain sites and wired mistakes climbed up Past tombs, still gurning amidst corrective rites: I thought: 'I am mad, i am wrought in long nights.'
Misconception: for my bones slept, and my wrists Swaggered up their hands, absolving and touched, And hung like a staved death; the mind burnt on,
A thin point of incitement; beneath its shards, The pallorless dial of day flamingly spilled My virtual world into the actual, my mad bad world
Like a dropping tear, slammed
at my heels again, Entombing my schizophrenic clutch. Turning, I wished for Another time so easy, for a further happy time
But, rendered pivoting, Buttoned as a coat on a mindless
girl, How could madness save me? Into its space My mindscapes meet and lock and race like rivers,
But never never choose. Am I then jealous of it? Will I forever confuse its
rumours and ends With sanity, with sane things? This important life
Is at once part invalid, part rebel, part saint:
O, madness is purely ethereal..
One wants the choice where To build, to
select prayer; One asks the poise of air When, faulted, towns turn Dreary, filled with fear
And one’s girl’s a dolt.
Having missed the skies Bound, contained, lies Call on an uncalled day For personages spurned Scruffy or else stayed
et wisdom creeps more.
Your person, your place,
Thinks on midnight spaced
By ways of blinking, traced
By mashing mindlessness;
With slick sickles borne
Above a vein of fact.
I thought i would pass through time: a sense that, against the town, something more than night would yield our sharing spirits underground
More, the supposition was better than any life fitted round the shrilled and bitter,
it meant more than Christ?
But now, what do i feel? The pitted straits of time gone by? Perhaps, something so strange that nothing will reply to exactly how our lives
round the lies so strong, bitten, taken down
like some antique, cold song?
Whatever, i am
keen to learn out spirits' names Having grown in church and state, I know that life remains precisely how night left it
written down as strife goes on,
patterned, spited, smitten
as welled and dun as history's sun
are good men gunned?
606. re. poesy because of genus genius phil larkin
Item, an animal, and how it changes shape, Now a slick leopard, then a white air
Of tigress, ape or lemur. The forms won't take One simple pattern for long. Item, the crow
And then the simple blackbird, gathering up Hunted petals. Item, a demesne of guns
Hotly presented to a potted face, A shaft of holly leaves, darkness begun
And flapped astray. Item, motors without grace, Churning the fair aside. Item, the bones
Of reservations, now Plot One, Plot Two Purveyed by engineers. The hunters are half-conscious of their Deeds And cackle. Signs are made, sometimes honed,
And then the silent Blue?
I do not think I was switched at the hospice As an instinct. No, There my bed went on In endless tramelling
down and On into the Mind. So
I cannot say my bed was worth it. No, I must reveal that I Was altogether caught in transits Of some long luminary phase. Where The bed moved, I
grasped a flower
And locked it to me. Like some spread Saint of petals, I was lost In true volition, like a bough. Then,
The matron spoke, said words That could not be heard in the ear, like 'Suffrage', 'Marvel' and 'Sphere'. So, I Met my bed full on, made signs Of snickers and snippets at one with me;
Rode and styled my sheets into
An open fire, and lay Full naked on the flames, alone
With reading lamp and stony book, steamed
To the riled corpus of my bone, spread
Like a monkey cruise..
The poolroom sheds are empty now And locked the
drinking door, The tallowed dregs are rimmed with rust Where, slow across the moor, A warden creeps behind the bare
Till the moon repines no more.
What major made his standard here? What sergeant served his friends? What parson took a beer of fears One day one Sunday's end?
played this long piano That leans against the wall?
Who was it left the meadows
To drink above
Ah, drunk days are taken down, And snoring vagrants stayed, And police-girls grow tomorrow From the tipsies of today, And even public crawls can fade,
Swan Inns grown pubic grey:
But for the rush of morning truths,
No kiss remains but graves.
I know the site of that hidden mind It is sidling and empty, a farcical bent Sliding up the clock. I ride minds behind
The towers, the towering wheel and flowers
Dropped in a vase of the heroine's smile.
illusion is not cowed. Aligning my head, the skies, the one Bay of the evening chorus, above The serviette of gears I make my single
Shimmering of hand into hand. The Sun moves
below the eye, a Beautiful rivering
Of a beautiful consternation.
Resentful of the world,
the underglassed Tauntening of jade, the mind Tightens its grip on the reprobate And moves sloanes out to sea. Most beautiful is the singlet, the
Wondrous land of films and spheres;
Next, the spider spinning
Its gossamer voyage of praise.
The eye is unperfected; lies
Days deep beneath the dial. I
my girl, yet here the sense
is no-one's, nobody's, vile.
607. £..999. great prosody because of p larkin's great poems
as i weave my eager body up low stairs i entertain a vision of a boy- this boy is me when gone? O, stairs lead to meagreness as self-joys
aside my personal funeral.
as i weave a ladder, then i sew hair to an edifice of academics... Air comes in from outdoors & seers laces lays with funereal tears
-the last i knew of my dead heirs was about a sodden kid who grew down in the colour True.
well wed blackbirds oo, crowds might as well deserve scalded hills where night-men move rolled eyes to soft weeping
& the backs of the lost are sleeping?
as easy shadowers fawn to killing then a rose of meadowers must storm a mouth of spit-fillings & a downy dodgy beard of nerves
wags under hosy lady lid-flava...
as the crowds of my grey life loosen nipped tails & baggaged patients then we will surely supper after noosed teeth
& evil mouth-laughter.
At noon, there is a tremor; birds Cease singing as the sun stirs A heat-haze from the dimmed Moon. Men cry at the pit-head.
Brothers, sisters, children, bent On scarring from a sound. The explosion of life defined By the madness of love's
against the Shores of a sea that meets The darkness of a smoothed Pebble, smashed into the Teeth of the void, constrained
Inside the fences of death's Cornucopia. In the clouds
Life creeps into salience.
Unborn. The pit-head burns. A heat-haze redoubles and The silence of thought cracks The bones of a mind brought
Queasily into the beaches of The muteness formed from Lips pared back by these Words, refined to change.
Penitent, the children
gaze Out at a strangled town. Innocence lies bastardised By eggs, broken in the
Hands of a spade-cock, cut up
Where its hands weep.
The pit-head is permafrozen.
Lust weeps from its hot
The villagers are opened?
'It has to be said that you were young tonight - that amphetamine
a stutter you invoked was like No other nearby to reference,
And I was cross to sense it happen; Desperate to neck, to clock your age again You were so young that I hated you:
Hated you as a mother might hate her son Bathing as a man. I wanted you back. Although you'd never leave me, you had gone.
It has to be said that you were young
And now the circus of alone has returned to us, You are dissolving properly; out there and marauding Right through,
with the veined
And bicycled whispers of waning. Now that The purpose of reserve and conservation has discerned
Out togetherness again, I shall turn to you and say,
'Sweetie, you're looking old, Sweetie, we both are.'
Though the chrome taps ahead shall tell me whose stunned
Forehead has the kindest cut'...
I could spend most of my times Laughing at the shattered lies Of life; but living bears A strangeness man may never
Share. The softness of love
Aims to slumber where sex Denotes no dreams, and time Lives for its own self-gain.
My home has no facade To own. The quietus made By the colours of razed Light bricks in the
Boiling of discontented lusts. I could spend all of my times Guffawing at the tamed Trips of pitied women.
Windmills trip inside The minds of the sullen Solemnity of the dawn.
The softness of love
Aims to slumber as sex
Ignites the dance of death.
Awaiting veins, this soul
Trips the floor then dies.
608 5Y RECUSANCY AND AFTER? (after Philip don larkin)
How recusant, the departure of good minds down alleyways, or watching the lean doors opening past the milk-white strain of ashes, rising and falling.
Mad-man or soldier? both are fazed to dream; and, oh, they simply get married or content themselves with killers mourning...
beds of sex deem so explosive that Men note melodeons appear praying, or the tiny decks of water cloying and spraying,
or, on late evenings, watch cross-hearted waders washed
Like new stored clothes, the huge decisions spread out like feet and invent a new way of treading; this is the random wake of minds, the
Close call of the murderer running.
Here subventing each wade and rote,
the stolid brain suffuses
and closes right away.
Psychos dream of nurses
bearing needles, Whatever their scars, As idylls of the schizophrenic straddling Timeless stars: This makes the joins in the mind abrupt;
Jives at the Centre, uses words, and
On weekdays squires the voices out of luck In recusant, heated public.
Such lingering long incisions end in
Hostel room or spar:
A raw and semi-comal lurch
Into God's seminar;
The Church; the hospice chapel; the
One and lasting Game; the
Mindwarp-factor-nine; the Apple
crunching for a brain.
whispering and coughing machines, But the Quietus shaped by thieves Broadcasts from a churchyard sleeved With coats that serve as muscle:
The wavebands glowing overpower The
rabid storms of chording where Your child hands clap against the air.
Beautifully devout before a spent Cascade of money pours from out A vast resettling of drums. Thence Begins
the mental struggles of arcane
Girls, who may not dance upon a floor Nor faces inside faces prick music.
Vast Sundays and organ-frowned spaces Leave dark emptied trees behind Seas, where sotto voce tames the race Of gaoled men; and the sureness of
Faith will dive into the
bays and quays Which seem too straight or still-born.
The light of rock attunes to sound But this noise contests the altar-lit Grounds of life’s lurch, groomed with Minds
which govern sadness from ground
Teas, but still the coffees of the earth
Grind to dust the
magmas of bent birth.
At death, you shatter: the bits that you are Start wheedling away, and Life means oblivion: true, you've had it all but Where the dream lies smashed,
That death is the all of you. Or else Is it something bitten in obfuscation which Snaps the long photos of a killed mind?
Life appears whole: you've made it good At least, in a spiritual sense, or else, obscured, Murder delves the seas of liveliness, tried
a circus of a killed mind which out-cries Soft skirts and pigs. O, the moon speaks out Aside all mad fools;- a gibbeting shout
Layers Life and Sex with a family of spies. At
death, you matter: hot tides that shape you Appear crashed by a continuity of hot souls. Yet Love moves oblivion: sure, you had it made
And stone seems scattered- there is no
The fractionated but a real life and true soul
Signals swaggered stars under bum-rolls
Hit four winds of dust. Loud Dying reaps trust?
609. C/O de genius Philip Larkin
going, all of it, still crowing! (Ears to speakers,- that sound of The sky when it meets the sea!) Tamed by noise, enormous airs
Grasp at a strangled voce machine.
A final tune, rigidly bangs where The pleasures of music burn. Still going, all of it, still flowing-. O, the groups, the skiffling bands!
I search for sands and find a Seaside pearled with purple tones. The clear water smooths pebbles With proud tunes roving from
The tunes of
a dune-moon. Is it
Sense to find a radio attuned To the shrieking of jazz-rain? Still going, all of it, still going! (Ears to tweeters, the woofers
Of a sky which sings for crooning.)
Raised by tongue-fire, gigantic strains Drum aside yelped drakes and break Opened opuses at
fragrant drains O the pleasure of music storms
The buttons of pure pain. Ahhh...
is a grail within the world but also shining above us through all growth, all seas- hiding in the petals, in the details of the veins and
the dancing of the leaves, here the
cheetah comes. Past the four-quartered winds, more, the five-fingered sun, in each diffidence of waves, each diverse groove,
and, in all eyes, the fist. Lion or tiger, or a bold
child outspread, this one is holy, is a feline with gears. Its veil spotted, its
ultimate poising posed
through intimate instinct raved and unapproved and dashed dowm the flowers. So we see maturation, freedom, the means of home
sufficed in the turning of a weal. They gather
in groups and chant, others write vast poems to the Nephalim, some tap or pluck instruments, and, all prepared to roam,
peak upon paradise and dive into
further elysiums, further honeycombs. The
cheetah rides upon their backs and bribes each of them to wave at the running surf. In
Idylls, bring the hunted era down
into threadbare, broken plains. Eyes register on conformers; breathe alike to a moving sloane: through lynching revels, here the seas
rise and crash on the bones that see. Coursed,
with dunes, plashed and skeined
with octaves, synergies and tides,
for the cheetah, time is all and all
an engine on the rise.
The hash-pipe breathes, the cedars dourly sway And so 'Dear schizoid darling, I am afraid?'..Funny how bad the madness roams.
I could wend half of my brains, if I wanted, Rolling in the bones unburied, canted Over to catch the ribald of a fix Which is bred and fled from a petri-dish;
Just think of all the rare minds that have flown Direct into madness just by being drilled With hawks and stasis, rather the fast thrills
of lamplight, or the noise of the moon
Looking up and up through the floes of the moon Thinned to a prayer-harked praise. This life, unspun, is madly instilled. 'All
sanity is selfish.' No-one just now
Believes in the mind or the mental stash Talking to God (who's mad too); the big lash Is the maddening of people who are nice to you, Which
means doing nothing, but somehow
Saying, 'All sanity is purple.' Are these bad lines, then, vying for madness? Vying for steeples and chapels that dig Deeply for the 'devil'
(who's a mad bad ass)?
'But try to feel, because, however sanely Madness tries to show us how we should be
Appear infectious. A chuckle, too. Oh!
Only the young can be sanely strewn.
are shorter, shall be tamed;
Theirs is a floatless time. Now, see!
Sitting on the Ward brings
us no light,
Brings us instead to darkest night.
Beyond the bones stand sadness and remorse.
'This is the fucking truth, of course?..'
sometimes you hear, ninth-hand, as schizoid epitaph: 'he just
sheared off his ears and went far away..' and forever the voices will sound,
contagious and disproved, this sad madness, this
and voices are right, i guess. we all go mad at having to be here: i detest this tune, its manically frozen junk, the mad looks,
the old beds;
this poor life, raping, screaming:
so hear it said 'He just sheared off his
and went away'....Let this voice see you stirred, let things like women crawling, or bastard babbies on the prowl
assure of you and your calling. 'If
He did, She did'
like this that say 'Yes, swagger the slut-spooned roads, crouch in sex follicles proud with patent shaving'..If
it weren't so confidential,
such a considerate step back
would not dictate an object,
but would stay the course:
mad looks, bad beds; real Life made
610. 8b for philip larking god-larkin
Can it be borne, this bodying-forth by dreams Of ploys my actions turn on, like a thread Carrying beads? Shall I be let to weep
Now this contextual mourning snares my head?
And loves must go and shut me, stirred Lewd in candle-lightning,
drinking rain, Searing my face in time's fisted fireplace
But knowing nothing..
And now, inside
the day, All’s ravelled under the sun, craned By the craziness I had - Rape’s wind is blowing.
God has gone to look at floods and I Carry a chipped pail to its
caged kiss Set it down, and stare. All is Ponies strode alone, and I am mad
That any man or beast at midnight should Smash this mind which lied my wedding-day - And my apron-strings
derive their blood-stained line.
My wedding-night and the flight of time
Enable doors to open,
shut and fast,
But passion furls its hands around the drum
Of faith; and nothing else needs
Side by side, their mindscapes stirred, The doctors and the nurses lie atoned, Their doctored habits vainly shown As pointed grinning, stylised leap
And that mad glint of birds The minute tablets underneath rude sleep.
Such glibness of the mental lock Barely
rolls an eye, until It turns their laughing gauntlet, still Rasped about mind-ether; and
One sees, with a gasp of schizoid shock,
Their fans outdrawn, raping through sand.
They do not think to live too long. Such wakefulness in litany Is just a detail pity sees: A
mad-man's massed and melted face
Shrugged off in helping to prolong
The cocking veins amidst
They do not guess how early on In our tortured, wasted life-voyages The prayers must change, or come to damage, And burn the gold patients away;
How soon those giddy pleading eyes begin To flit, but not see. Childishly, they Resist, blink, through kicking kinkered breaths
Of time. Crows fly, berate. Night
Each winter, hordes the past. A bright Pittance of healing screws slaps the insane Groan-gridded ground; and up from masks,
Grey friendless maddened pupils flame,
Washing true identity away.
O, now, crawling in the gallows of An emptied, endless grave, blue laughs Star-sadden the eyries of a busted brain; Above these traps of misery,
Only rectitude remains.
Minds have transposed sin into Closed coops. Their aimless impropriety Has barely come to mean anything;
And our most manic, utmost wish is
What will survive us is purely dust.
I thought I would pass through time - A sense that, against the crowds, There would still be sanity in body-and-mind, Where the nurses shout and climb
flowers as freedom shrouds; I thought I would pass through time Mid deaths and desks and side streets And mind-revelled cloisters, but suns
Have always split Man's thoughts so
far; And when the sane mind retreats And when the bleak insiders come
I can only rethink every easy car.
The mad are fuller than we are, just As birth will always be gone However we kiss it about; Wrap the brain around trees, if you wish:
The foam will be smothered beyond.
- But, what should I think now? That
The sane are freed? Or that minds thrill? Easy it is to be too young, but This mind must seen aged, and doubt Must cede away all sanity
and Love -
More times, more bad rages filled,
More sadnesses, more mental cuts. These
Are the drafted spectacles of us all That we, at odds with Life, will collate As five per cent of our thoughts (and nine
Per cent more in the inner mind) move
Our grave works into spoiling veils
contusions!) For minds
Are criers; o, to get nearby the hot sea Interns a mad sail... It seems, just here and now, To be maddening all too fast;
Despite all the flexed thoughts left teased At this teetering instant i feel somehow
That sense shall never really last,
That, before minds snuff it, wholeness Will think aside a gallows in the heart - First truths, then surely blind gurus: This roll in minds is all to hard to win,
Now that thought is a softly foaming art. And this is certainly our sanity gone, The meadows, the spheres, hot veins, Our furling and uncurling, the
Scented and sensibly cleaned. There shall Be sane looks; but all that now remains
Shall be for all time shot and laid bare.
Now bright tablets lie dead upon screamed air, As digress foamed rivers in raping rolled grind, And massing sleep-driven breath
is vein-visual Of all the folded doctor's wrinkled flowers
That arise in confuted fusing white-coats now.
As from some syringed border filled and rare: And from the writhing objects of the spooned, A gross and ghastly light spills from the moon And filters through faces every hour
From the vast; this starless, swinging tower Blown down, forlorn upon a Maylit breeze, Must break as we sit in these harp-strung trees
And minds will stop;- the thread
of hatred cast Sun jittering, looming to its shended end: Vain nippers are parodies, our looted pasts Beshriven with the turning of bended waves,
And this dark night, enberried
with the throng Of bees that burn and endragon nude hair, Must storm the child enbaubled in the grave;
Our leastmost world, a killer of lost years.
611. c/o baker street (verses in response to the genius phil lord larkin)
A box of claws, a box of skins, An ivory ringed pendant in a case, An egg, a hat wrought out from pelt, A museum room of an extinct race, Pleas lie about the tomb, and daily shine
Where deadly hunters set forth for the night.
If they had honey wings of a feline life, A living scent, all this has gone;- They are no
more than chemicals, or dyes, No longer living or calling to the sun,
Burned museless;- shivers of players, Shivers of sods, once shrouded them
But were no understood.
The planners that use them rise upon a slick And turn within a bestiary of spades, gun-noticed, fit with
a seminary of sick isted lifeless glades. Let them seem
As heated as the jungles they forsook, Ill and ridden as maternal killing trades,
Twisted, rifled, cold and stifled
As deep as the animals blood saves.
And no-one can deny That love is more tedious than lies Seeing the mirror of the third When fearing time's cries
Creates behaviour a mind can't stir
I have slowed in my swagger to find That death cannot ever ride The waves of its occidental sea. The nut-strewn road and its cavalry Refine lust and its plans.
Coins in hands work for a life And regal banks are sworn Dead by a majesty of man-and-wife This dirt thurible holds intense Incense; so too, starved tears
Weep from their command
A mute space sears the bent: Cities are altogether shent And no-one can deny That love is more tedious than lies
The blind fo'csle inside this brain
Must swear till death dies?..
in fact, we've a lot in common,- if one inquires... One can't put off true being till retired. I learn from truth as the bank I opt to
screw Saves madam-money and buys a regal nude.
So I looked at others. They certainly didn't Keep their faiths upstairs. A car and a sharp wife Clears sex. No man may ever learn
to move Death's mind, or else a bended thought must slight
Electric fished kissing with a modern vogue Of woman-child, rasping at the chapel-doors.
O the slums, the canals, the loud churches seem Sun-toppled under air, and air must breathe delight? As if fact had truly stabbed watery tears, then Life
Leads men and girl and child from Christs. It is
'mad dawn for the crows, but crows cram these callowed veins. within, like closing doors, the weekend has begun. frogs (the mind's gel, the mind's mentor), and lizards,
(the reins on a mental bit); ahead of them, the freaks, (jackknifed and eaten); amongst the freaks, clicking cogs (all clockless and chilling). denouncements,
gabbling, clash within a weekday man, whose dollar bills are strapped to some bricks and mortars; but there's more than merely money. purple clowns, (marooned
men); a hobo with a begging heart; a tear weeping weed; and then the mad laughter. for each weekend scene is linked to faces: faces not given to life: faces
that crap inside four winds; faces whose owners are demented. and now come the wired-offs ones; the howling brothers and sisters; then the thighed bents of
and then the bright vivisectors who eyeball brains for stains; then the blanching breaking sadnesses of sufferers and the dark and intershining
veracities of sex ushers, fallowed
and burned to the core by their idiotic cottonreels; then the umpteen heads; and the vermillion of broken thinkers, and the burned up fire
and the breast murdering vomiting saviours,
and the tired red busbies, thugs, needlers, tramps, and angled fools, all worthlessly brained and overturned, and the beeless hives
burgeoning inside mad dust. All these, outside
dreams, prove a schizoid saturday is here and cumming, and the called cut girls, soaking in their shoes, turn thrice inside
o the bricked in babies, and the manacled mothers; the stereo meadows boundering into nothingness and the crawling, champering tears of card, moving on for
inevitable moons, and packed drivers not caring, dead, and the overloaded lorries and the rumba loaded trucks and the pitiful wastes in the stoned. these, outside
all sentient wondering, prove that Friday is over - the men with guns, the mastiff breeders, and the veiled depictions of pornstars staring down from every
and the lazy wives, and the saddle swaggerers,and the plugfaced husbands on the prowl. all of these are outside the Sanity Sermon, and, as if proving god's mistake,
up in bedsit kitchens for tiny boys to look at as the stars look down. in the mind's exchange, the
evening is coming to an end, as, dismantling, the slow
exigencies of the brain range from life to death, death to
light, and from incandescent green to red.
below, there are sharp rocks and cliffs, some vicars crying, and angels scrying this world for jade as its siren whistles down cut shins - and as doctoring proctors and padres and muggers
and the meadow maidens with hair as soft as slush and, of course, the cretins in the corridors, and the reason behind it all
for this, their Schizoid Saturday, slavering and hurtling upwards, and beyond, where no-one, not even the saviour himself
may bring red cars around and about
into something more than searing mind-pain, into
something more than the intensely sad and ordinary.'
612 1b? more prose-prosody after the absolving genius of Philip Larkin
My wife was delivered to my home thoroughly boxed-in, like a baby.... i bare my love for the gift-wrapped note (please care for me: I am one for saving)
then roll my fists into contradictory angles. A seashore snaps at my feet and eyes; like virginal plaster, it depletes and foams.
blow my nose on a silk night-gown. My wife asks to kiss me - but to kiss is to pull the world awry. Raising my arms, I tease her about her addictional charms
till she makes her
excuses to leave and burrows into her box once again.
I lay my head on my shoulder and step back to see the world's design - wintry shades of black and blue cleave my vision
forwards into darkness.
Then alarm clocks ring and circuits are made in ther rooms about me. Soon, dizzier than a rumour, i shall know just whose wife i am betrothed to...
My eyes sting as I fall. Just behind the mind, amidst the pubis, the venusian whey, nineteen fingernails dig deep into the bone. Should i set my lover free, or should i wait?
But then, the gift lies broken like a tree.
The sun is ash: the early morning fire Retails its solder
on the curtains, drawn The day before. The milk's been on the breast, The baby in the letter-box, since dawn.
Inside, the thieves have not been touched, and so Bibbed mysteries
and mental clots are seen, With Governors, newspapers, rented hopes,
And cots of lettuces set in between.
But the waiting room is closed: thereby Patients from Green Gables die and take, About the floor, a cell of smoke and wine And sit in seances of sight and rape.
stare about them: through the regent walls (The living lost, their pale gold locks mauled down) Read books and cartoons: 'Ulysses'; 'Hard Times';
Tom and Jerry, Asterix and the
Retched out beside them, doctors whirl and weave, Thighs and lips apart, their chances rilled With matrial dichotomy; they smile, As beasts smile on the praise of doctors
The marvellous watch has stopped. The curtained fire Burns on: the womb goes pop. There, it grows queer, A cast of thousands spills, and spurts away.
The only sound remaining is the tears.
What do they reckon on proving, the mad bards, To be as mad as this?
Do they maybe retard Each adult, even gesture, that they might rule The circumflex of wailing? Don’t they recall
That madness is a matter that’s enslaved? Or is it
more that they have been connived On a mode of thinking which enclaves the law
Of thinking? Can it be that they really side With the wankers and the loners; that they rise Each
evening from their beds into a maw
Of blinking? If so (and it must be) it is mad!
Why in hell’s
name are blind words perplexing?
In times, rhymes diminish: the words you’ve had Start weedling away into a rackish doom. It is only oblivion that saves us from the flume
Of arid wordiness and all it gives.
The rhyme in youth is riled by moons; yes, Mental corrosion takes its time to wind; but The lack of knowing, the lack of regal tunes
Is all that makes the composed rhymester Briar into contagion; so, see it’s so That the brink of being mad is all that’s left Between the eager ranter and the flow
Of rhymefulness into a mind bereft.
Perhaps being mad is having a lathe within Turning and turning the
mind into the dust Of idle moving! Say then, that it I so That the times we spend in meditation are
Just proof of madness in the long-run.
Each mind has its own distinction and In loitering annals, mental woes to stave; But instinctively, the turning of a hand Is final and enough to paint the grave
With instant ends: setting down a chair, Moving through the lamplight - how despair Whisks the compos mentis through its trends
And into time; more,
the endless regimens Of hours, seconds, minutes, weeks and years Is where the axis was at: this has to be What deception and perception’s all about:
The peaks and troughs,
the highs and lows; the tears Are here conceived into a rink of rhyme That cuts the brain to pieces as it rears
And shaves away the spheres into quicklime! These mad bards are
not so foolish now – Their distinct ways of seeming mad are fine! See how their cranked and crazy lips sniff wine
And slip their eager girls the Golden Bough.
out sexy pieces pierce a cut spine. o, a car of cunny fleeces flashes wives at the sides of old wine & a parted lemon sea heaps old creases & we summon brine.
a vein, a veiled honey-rose rocks a sodden garden. o, a drink of ravens hardens a closed cupped cake of coated icy doggy loaves.
eyes under salt-phlegm suffers old barley boys
who believe in hot gold & a rill of iron carries a cunt-lion under flexed folds..
far out sexy pieces pierce a cut spine. o, a car of monkey juices crashes...
red rashes ride from rain as ashes
drop a boy.
we were ready to stop the heart's vaginal sadness. o, we are dizzy for rot, - as hearts stop the killed then we laze after slurry-spilled catters of pure fire.
when once a bed of veils hill-fills rolly-poly pigs with drills, then tyres sea-scan a body-briar & a beat of blood bombs a swilled titty-truck with ooze.
ready to stop the heart's vaginal madness; & a head of cum huffs after barks & a slip of sparks ignites blue veined clothes...
the snips of pure life spoil loads
& killers crap where toads
the ashes of the sex-dead dribble under dark sops & money-chowder. o, a flash of the sex-bled ravel under dark slops & sunny murder & a bell of paint slices fathers when
cunny kicks the rocket...
once upon a mine, we dug for men o a starry seed of wine suffers spent rocks & salty stone.. Lovers lead soaks to
mummas & a bake of dregs teems with
ropey furrred nannas. baited blood-bone rams a kid's fascinated killed smile.. O, pigs will draw a dulled curtain across spills
& we learn the girths of days?
the ashes of the sex-dead kindle under ridden cunty heels where timbres
speak from a glassy tongue..
the feints of killers cry..
the saints of murder writhe
& we hold hands to old dives.
as we run from salt-dives to sweet cities then a bud of wide wine
whips a lemon-body. o, as we run into minds, then a baby is lashed to a craned study.,
a lip of air exhales sugar dust as vines vamp an eager girl-piano. the dates of a soft
world pin dimes under american money-soil
& a bitch of bites bags a moiled snobbed city of cake & hot-pine.
as we run from salt-dives to pictures then we twist a life & a dropping dice plays for spice & we learn of cap-christ. when the boards change, then light
must swallow horny pepper & a bulb of gum sticks cold paper
.oooo we ooze under necks as slappers slap the wide sides of blue days; & we loosen into wives as
Xmas helens piss inside festive dippers.
we arise from peppers as dark-handed roots suck pitted pith:
oh, we ride for leopards as park-stranded boots stampede for lips
& the radios at the fast hips of gals hear mitts melting under cocoa-gourdes
o. underneath painted ploves, we dam a slipped doll of deaths & trades. lo, a world of wrecks raps a lady as crypts
cry for a
rocked grave: o. we arise from peppers as sex-sanded suits drink from a dilly tree of busy trousers; & a vine of ice fills our bodies as gay hoots
swing for sweet fillies...
once upon a mind, i gave you my boots
but now my aimless bootless cries heave shoots
wideners of wax-widows sleep for sleuths & i play dead now?
i drill for body-sugar & i weep for female rain o i thrill for a cuppa & when once a pepper spices a sluice, then pain must ravel under mumma..
when once a bed of lice licks us, then hens ride to cocky wheat. o, a skinned boat of death sails for drowned meat; & blood sleet rends
i will drill for baby batter as i reap a gal-grain & i will arise from a cocker in sweet stains. ohh, a bonce of butters spreads soap on jam . Once inside shutters
we yearn for lovers?
eyes ride for snowed-sights.- old larders
a caviar of heads swells under dripping fire. o, a river under slease slaps a salt cage & a gibbion on a sweet stage
sets old age under vinegar bombs
la a revolting space where we softened gazed graves has our slobering sea of spiced christs
huddling under church-trades
i hear a sex door thud shut. These
writes hear for naves & a godless son of rage rocks under jazzed christ-caves the aldebarren beliefs of the sun-slaved
sucks a plumed kerchief from champing church-going...
I have studied god-wine. Old angels heal the winged sick & a welp of iron slaps a stall where soft transepts shoot a chapelled lip..
a caviar of heads wells under halo-hire. oh, a moon of soft breads slices caped cakes as a wicked liar leans inside breath's nunnery?
i have heard
a dead Word shaping dusts & snarls & jewel-men gem after closed capings & a bedded praying bird leaps a lazy mind under swift curved
erenetic natrons nip a knickered
& hermetic hymnals sing for Adolph Hitler?
the swinging head of sex heaps sweeteners days high where graven killlers reap wheat-tails &
old mouthed sleep.... Oh, creatures of killings weep after thrillers
& the arse of life lifts a closed hatch where men & children fall from thinned hairs..
once upon a lie, we told tales on lovers: oh, once inside a mind, messy believers roped a cunt-rind, & where once a victim in a flower rams
dolly drapes then vaginal gates open out under
the tried men who loosen dreams must cut a rainbowed bed of iced screams & a bow of chilled grass smokes jacked vinegar screens. Oh, the squirting vines of the wed shoot up
& a helonic pelican of sliced bread cuts coded killer seasons & pull-overs of reason sup a fat pup's
feline father? there's a monkey up on top that gluts a ravine
of sugar moles & a baked cunny-rose rips a rolled
garden of bulls & mares; & where posed lips rove for scared bouncy boys, then a sea of souls
must raid a room with twilight.
cummy creasers of cruel keen light dams a dummy sea. oh, a dunny drilller drabs midnight when coiled
minds reap rolled razors. once aside old gold, a rider of women
passions after dogdayed lovers & damagers of star-sprayed women plead for closed killers...
eyes under wipes sweat where hens lay a cooking egg & a gun of sex poaches bed-bends & a tree of pissers shed green-gems...
cunny creasers of cruel dead life locks a vinegar fountain under feathers & soiled mountains.
drapes over doggies walk a phlegm step underneath pups with
glasses: oh, a drakes over moggies race horse-sweat underneath cars with arses
a day in the moon, we decked dizzy bitches who never caught fire & a spinney stove baked shit under mires, & we rode lost rain?.
drapes over bodies break- la, old sex
slices female spice & a bod of iron rams life as gold death stops to rub a scissored lip-drug.
cummy creasers of cunt-grimed christs rotate under bairns: oh, naughty reapers
rap a nut as heists dilate a sprawled bent body cafe...
o, once above a knife, we hear christs shovelling shits inside babied bully brains where a digger of caddies sucks a golfed
honeyed heapers of cock-crazers slice red ruby-jams & a brawl of bands bombs sung-life & we boogy for a wined snail's
squashy shelled slam..
the breakers of old bread bites closed museums & we will use water to use light & dead gods will use the
ripe mind apples of old islands.
the dizzy dollars of the taxed tagged dead dollop a dog-bed where rolled captives cry inside old hair & the farmers of the kissed cry for
ungents of pissered rolly-polly wards.
this side a soft smile, we heard bled god-birds singing in a mad home, & a branch of beards shaves stoned raided scissor sloanes...
we will cut a slut as telescopic broad sea-crams salt waves with old gnawed pistol-pissers..these dizzer diallers of the taxies seize grey geezers & once inside of naves, blue trees
fforce faces to flow adown a seed of toads. we punish pissers of pucky men who pluck a sissy gal. o, we varnish kissers of fucky men who suck a nutty doll.
when once a city skull snaps, then nudes will summon an infinite body wine stain & a body in a wide train wlll smoothe easy silken grey veins,,
once upon a knife, eyes grew under naked baiters of bruised thunder & a bonce of ice bites inside father & a mum of xmas drives death where easter illness
sucks a nut...wiveners of wifelings whip sadness days deep, where weeping gladness slices a green yield & a car of arms visits all city fields
& a starry summer
seal rips a radio from a night ship?
we vanish into graves as rubbers cut a salted french-lettered dick-eraser from rolled mummas; & old knickers will fall down & a
dead hand will maul a clowned
moggy girl whose sea-sound wallops a cool store..
doodoo men roar against a body chain
& lippers of a rodded stain paws
a raised mouth &
the hearsing hordes of the heeled sunder sun-risen rolled mumma-budder; oo, a saline cock sward grows where thunder bombs a city of histerical summered rose-winter..
where once we board sex, then a lover will bleed a ghost to death & a beck of soap soaks a keen fellah...
o hearsing birds swing under fathered kitters of cat canteens
& a widened rat craps against doddered darting droned latrines...
copious coves of cum shed a spreaded idiot man of war & we dance down daubs as beheaded hurtkers of
sin, sin. Ohhhh
amen to the vast men who made us
body rocked, a bonny of a blagged boy bends a city drama: o, as baby clocks sea-hang honey toys then an urban father
divorces dames from the Lover.
once a dilly time where i saw father feeding oats then i snapped boats from feathers & a gal at sea dreams of rolled boats & i kiss across
& i see arise a buggy of pure christs...
there is a snail of sex that craps
a maggot mollusc whose cold slime-strap drops the sea-boys into drop-tanks, & a bunch of glass crashes when
golden goddesses grab closed ken. i have ashed after lashes....
eyes have lapped after flashes...Ahhhh
The tiddy bits of a bad brain bolt vomiters to
veiny sea-vaults: O, colts crash adown a crown & easy bibs of bled trains see towns
dragging ash for urine? lol? i will carry pumpers where clowns crane a circus under a
veined canteen & men and massing bolts hip a kind lock when green sound
sings aside the demented camera-cloth of madTurin?
the birchy baddy hidden birthmark of sound goes mute! old piggers pick plummy jutes from dummy dripped catty clits...i have heard a sea of tunes sharing ferine shaven
airelings & we wish a cutty kiss for praying & gold grits will soften for dying..where once the cammy cervix of a canned moon raises ropes from bright life
then a scrog of salt-pain plunders piss for body meat. o, when once a camay lord leaps aside whores then a bled bed of beets
gangles verbal dreams inside sugared
once above us, where a radished rider-keep shot a glue-grained waved heap then a burner of the bled must suffer sleep-lust; where once the dammy seamstress of christs
heals the laden poor then a bridal bunny boar must raise old heists from dandlers who rape-shape gold oars
we will lose all body laws.
the inglers of the eyed listen to the bull-blind & a freight
of lice slap as wormy wife as a bruisy snaked-mind becomes a seducer's maggot-head...
eyes under eynes trickle into flour as rind
stirs sitars into cakey water?
where once i softened you, then i came to know you
^&, eaten, we will sadden men with the colour blue
oo when once i entered you, then i come to flow
fierce fast tears
, o as a cat of cleverness mewls for fear, then crows
will sup a cunt-nut
& a beach of sluts sweats under loaves as mad moods
from a cow's mouth.
here there is a tracheal killer who drinks sexed screws
deeply down, where
hollow eyed pinks
wash-n-set a fishy ferine barbered net/ Aha,
the flamingo of a shot pinked
head heaps old cars
underneath bones & beautiful arches
& a canny camp of junks crashes.
the ideal stasis of the sea-slaved
cocks a king's canary from the skies.... sand spars
model mess with a fungering purhelion?!
& where once i softened you, then i came for you
& my swimming radios
rob a fleshy funk from mellow cabs & naked shoes.
when once i saddened you,
then death came to snapper udder-rain - ....felted fast cats grime for winkles & stem-stains & a moggy sun-priest
rocks a roman ditty-fleece.. Underneath plumed plashed
earth, a dunning tapestried beet soaps up Mad Madam Soddom
& a wafer strip uses lits to write upon bud-heat.
we rise upon the corn as a raven of rude sleep cages herons in fairy meat- // i ascend a dizzy stair: dummy lungs feel for cheap bodkin babels. Hooped helio cloths reap
a rapine swift-show & diggories of pissers kiss across buddy ice.
Goodbye? oo, are we always fawned right?
are we made from vines or are we brewed in a sea of leave? lo, a healer's hand hangs old bees & a bone of masks dons a body stream.
a cockrel-screen shows seedy shows then we will hear the blurred movies & a coast of iron snaps a crapped Lion.
are we made from vines or are we stewed inside a tea-leaf?
aah thieves burn when sex-wheat rams a fizzy pug adown The Sussex & The Wheatsheaf
i will sup a slutted sun- O, dreams
die for women.
when once a wicked feline mauls eternal lion-fire then a catty camp under sea-stalls marry a clean liar with rotted funeral veined
once aside a mind, we will fall deeply down where cold cauls chop vanilla men?
we were fed to canine dolls
& we are led to carmine bols
& we dig a wicked nest
when once a wicked female mauls
then blonde jammers star-stall
caverns of kneed men trips inside
a nice night sleeps for brides
& a bowl of old dreams
eats from a slept spoon.
the arches of the veined ride against dulled faces- Old lies lie to stay alive, & we are spreaded under guilty ginny wives...once above a moon, flies
unzip inside a candle- O, eyes glow like the blind & we reach for roasts as minds cogitate on tides
caverns of sleeved men seize sweetening barren cream- & lemon vaults drop a gouged hand...
as we thread high water, then a flock
of skulls pays a prised killer to veined lovers: O, a massive day when desolates wed mothers
has come back home to rock a romeo under a nippled moon. i have held all hands to
the past - , Old Lovers fuse a salt masque
& a bed of tears rots the vast....
as we tread
high water, then a crock of gulls pisses deeply inside eggy gilly gals. madding mind-servants melt when brothers stop to kill.
the pacers of the dead here heart-hang old beds
& feathers. o, the faces of the force-fed are rammed where, coilled, a soiling baby scissor
burns under weepers. eyes sunder us where a skirted lover locks a knotted sex-train
inside a motel of mutton & lather.
pacers of the dead reel for sleepers
o a bad body has
grey gallows grime for brigands &
we say all our prayers?
eyes sell us vast dyslexias & air
smellls of cold lust.
a distant noise here sings within death's ear o, a slicer of loud fear wallops AIDs with gold tears: once aside of me, we saw
endless sadness wailing after blood-wars. eyes eat into glass as billy under grass mows the Mona Lisa &a blind of salts pulls a penile past
underneath sins that naked celled Leda
abuses with liars.
distant noise we swings inside a sheared
body pool of stalled parties on the rise..
I am dealing
deaths to dives
- as i reel for sex, then lives
lay a cagey kitten at the sidlers of scythes.
we have learned to stop the cat we have earned a cunt from a sea-rat & the radios of rape ravel into minds,..
a distant noise here dims dead god's sneet
& i lay down for voices
& we laid down for faces..
venturers of fast fists search for a compass-girl: lo, a sea of vast lips locks
a vinegar strip where a dog of old worlds lead a whore to water.
where once we laid for sleep, then gold curls had me led to oozing tar-trips & a bonce of blinds draws a
o, a body bone breaks into hired water.
the cemeteries of the sated snaps a
porter & a privvy of corn writes against the swelled dawn.... O, a parrot proctor saves all dicks
& wiveners of sweet lips silkens fawns
...&, sadly, they imformed us just today that doctors heal nothing now.
uh.. the bearers of bad honey heap a massed grave burner
of mien & belled money - as a winnower of flowed flowers marry a keen hilled gal
then a stoned doll will rustle china hands where lardy knolls rock a razor buddy.
when once we heard about the bodies then we lay down in the shit-tips, &, o, when at the bodies, a dizzy damager of salt ship has to blow
guilty urban pipes.
& bearers of mad monkeys heap flashed mastubative clowns, & we will flow to work as rubied mash sinks a pooter
down a rocked sea-tash.
dogs in the moonlight loosen a trashed
torniquy from a hot daddy siren-
ghosts go on vacation as vacant cars
collide with jesus dustmen.
o you and i will descry a break in the solar moon & as sickness cries out aloud, then old wept hands will shape a signal skull from a cardboard hill
& a soapy dangler drops a naked bomb. once upon a mind, we shuddered for thrills o as children grind, then we suffer sex-mills
a licky raven sea of lichen knots a purple pear where coded sirens stop for bods.
a bitumen of bookers blends us as demons
drink from a raped sign-
signalled sky-suns writhe under sex-slime
an easy cooky egg
boils a burned hooky head...
& you and i will decide to break into timed
bodices of naked old-times
& clothes will cake us as diaphonus mines
search junk for rolled minds.
once aside a rune,
we chanted after rhyme
- when once, blown, we hunted for crime
then a godly finger forced us
La.. o where now have my masked friends gone? o, as
i idolise the fed then eager eateries stun oaky boys & treacle missions.
once aside of me, i heard a distant sun laying catty waste to dills & pigeon-cum. o, where now
have my marked men gone?.
o as i suffer eaten eyes, this spool of guns must shoot an opened moon?..
crocus eaters in staunched star-features ravel into visual times; ah, a breaking spun paunch sun-withers baited bully men
& a sainted cosine craps upon lovers
o where now have my children gone
except far West? .. Oh
quickness of belled bodies sea-rove vaginal shivers . & i am a dog with some money & eyes must clog kids with lost honey
will weep afar where a family
loosens my raven mind?
-..a pistil in a penis uses a soft wynd
- where once delled demons robe-sign signals of dust in wine then a net of musk seals a fishery
under darkening nippied seizure swine
angled aproned mashed angels dine aside a dark room & a cleared classroom docks dived sued studies where rollered bines
hoodies in tragic castles sup timed
biddy baker buddhas
- this sad side of a moan cries out for
but mamma has no-one to mother..
o where have my masked friends gone to? o as i shift cunt's daisy mine, then a cock in blue must see sex happen & soon?
!? fairgrounds of pure air slip a pilllow underneath neat fear: o, carousels of blue prayer dig the gallows & a blow of sex
bows under a faked willow.
the apsis of the eye sees through meadows & a bone of lies turns a giddy girl upstairs, where we rock around pearls.
fairgrounds of pure hair snap a mellow
thuruble of pain & beauty.
the Isis of a dead kid prays for mumma. ah, a beady framed kid plots to maim the Lover & massed men melt under Mother.
of the walked hit roller men who knock on hell with a lazy shoe? o, when once we duff for nudes
we end our sex tears & a bowl of bright pain sees fears flowing under God
i am rocked by rape....
sense is cocked by drakes..
cupboards of chicken cup a laid cock. o, ole gold birds nag after winged curves; & the eyes of clocks carry us under
laden city curd. sliding sea-chests crap upon thunder. o, a tyre of deaths tracks all cars down
a biddy burner cuts a bled sound?
cuppas of silence don a sad lounge-
old beds die in peace.
the picker of the pealed sky-pearl for rollered tears; oh, a razor of the sealed whirls for heated fears
bizarre bell-ropes hide whores
o a dicker of a swelled mind
wades into filthy wards
the doctors of the reeled live for fun funerals where a bed of wars sinks a red inside a huge wakeful ice-dream.
& pickers of the pearled pee for
sword fish & swine.
the sudden fear of blue
rain rips rodeos of green screws. oh, a bod of buds bangs, & hairgrips lend dogs to cat-sleep.
iced ivies burn as a star of sleet
snows where boned dust
flies under faked couples- O, meat
as dangerous moonight socks lust then the lady-listed die for abandon.
wicked woollen wolves snap at
easy ferine barks. oh, daddy rats see rise a soft cat & we grab bat hymns. the sippers of gold business has
no jeered mind to hold & slippers of dole harness grasped
the sentinels of silent days rasp
& a rippers of licences
rock a lazy pram...
wicked wet pollen
naked nuked Escariots
& a naked monk prays for thunder?
lunches drift by. Dinners die...geesy geezers grip a granite veil...a moggy master smells like a teen cat-killer; & as moonlife flies, then deadness
fucks inside a sail.
where a vineyard's grail hits christs then crossed lathers dig for pooppy pullers. La, mice haunt green rats...
oozy idioms of lousy men snap wine-bone
geezers gut a master tail...easy mirrors squirt linguid ale...
the sun has gone to die
gun has drawn our sky
boozy diamonds raise a blind
against bruised drapes.
END END END..
PAID COPYRIGHT JDB 2021.