Saturday, June 09, 2007

a cumming in the sheets.

i had the lines lined up like plasticine.
ribbed textures of the fingerline.
morse code of the digital.
a 101010101010101 binary masturbate.
but she gone, she gone now.
set to sea, like,
bottle on the ocean, like,
words i won't read again, hoping you'll return the letter.

the you, the room.

guardmound, the wall.
staring off as polar contention seams the solarplexis.
it was a sixteen word cantor lock load sentence.

a speech pattern as minor key thought
organgram partitioned for fable ceremony.
the animals, they talk a speech saved for degraced virginials.

conversation exemplified landlock.
the island of experience,

give it up; put it down.

don't say that you're waiting
for something to come and wake you up.


listen to my last words anywhere. listen all you boards, governments syndicates nations of the worlds and you powers behind what filth deals comsumated in what lavatory do take what is not yours to sell out your sons forever. to sell aground your unborn feet forever.

i bear no sick words junk words love words forgive words from jesus. i have not come to explain our tidy up. what am i to hang over here with the workers the gooks the apes the dogs the errand boys the human animals. why don't i come over with a board and drink coca cola or make it. explain how the blood and bones and brains of a hundred million more or less gooks went down the drain in green piss so you on the board could use bodies and minds and souls that were not yours are not yours and never will be yours. you have the wrong name and the wrong number mr. loose getty lee rockefeller. don't let them see us. don't tell them what we are doing. not the cancer deal with the venetians. not the green deal, don't let that out. disaster. unavaluable disaster.

crab men. tape worms. intestinal parasites. like burroughs, that proud american name.
proud of what, exactly. would you all like to see exactly what burroughs has to be proud of.
the mayan caper, the centipede hype, the short time racket, the heavy metal gimmick, alright mr. burroughs, who bears my name and my words bury it all the way for all to see in times square, in pickadillee.

play it all play it all play it all back.
pay it all, pay it all, pay it all back.

no, no, no.
premature, premature, premature.

are these the words of all powerful boards and syndicates of the earth?
i say all these words are not premature.
these words are all too late.

and i'm sorry to be up for the sunrise, romeo.
for you are the east, and juliet is the sun.
a drink-another-night-away setback.
speak the mind doldrum.
leave you behind rhetoric.

you don't know, but you say you do.

the volume so high, why are whitewalls even bearing down.

there's more to this than just breathing.
corpsesteady, a longing in intergrip.
stasis like aftermath. comatose like trauma.

thank God she even knew where to find him,
it was starting to sound like a party favor.
the pinata birth; concussion deafening, heart in hand.

i might be everything you need
and you might be the same to me.

tell me and i'll believe it.
can i tell you you've been
the light at the end of tunnels?
the voice at the ends of comadreams?

lovely green eyes:

i don't care who i am
i want to tear your ribcage down
eat out your internals

1 comment:

Dissect the Spine said...

What words, my friend. My, my, my.