Friday, November 25, 2011

2  from the MWS manuscript


Holy water chomps off my mind.
A kind-hearted drool.
It's hot when the fantastic enhances
Not art but lying around.
Going places is staying in prison.

Palm trees ball dairy blades
A nude swimsuit charred skeleton plays.
Visions, nenes, all these vain reasons
The days park sticks with dark nose dreams.
Obsessing over the holy is my bind.

God came from the stars and went back to them.
It's mad and cruel.
Motion potion lotion commotion of
Thigh soundalikes power the ocean.
Crustacean highs king my pump the parasite's finish line.


I think I'm thumbs exhumed from the thing said
About farmers of the flood
The promised land lets be
Bathing lotus slaughters settling empty space pleas.

The savage maps and interprets my apparition.
I'm going back to where this came from.
Who's been here since I'll be gone?
Kill everybody to clean yourself of that wrong.

Shit on the pencil and paper and
Write down why you've a right to stay.
Sometimes I believe in shit, sometimes I believe
I don't.

Putt-putt gut stumps with their red dresses on
Cause rumbling, cause falling allowed.
I can tell by the following that
Murdering cities seems too mall.

When I lay down at night I fight
To see the night glued on me.
I sit up all night long and prepare to marry
Muffs of the solid sea.

Working without what's found, the 
Thing saying
Since I've been gone I'm going back to where I came from
Outruns a revolving savage.

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