28 December 2007

{ 17 } .. . asterisk

he comes across like a dusted romeo to her spinning juliet

what secrets will you share, my anglepoise darling? what crevice will you illuminate? In the dusty cockles of my antiquated heart, she tells me a thing or two about this and that. This, is getting us nowhere. This has been a mad mistake. Your eyeballs feel like pinballs, while your tongue feels like a fish. That, will have no bearing; that, cannot support the weight; the gravity of what she’s saying: the trivialities we debate.

Listen to the crap you’re spouting; the copro-corpus that you diseminate. Lost in the muddle of your id, the middle of your ud, the shitstorm of your god, the hidden gorm of your ode. Up comes the fool and down goes the stool!

Check it and see.



spiral scratch
letter from an occupant .. . { the new pornographers, mass romantic }
tears of a clown .. . { smokey robinson and the miracles }
banging in the nails .. . { the tiger lilies, the brothel to the cemetary }



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