3

1. Crenshaw Battle Break 9 - 6

The moment of brethren spice was found. Zeke prolapsed his leather laden tongue on the back of

his swivel chair. He was the back seat driver of America who could no longer drive on the left side

of the road. Without a doubt of blue he slurred his song of bigotry over the rooftops of the world:

Wrecking crew

Fuck you

Wrecking crew

The people of Dafaria stood and cheered, and all the while his clown mistress of Carte Blanche

wept in the rat-mask room called one o one...

Re! The bamstomble Pantheon shouts! Re! Goes the Abtrx Deltangle! Re! The happy little

kajdhiawu that scamper in the dark places below the Hoptail Snogglebuttress. How wise we all

once were. How gleefully we snacked on the outer edge of our doom. Play the misfits. Pay the

bedsit. Hope the juddlebunnies don't reap the harvest of unleavened ohuekong.

Snap!

Hugo? Where'd the Byzantine Rhino go?

It snuck out the backdoor with some rolly poly little batfaced girl.

Does it sting?

foyagga! Mendulla! Coybollanzie!

The table overturns . Bounton. Bounton. Bounton.

Pakipse, md

slip pitch an th 4 9 coagulate with a byzantine empire on the side of an ottoman clip living in the

red bowels of a displaced koyne

"We're lookin' for some kind of big, smart bug!"

Travel light and the Earth will be patient with you.

Got a homeslice beetle juke

and a cracktop biddy bop

and a Nyquil chromium goose

pooka la bienta. Ah ha

cong cong cong

No! We're not having pie, Dixie!

imjustsittinghereeatingcheddarcheesecubesandtalkingtoprofessorsonthephonewishingiwassomewhereel

sedreamingabouttravelandthesightsandsmellsandtastesoffardistantlandsjohnnyihearthecryofstrangebirds

andthefeelstrangeforeigncurrenciesinmypocketineedasmokeandashaveandneedtoloveherjustahairstronger

thisismymanisfesto

esy humbolt jr. littlrlee. My alternators been acting a little funny in this Time-loop scenario I think

it's about time I hit the green street. Home skillet! We gotta run! We gotta run fast and heavy! I

just capped the Bread-Bread man and the whole consotium is coming down on me like a mid-jelly

toe wag! Blast! The Gaper's block has fueled the intention of the master tram. Behold the lion

jamming! Beheld terpy terpy nooj shoot Larry! My hands no longer sting with the floundling

hardware. My soul is no longer a tiki for the back slash forward colon www.fascists.com. I am THE LAST! I will stand and be counted with the 9-6 and the blue sky writers and the homes of the patriarchalantelopes and the cheese. Hold me still I'm starting to believe the lies and the deceit and the receipts and the cheats and the beats and the beats and the beats and the beats and the beats and the beats and the beats and the beats and the beats and the beats and the beats. I am Meric.

Noddle rocket like the shoot free lunch. I border the borders that keep the Daemons checked. I

slip inside u like the Spasm Bat concoctor, mixing up the blood and bile swell flight of the

bummble-bee like so many other lifeless Jews.

Resurected.

Underprotected.

Rain coat and jolly with Murderous intent. And all the while you free the frustration like a

mercenary zoo keeper with all the lions and tigers and bears and popcorn frothing Bo Diddley

monkeys, crazed and panic sweat writhing within their own intent.

WHY DON'T U GO TO COLLEGE!?

Freak of mind's eye and escape! You are no longer the cartoon that holds the network down. You

are the guitar--the drums and wires, baby, and if you so ever as even wimper over the top I will

screw you like Archemedes landing the cold call sale of his life.

Driving force like the tertiary knight that frees me from the womb deliver me TONIGHT!

I call U!

I call YOU!

I call U!

My bumbling and forsaken muse!

I Call U......................................

The bookshelf toppled under the weight and killed me.

I JATOed of my body

looking down on the mall

killed in a mall

my life hacked short by the most harmless of things

travel guides to the southwest

MY open head wound

fertilizing chapter after chapter with

my crimson life stuff

The words are leaving me

the regret and sorrow lasted

less time than I thought they would

I've forgotten most everything

Except you, Mil

I could never forget you

Upheaval! Unsealed. This steel toe tablecloth heart and bodily funksong. I would rather the nail be ground to lucite hardtack cracker nibs than for the hobo to perch on the tiki tiki lid,homey.

mineistheeverlovingaftertherainbeholdarainbowdarling kind. It hurts when the beetle ball falls and

crushes the cherum light orchestra with the force of a dozen bakers slappin' dough. Why her?

Why you? Why the baby in the shot glass aquarium. Don't do this to me Morpheus. don't tickle

and tongue me to sleep again tonight. I'll drive this damn amber goal post through my perverbial

soul you snot gargle witch. Heaped up and homeless and clueless to the Basting time. My eyes

are given to fly.

Harold! Ride! To the brink of the 78345. Hurts like a Larry don't it smitty. You Funky Funky

limestone Postlewaite. I'm rocking the conundrum! But then the maryworth happened a long dark

chilly sprinkle of the armageddon to come shapeless mass spilling over the city like a fudge

mohave seems like we don't get that an awful lot around here nope nope we don't silly little kising

roofing tiles like they were pennies.

The Spasm-Bats withdrew after a while. They slipped back into the crevices between friends. To

the dark reaches of the fondue forks of the bitter blackened habble-trash. Anders looked up. The

Bats had gone. His muscles ached from screaming. They had beaten him down until he rolled into a ball and wept. The scissors still protruded from his right calf. All the reasons that made him drive the green handled-lefty scissors into his own leg seemed like they mattered a life-time ago. He yanked the cutlery from his leg and pitched it into the riverbed.

Slip inside the coal basin reega reega hopjiunos.

larrybaryfertmajoratomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtotmot

motmotmtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtotmotmotmototmtomtomtomtomtomtomtotmo

tmtmtmtomotmotottotmotmotmotmotmotmotmomtotmotmtottttmotmototottttooomomomtmtttttomo

momomottttttomomomomttttttomomomomotomotmomtomotmomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomto

mtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtomtotmo { feh - pew} [doioioiong}

gley gley maneen

Without discharge he withdrew from the fog-mistress temple. His hefty tremble still flung itself into

conjunctions as he walked. After a moment james could see the soft afterglow of his circular.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the super-computer that lay dormant for fifty years.

Should he attempt to awaken it after half a century? Wasn't that the purpose of this quest?

He punched in the numbers: 7.9.

t was like a time-tip; shaken and hip. All the light in the universe strobed for the bleat of a lamb

and flushed into the dark orb that grew in front of him. The power base, the mastadon child. The

hunger that brought on the Spasm Bats. All these things leaked away in the gigamoment it took to

reach the far side of the universe.

A subtle planet.

A gentle rain told him that there was nothing to fear.

I will be there at 12:03, allowing 3 minutes to offset the equalibrium of this certain vortex.

Keep the mud-butter tight.

Until we meet again.....

I dazed. Just along the meter-baum high trench. Unloose and lavish with the gifts of a millenia old

palindromoidal hefer. I lost face against the polly-wogs. Drenched in philosophy and mertha I

drank the edible cross. Homeless. Barbados. Ensconced in the blackpool haunting projects.

Prozacian I turned to the slap - dasher battalion.

"From here I go alone!"

There was a moment of regret.

An hour of fear and vodka.

A week of coital movements with the grid-finger.

A month of Sundays.

And a lifetime subscription to the lamb.

Then I left. Half shallow and needing the cram.

There but for the gace of Grod go I.

How can I mean half the things you say. Only in the present part accounted for blameless state

can I truly call you Belinda, Devon. I'm not the only one that lost favor you know.

The methane reached a creshendo. Soliciting tiny bubbles of light and waif.

"It hurts behind the eyes!" He screamed. "It hurts!"

The Balltifonds reached down. You gonna be coming back on the welpbound hydrocoil? You

gonna slap belt with the empty tan? Hang me! Hang me! Blame for the bad things that all lovers

do! Hang me! But keep the quarter .

Then the maiden, and the raven , and the milk fat entrapment bastards all clued in the body

stocking laugh-crack. It wasn't even long enough to trample the damned. It seems so late when I

look back over the collision, now. The way her heart stymied. The broken incandescence of her

undeserving flesh. And me malted with booze. Laughing imperceptibly loud. Keening at a fever

pitch. With the walk-ons musing at the feeble façade of parchment. I was so ambivalent to her

shrieks. I'm wound up and ready to fly.

Tell the toad… he was right about me.

Illium bycarbonate is the sequence + = = -

I am greater than or equal to that which serves the state best, long and forgotten hero of mine.

Unshaven in the pity of my cold respite, I watch the collapse of a thousand bright ambassadors of

morning, swirling and contorting to meet the demands of THIS DAY.

Will you not, only for this moment, relinquish the stream to me in staccato commandments?

Would you deny the divine right of passage to me if I was the worm working the progress of a

beggar? A king? An imbecile of common roots awaiting to be awakened by the firey white hot light of love? Do you think I would falter? Would you give me to myself, fold upon fold, until I, like a recycled drop of water, come back to the birth of my demise to begin the movement again?

I am the Cloud Walker Defused...

Spinning infinitus and lost in the bowels of hope I created myself. Turned into the forgotten island

in the wake of the storm. Pilstered with fake grommie-grogs that keep the heart alive and

Kicking within my own defeat and blaster cast into the realm of filthy schwartz you make love to

me on the bodegas of San Arah!

I pray to thee with fetus in courtly gut squirming and asphyxiated by possessions entrailed by the

instinct of mammals--only they will know, only they will know, only they will turn about to see the

after birth of this star I call my womb like a tumble fixed in the fight, like a bulb scorched loose by

the need for blindness, like the institution of woman gone mad!!

t t t t t t t t t: let me come over there, I said. Shake. I shake the feverish dream away.

Soon. Very soon. These days of digital comunique will be ending. The grammarnauts tell me "2

wks". I'm scared, boopie. I'm humble, pie......

This is the last day of our cyber-aquaintance.

The bridal shop owner pissed himself when the wishing time came.

Tears streamed down his face.

"We've all become mad in the face of God. You'd look me up and down and make your

judgements. You call me mad. You'd call me twisted, pointless. But I tell you if I had one wish…

I would wish everyone the freedom of my mind."

This is the last charade. I can give no better head than the universal vacuum named hort.

littl

y monger.

come like a bastard

the night

and help make lilly real, reall

END OF TRANSMISSION