2. Undulating Inside The Shravbasket
The crack went "Heeeeeet!" and slid down to the other little happenstance. Ponjoli spun the hardtack cracker to face the demon.
"How
does the honey sound? What makes? Bing Bong. Watch the hatch! The neeble
stackdogs
are baying
at the half seasoned moon!"
"No!
I'm not leaving without you!"
The
Weedles grow strong and tepid in the garden outside. The last refuge of an
accidental man.
The Harry
went strolling in the back. Her gnarled hands clasping the egg. Only the indifference
kept her
upright. Her blood leaking out through the bartle inches. She placed the egg at
the
entrance
to the spasmbats hole.
The Harry
raised her bonnet covered head and bellowed; "hail the ravenous vacuum
smells! Thy
feantal
harbored lantles grow!"
It made no
sense to Itka who watched her through the bifocals of some long dead librarian.
It was all
just window dressing.
HELpmEIMFaLlINgfORTHeIGIRLiNtheHaPpYpLaCE
. The grass grew thick and sickly and
silky and
dreamy and divinely and blessedly and enraptured in the light of the
angle-brace tickle
machine.
Heads will roll! They told her again about the anthrax bladder physician who
took up
residence
in the matrons smatter only to find that the calculations had been wrong the
whole
fucking
time, Darla, then the whole thing toppled like some top heavy pole banger with
a couple
of
stingers and a highball in her walking over a cattle grid in stiletto heels.
Seen unblivious in the
eyes of
dementia the cradle held her own against the stymed sizzle.
Never
under. Never under. Never under.
I've been
missing her, Donald. I've been missing all her little breaths in the dark. All
her shrugs to
others
when she, like everyone else, is baffled by what I say. I'm not holding you or
the universe
accountable
for my failings. Only me. Only me. The wash is cold. Time for the dryer.
Stab -
heck- the bottle neck triumphant god looked downwind to the dibble matrix as it
sipped its
pink gin
cocktail and made whoopee with the alabaster wagonblast. It gently strummed the
chords to Jetaime
Harold on its autoharp. The god's head swivelled on its pixie and captured
the
stance.
I have to
say I was wounded by this posture.
Lackadaze…..
I guess
it's not right anymore. I guess the joppy little backstreet Panthers are a
lepton from doom.
Figures.
Pour me another while you're at it. Oh my Christ … we're in Senegal! Cavendish
murdered
the Dane. Then Rocky Maritime, Louie Centrifuge and Boom Boom Panzer Division
rubbed out the Decorator. They called him the Decorator. No purpose. Just
called him the
Decorator.
Then they kicked him in the fagecytes.
Clifford
was adorned with a Jimmie purse and a nock-woggle belt handle. He kipped it
up and the
blender bend hang(uh), rock toffee. Mildew and shoe laces and penthouse, and
army
chips and
swinkley laptop donnies. By the power intrested in me I now prolounce you man
and
bo-bo-hog-wallup!
Kickin'
ass and taking names, Num Num. Num Num just scratched at the dry skin on his
elbow and
pretended he was Christmas.
"It
seems righteous to fiddle with Perdition. To gently steam around the edges of
sex. To
mate
unknowingly with the wicked heart like so many artists my size. Slippity and
black and
forever
nolling the bottle - toffs and the patrinomes. Seek. The blister forever rising
and then
spewing
the libidinous goo about the brickwork. Sometimes it seems unable to cope with
the
Jerry
battle. The 9-8-16 plus bovle bovle's only the horn dog pelvis vexed the light
camshaft
apple nut
brace." At this the Harry possed. Only for the moment it took for the
synapse to
secrete
and the nerves to carry the electric message to the muscles and the tendins
telling them to
squeeze
the trigger. Only in that span did the Decorator have time to think about his
folly. Then,
like so
many angels smoking crack hopped up on the cool/hot smoke from the pipe and the
lime
kiwi
daydreams of Day-glo nurses and sodomite Doctors, did his soul disperse.
CHUNK!
Imug
riddle me! I'm sparking on the fat side. I'm tokin' on the throp shag. What
that hell
is this in
my mouth?! I'm trying to get this thing straight! Answer me!! Glib trinket
bitch! Don't
come
knocking on my door expecting some hold-up and shower! Oh my God! The dawdle!
It's
getting
away!!!!
I think it
was Jenny Jorgenson that taught me the most about love. The way she'd laugh
at me when
I tried to tie my shoes. The libidinous 3rd grade finger point and
chortle. The bombs
and
devistation of love long before the know. I was on fire! Like Dresden I burned!
Like the hank
babble
read-em and choke I listed to the flickback am channel Bargle Bunk bunk. Too
much like
a tree
trunk. I'm only as long as the reel that feeds the DNA and the free radicals.
Dem gods got
the drag
on. The Marlin of Death can't run too fast with me. Then all the children move
silent in
flux and
dampened by the man. Unholy and aged and crispy again. To the light! To the
lichens
the must
up the angles on which we hang our empty davenport hands. To the wild country
where
the beast
and the campbell make waves in the hotbox felt tip. Asshole! You asshole! I've
absorbed
and radiated as much as this pale body can! Do you understand me?! I'm giving
up! I'm
going to shut
this notch-bottle web down! I'M NOT KIDDING YOU WHEN I SAY…. This
diamond
ring ain't gonna shine for you any more!!!!! So you better bite! Bite and lick
and suck
the last
drops of human convention!!
I'm
Hearing
Rumors
About
The
Byzantine
Appleseed
And it
makes me happy
to know it
fingles you.
It's only
a show that I reflux on the table wind. Myulich und Brechensprow. It moved in
between
the drums
of waste oil. It's ever shifting flesh laying the helpless and the commodity. I
scoured
the
dressage like a bedpost. Unlike me. Unlike any like me. Unlike the liking-fires
that burned
atop the
coke ovens of Northwestern Indiana. Abliss with the frontage and knocked in the
pagoda
drown
attle-branch fairy wine. I'm sharp around the eyes. Sharp around the knod
pockets.
Clipped
and hanging loose in the August blouse. Shrimp?
The mist
begot Joshua who moved like the Thorazine Primrose. Dark and abundant and
lapping
the flag.
Smoldering near the child, and holding off the man. And he's wearing that hat.
Leaked
down and
flippy. SUMP! So the waxworks haggled under extreme moonlight. The bitter
mishapen
crowd moved to the network. Unparalleled consecretions and bobby flax
underpinning
the deemot
hand rags.
The
carnibal duclos wung hard on the barc tide nylon.
Dissipate
inside me. I can't control the flowing. The mad, mad bastion pads. They seem to
move
around me.
Gregorian musings slipping from lips of cobalt and bardolino. Flaxen hearts and
cool
sundry
eyes. A Bath tide. The moonlight avenue. Harvesting the blue center of a
natural gas
flame.
Holding it in translucent splendor to the door-dome. The mild midnight field.
Up near the
obsidian
giant vox that resonates in the temple of Heaven. We are one with the algi and
the
umdow.
Intricate and labored and alone. My only breath taken in the nuance of the neon
battlezone.
I call you
to smear the white cloven amble fudge in the markings of triumph. I beg you to
hold back
the danderplast dream climb. I walk no faster that the can sham woman with the
blister
smile. Arc
I …levit tre…muldon kri… Leave this damage to the hollowed dfallgo. Answer me
in
gimmage
and foy. Mark the tiny holes in your soul bag. Dance me. Build me. Endure my
shame
on this
the night of milligrace hands and rings.
Last me
Uptown biodegradeables long for the ratchet casts
And the barndollar tow line
Read on
you plump dawdle dogs. Don't let coddle sizzle dance you back.
She wished
she was corn. Or the holy quendicene lop goggles. She meditated in the
Jibbernasium.
Hoping to catch a glimpse of the pult as it moved in time to the frown. Error!
Bookmark
not defined.. That's where you want this thing. CP CP CP CP CP CP CP CP
CPC PC
in all the
arcs of the sponder lash I had hoped never to find thee strapped and broken to
the tilt
ash. I'm
half of what you know and half of what you want to know . All of me is
indifferent to
precedence
and chivalry. I'm lack. I'm ……….
Hold me
Slokum. Hold me until the vibrations stop.
The chair
kept up the pretense of structure while the fat gigilo squished back and forth
in place.
Then, like
a wicker motorbike, it collapse and the conund was undone. Only in the light of
the
malpheasance
did the Haiku make more that perfect resistance.
It wasn't
long ago I took up arms against the stranglehold. Now I would gladly sell it
all for a
toehold.
Just one little squeeze on the proles. This Mama is far too unthunk to move me
anymore.
I'm lissid and boodle and ready to move downwind.
What was that?!
The CRAOW! The Manganese stipple cap! all thrash-battled and copulating the
map. tie
me down and hold my childhood still! Tist. The radio pummels and pistons shake.
Tist.
Hi red
hair girls who I'd like to shelter. Pist. PSST. Cambo fighter in the
pre-day-dawn. Awake
me from my
fart blossom. If i reply to your inquiries you must pinch my
pimplesister.
HA! He. Man! CHILD!!!!!
Stiffed in
the gut. Like a fetus falange on fire and blistering touches the
pinhole
light-seep. Tickles was there. I could feel him. But where was
Husker?
She was the one that put the drugs in right. She was the one who
made sure
that all the whispers of love undone where crusted over. TAMBY! at
the
moment
of
reprieve. I glissen for u.
Somewhere
on the edges of antiquity I am losing my nerve. Caught up it the titty titty
fart game.
This is
the last time I buy you unders! Not on this earth holeymoley, Morton. Ivil,
Leon, Hankie
trendle
BUNK_CODDLE hop to it you back nippy BEEEEIIIITCH!! don't fell the chromium
hollow.
Christallmighty I want to reach in and pull out the pain. Just dig around in my
own gut
and yank
out the firey fistful of pain lentils. Make some soup and hand it all back to
the damned!
Arfunkle
moved to the slidey night. Drippy and stolp , unholstered and bold to the
mountains. 1
more
happentrance. Marcone plays the Mamba, listen to the radio. Don't you remember
we built
this
city...on rock and roll? The pult was shaken in the magnetic blast that rocked
creation. The
spasm bats
jittered in thier catacombs. They lost thier babies and unsealed the mortar
barn.
"I am
Methodicus! The last son of my father. The tight blue lightning inside the
Tesla coil. The
happiness
of the of the moaner core! Stay put! "
All of
creation stopped for a moment.
The
lapdragon slithered away into the shadows and coiled around a blistermouse that
quivered in
malicious
anticipation.
Methodicus
reached down and touch the vagrant soul of man.
"Be
that as it may. I will not hesitate to impale you on my Impy stick"
" What
good is blue to me tonight. I have wailed in the dark void between colors.
Slipped in
between
the hues. I've held gray and known the innermost fears of lavender. " She
belched.
He played
the flute (dooleedoolee BAM!) and marched off to warm.
Snubby ciggarette
fingers pitch
I'm riding
on the backs of whales
Labia
vaccum sterile lynch
I'm
twisting in the rainbows edge
Labrynth
svetcum folcrum vatk
I'm
lending library books to kids
And all
the bingo games will be lost in the dreamtides ebb.
B - 12
I - 25
N - 32
G - 66
0 - about
9
And then
the circle of power was drawn. Larry, the man-girl, licked her
sword.
Without the sliver rings on her fingers, she looked almost barren.
Naked in
the swirling neon virtual sky. Her enemy drew near. Its shape ever
shifting.
Its preshient telepathy driving her mad. The king of the Spasm.
The
demigod of all that fell or flew to its death. Larry drew in her breath.
She
thought of her father in this moment where all was colliding.
The Spasm
Bat king spoke. "Valeo PAMP? You rishe toomy risker? Slalko deevers.
Titty
man-girl quit. Prepare to be spayed."
Sorry.
This sucks.
Love,
Renny.