4. GRONCH
ISLE DANGLE MEN
The Flope rubbed things inward until the weakest of us felt
need. All the bottle children could do was watch the tranch unfold like a
lipped hooky. I sat on a slantbasket and watched the world wobble along the
lines I already laid out to you, Kipper. I saw the tidal ball fold under the
weight of a billion lizard hopes. I watched the light cans beckon the lobey
roads to Babylon. I caught sight of the last coinbox of man. I moved my hand
down to the warm wetterings of insomnia. To the cones and the primstones. I
sought avarice with a flashlight. Keep this all in your pocket because my love
is just learning to flinch.
“Ownk” went the last
thing.
“Flonssy” went the clowp
The birds just lathered around in the branches and milled in
the dew. She was never the clothy mistress of darkly twine. She was ill and
missing to the lad. She scalped the little fucker with her will. She beat down
the hands that rose to fist it. She was love to me and I was just the vaporous
shards of common. Inside her I lasted a moment longer than that.
“I’m noxious and corned in the back!” The Clavis yelled from
his unicycle-on-fire-beyond-the-veal-of-selfless-things-and-back-again-bot. I
rose to meet his gaze and gazed upon his rose: meaty and not too sweet. The
universe pivoted around us all, spinning infinities like candy floss. Shifting
the things that shifted those things into another form of form. Sneeze!
slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity
jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity
jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity
jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity
jib slibbity jib
slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib slibbity jib –
I
c
an
n
T
mak e
pic
t
u
res
w
I
t
h
words
.
.
hold fast our >>>>>>>>>chariots
drip slow our icy >>>>blood
beat not our callused >>>>hearts
on they come the savage >>>>>>>spyres
to take our bones and>>>>>>>>>>>>>
fart
9 6. cowplatts and poody poots. lets do some
learnin’ on the new new putes! machine machine, tamberlaine steve, how
do you punch that girdle for me? tie it up 9, sew it up 6. fart 9, fart 9, fart
9, 6!
hampers are for clothes, and butter is for catz.
In the spiral, I lost Allice. She was solving the spinnie
puzz at the top stairs when all of a sudden
GONE! AHHHHH-OOOOOO! In a puff of dimmy-damp smoke.
"Dan'nell?"
"No..." came the Shisper, "he gone now."
"Well. Hmpf - how'm I gonna get back to the spinning? The twists in the
sky? Have I lost the fight?"
"You blank ass blankity blank. Fuck your blank blank blank -"
"I don't understand you!!! I don't understand this!!!"
"You best not be fuckin' blankin' with my blankity blank!"
Voooosh! BLAM! <bink>
gone
The timbre tweaked of flousy. I’m not bottled in the cooch.
I’m not heaven to the happy. I just called to say volumtoo, Willie. All the
dead left their pressure on this. They scooted the dude til he fell like an
nastro patchy. I’m sick of the cogs and the bank bobs and the mooshy little pad
dammits that made me deny you three times.
He slammed the glass of blood to the table. “That’s one for
the poor that endured the rising sky!”
Again. “One more for the hefty girls in row K.” The glass shattered.
“And all God’s little bitches will scurry when the lightning licks their glans.
They’ll shuffle their hairy little bodies into the bleak backswept avenues and
yattersnaps. I’m sorry for you. I’m sorry for all like you. I’ll clean this up
with a whisk and a shine but don’t cry to me about the battery line.”
And the remorse code was night.
Shipped beyond the wrist friends. Holed in the melting
place. Sad at the fall of man.
dole-doe? dinnn. ducka-dahhh. din? ducka-din.
ducka-dah.
I haven’t forgotten you, my baby blue. but I don’t get out much. not like I
used to. Nilly and Patz got in to Juxtapose. finally! Joan-Doan found what she
was looking for on svengali-6 (you know, on the outer rim of the galaxy?). and
Keekergard is still toiling away on that damned crystal set. if he ever gets it
working I’m sure we’ll throw a great big party.
how are you? what’s yer frequency nowadays? last we chatted you moved to the
higher short band. 1138.7 Khz was it? you move around so much. you always did.
well, better wrap this up. if you get this before orbit phase please shoot me a
reply. just thought I’d take a chance with this in case I don’t get a chance
before we dip into another superstring blackout. they always make me feel lonely.
we are still here. we hope yer warm.
love,
Aunt Binkie and Uncle Z
We ship the askholey back to the panufacturer. That’s what
we do. We run on the dimmer switch and stitch the back porch screen for
answers. X. X. X. Like a little wet hole on a big fat tent I shimmied the
candle bragging son of a bitch in the land-trance battle france kippy
doomshower handle bucket freeeeeeeeeeeeek GLAMOIGAN! It was so product to think
it different. So throw back and gel to believe it real. Outside in the piss-soap
revival child I found the clamor deafening. Defeatist. Defeat. Deaf and eat the
screaming noodles of Shooleytown! Combines a-pantsing on the back 12. And
suffused in the sleek black frictionless defamation of a nundry slander bag.
Howzat? With the hat? Diddly diddly do do do dadodo dadum FLAP FLAP FLAP
These streaks of gray. These terse bristles of brown and
white. I know they kiss-tickle thee. I know they inch under your skin and count
the massive missive directive detective. I shopped it around. I shopped this
fistful of scratch around until I found a bitter bidder who wanted the meal I
was willing to deliver. Sucker punched. I lumped the thing until it shat light.
Round little thing. Stupid green. Anchovy kicker pad. Just go away Tamp
Johnson. I dressed out and bled dreams bigger than you, shitthought.
Kind and rown is stilting and dancing in the beerpants. We
laughed until hearts and parts and farts fell away and kept the thing from
blowing. She and Powder Don shliffed the hink. I remember because I caught the
green in my eye.
Nasty little crackbunny.
Sunshine moontime lilywhite jabbercrime unfeeling drunk on wine I pound this sloughing shed in a dream of
unforgivable pandering. She and I never fired that gun. We never called the
nurse. We never ouchied the ouch! But we met at the end around the hole where
they threw the drunk and the dreaming. I illicit no despots.
Then thay called me Daniel Liger. As in, the genetic
combination couldn't be magical enough. I was booked and ready then, flimmed and
heady Ben, drunk on Lilac Wine. If she didn't catch the cramper within the next
ten minutes there was NO WAY I was gonna get off.
I touched the green eye again. Shiny, like a boy who finds things that are lost
because he himself was lost because his fragile family tree was withering away
to a willowy skeleton.
Dust, doo. F in a Cotton. --------
[enter the code that best represents your sphere of influence]
1-44.9 opp: "My gym teacher hates me cuz i ain't athletic enough and
thinks music/theatre is FAGGY"
2-865.9 gofl: "Lick it away, the salty skein. Fate turns once around and
either you got it and take it---"
99bBb: "David Bowie was great in that movie - who knew he could act AND
sing"
73561.000-j: "Hork"
All right.
that's enOUgh.
my netflick sare due and i have no postal service................
I know what it means when it says "sweet on the lips and nipped in the bland wasteland". Light pissing through the ashram bowling hoardes. I'm keeped right on this spot. Right here where the hell and the hall intersect with the skivvy dance band and the ohm paddles.
Go and be something orange. Go and feed something rock.
Me? I'll sit and sail this bliss until it fucks like a vengeful falcon. High
and falling.
there. the words. the light. the noises of a million newborn chicks.
there, once more, i will glance before turning away to something more real. no more is the tolling agent working on
sundays.pleasecallbackwhenyouhavewhatittakes.
slimm m m mmubahbuttarded.
all of this is so overwith. the friendship of molecules and motion. spasms and bats. johnny apple ottoman empire writes a poem for this ocasssssion:
brokendreams like shards ofglass scattering dust
he quotes, of course. he asks: How are things?
The onus orb oscillated inside the white hot powder dot. If she was 6
he was 8. Never linear. I'm not playing, dog. My bounty isn't crumbling
in this mineshaft! Not tonight. Not this high. THis is a flagrant,
fragrant vacant vagrant victory and I'm not rolling in kimchi, bucko!