Thursday 22 August 2013

Necronomicondominium Crumb (The Short Tale Of "HeavenLess Evan" & "Eric The Night-Goat")

Necronomicondominium Crumb,
The BeSpectacled Bread Of Flight And Worth,
Under The Earth... The Oceans Boil,
A Fossilized Hatchery Of Woe And MisCreation,
Fissure-Bobbing In The Pulling Gravity,
Where Darkness Is Smooth And Cold,
Rubbing ItSelf Against Your Deep-Suited Diveing Fear,
An Echoing Jeer...
...
SomeWhere Not Beige Or Taupe,
Neither In The Nether Nor In A Mother's Land,
Not With Knee-Highs Or Pantomime,
Shadows Cast No Fright WithIn The Tarry Deep,
A Mind With No Way To Speak Its Rind,
Sight Like A Orange With No Day For Rhyme...
...
UpOn The Knees,
The GingerBread House Of SchoolYard Sufferings,
Biologically Devoid Of Being Voided Of Logic,
When It All Makes Sense In The Lasting Minutes...
...
THAT Is When The UnderStanding Knows Its Limits,
All The Smaller Fishes Swim To The Light,
They Find Solace In A FisherMan's Net...
...
...
While The Curious Blink AWay The Stars,
To Catch A Glimpse Of Deeper Waters.

Wednesday 21 August 2013

Bucktooth Stereotype From The Great Jello Mold In The Sky

Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Likes To Juggle Juggle Juggle So That Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Can Be Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy He Got Trouble Trouble Trouble From The Thinny Thinny Thinny And The Skinny Skinny Skinny Knows Its Double Double Double... You See, Sally Likes To Cuddle With Jimmy On The Double But Jimmy Has To Juggle From The Thinny And Its Trouble... And Sally Wants To Cuddle Cuddle Cuddle... Cuddle Cuddle Cuddle...Cuddle Cuddle Cuddle...
Cuddle Cuddle Cuddle... Sally Wants To Build Build Build A Bubble Bubble Bubble Just To Keep Her Jimmy From The Juggle Juggle Juggle But The Trouble With That Jimmy Is His Juggle On The Skinny And Sally Wants The Double Of Jimmy Just To Cuddle With The Bubble From The Breaking Of The Thinny From The Juggle Juggle Juggle But Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Likes To Juggle Juggle Juggle So That Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Can Be Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy And Sally Sally Sally Sees The Skinny Skinny Skinny And The Trouble Trouble Trouble With Sally And Her Bubble Makes Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Want To Juggle From The Cuddle Cause The Cuddle Cuddle Cuddle Is The Puddle Puddle Puddle By The Thinny Thinny Thinny And Her Puzzle Puzzle Puzzle Just To Cuddle Cuddle Cuddle Is Why Jimmy's Got The Skinny On The Bubble While He Juggles On The Double From The Thinny And The Puddle... While The Juggle Juggle Juggle Bubbles Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy  From The Skinny Skinny Skinny Of The Cuddle Cuddle Cuddle ... And Sally's Got The Trouble Of Jimmy And His Juggle Just To Build Another Bubble For The Puddle Of Her Puzzle Made For Jimmy While He... While He... While He... While He... Juggles Juggles Juggles So That Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Can Be Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy...He Got Trouble Trouble Trouble From The Thinny Thinny Thinny And The Skinny Skinny Skinny Knows Its Double Double Double.

Monday 19 August 2013

The Parachutes Open Only UpOn Impact

DeFormed ReDundant Structures Of Husbandry,
Valleys Of Lilliputian Remnants With RailRoad Jaundice And Varicose Coals,
Switching Tracks To Greener Minds,
Farm Handled Love And Petting Zoology,
Rugged Baleings Over The Sulking Spines Of Its Mules,
Crossing The Intersections In Packs...
...
In Threes... SomeTimes Risking It In Twos...
...
Sloppy Second Secret Winks On Coffee Break,
While Tripping Elastic To The Mirror's Image In Hair Curlers And Morning Breath...
The HemiSpheres And Divide...
Masculine EyeShadow Like Racoons In A Vaudeville Tap-Dance,
Banging TrashCans By The Curbs At Seven A.M.,
Running Late To Keep Up Appearance,
CarWash Schedules And PerHaps A Gathering Of Geneology To Pick Out A Fresh Pine Scent...
...
The Quick Shake Of A Greying Mane,
Like A Four Year Old With An Etch-A Sketch...
...
To Sell The WindowLess Dream...
...
And Make That Wonder Stretch.



Sunday 11 August 2013

Try The New Flavour Of Sensitive Summons To CourtShip! A One Stop Shop For Moments Of Meticulous Paveings!

You May Be The Type To Want A Century To Roll By... A Simple Trek To Another Bold Year, With Out The Interest Of An Aeon For BreakFast Cereal Boxed Prizes And Left Over Milk... Sugary And Lumpy... The Crinkleing Of NewsPaper And The Clinking Of Spoon Hitting The InSide Of A Chipped Mug... Throat Clearing AWay The Drone Of LawnMowers, Cicadas Grinding Out Their Final Clicks To The Auditions Of Dead Wooded Spirits ALoft In The Fadeing Morning Covers... Of Fallen Leaves... Mulch Empires... The Cool Spaces Under Concrete...
...
I Want A Sensible Jury To Stand In... Net Worth Is For The Fishes... A Boat For My Liveing Leg- Never The Wooden Legend, To Watch The Drowning Of Whores In The Ether... Those Broken-Armed Drama Kinks Seeking A Barnacled Hold UpOn My Life... To Cut ASide And Burn Off A Leeching Presence... To Stab InTo The White Octopus And Rip Out Its Ability To Count ItSelf Lucky... To Be Put ASleep By Spiders... Then To Be AWoken By The Sounds Of A Distant Ocean...
...
Now Closer... Closer Than The Calming Trinkets Of Knotting WindMills And Pompous Lips...
...
A Way To The Simpler Times... The Half Eaten Measure Of Rythym Not Kneaded InTo Shape By The Passing Over By The Machines Of Equilibrium...
...
...
If You Lack The Ability To Only Be One Thing And One Thing Only... Try Laying UpOn The Grass, In The Lapse Of Moonlight And Ration... And Let That Which You Might Be Stealing To Be... Be Left To The Days Forgotten... To Rot... And Stay BeFore Nights BeGotten From Decades Seeping InTo The Soil's Workings...

Tuesday 6 August 2013

Lonely As The Gator Gets, I Ain't Rolling With It

Sitting Around... On Top Of Chairs... On My Feet Standing By Buzzing Walk/Do Not Walk Signs With The Stretched Shadowy Confines Of Retards By The Grains Of Breezy Beautyfull Poster Childen Floating In The Monoxide Of Passing Traffic, Right InTo My Teary Eyes.
...
If Boredom Be A Kingdom, I Would Be Its Exiled Joker To Plead In Madness To The River Gods For A Priestess To Fuck For Alligator Boots And Fast Cars... MayBe Smooth Sedans At My Control... To Crash InTo The Greens And The Reds... ByPass The Cautionary Tales From The Yellows... Skip The Blues... Dance By The Worldly Wreckage For RainDrops To Fall UpOn My Head.
...
Don't Mean My Eyes Will Soon Be Turning Red... Dieing's Not For Me... Crying's For The Birds By The Turbulent Waters Rushing InTo The Gutters By My Feet... Rubber Soled And Double-Knotted...
...
The City Acts GutLess For Sympathy... Well, It ACTS Sympathetic For A Man To Follow In The Flow Of Schemeatic Foot-Trails... Entrails InTo The Hidden UnderGround, To The Pipes In Motion... The Nights Of Arranged Turnings Of The FingerLess Valved Jazzless Commune. Those EyeLess Sucking Infancys Crawling For Bloody Dripping Gashes Of The Holy Rolling Sun Across The Razor's Glinting Straits... Corroded And Covered In A Polyester Faith By The Heated Waste Of Infantry Rigor...
...
...
At Some Part Of The Way, BeTwixt The Roaring Traffic And The Clicking Of Pivoting ClockWork-Heels... My Own Finger Will Twitch.
...
With No Need For Politics... Swelling The Clouds... Pierceing... Ripping Through... That Trigger... That Synaptic Shudder To Flinch And Retrieve.