Poetry Archives Bio

Cross Yourself

December 2, 2003

There is an overcast magical uncertainty in not being able to save and the forcefulness of forfeited punctuation even thusly retaliates through the air a leaf antigravitating on a cobweb string does not fall spins dances through the artistic cheater's grid emergency exit only alarm will sound out the beginning to what is the pretense of a weeklong preparation for a ten minute orgasm on one leg and it still stands to reason that unaggravated a little bit less than one point five hours to go in this vibe heart fluttering like the bird that died chanting henry miller henry miller henry miller you hold the secrets of the universe from the asterisk to the magnanimous motherfuckers of the powerlines cable lines hundred base t ethernet to disappear like portioned flow of popular culture without the capitalising on restitute investment no i shall not resort to the save what do i know control s is a reflex by now but why should i look for a word that does not exist in real life something like a comma or control zee as the americans say no this is the true progress the freedom of designed prepackaged plastics into the underpants from the swimming trunks of obsequy somehow i can trust my hand to the wind and clutching my genitals into a vonnegutian snout i shout take me to the sands of my youth but take away the blood to unyielding ears of flour what to describe the inevitability of destruction flood earthquake power surge duck and cover peking duck no i shall not save the agency of tangential floatation devices that underperform to the impeccability of skill that relents resenting the repercussion of the neutrality of sound what did not mean anything in the end means the strawberry now knowingly submit knowingly requite respite to the perfumed per capita per cent retaliation is a bitter swordling canisters and the banter fink of the nighthawk marvellously finds its misunderstood meaning in a word dictionary where there is not even a vowel without all that semen all over its vaginal opening yes the extrusion procedure failed at the root what we thought was a roomful of percolators has turned to a dissolution of rusty doorknobs in the incomprehension of my generation's social contract apt rapt to the beat of adolescent sex to drum and baselines of economic existence sure words are cheap but so is everything else that you will respond because unlike you i exercise my stock options every day at the gym and you sit like a doggerel repeating repeating repeating fuck me fuck me fuck me like a boy in a hotel familiarly entered by a pixelated relative and he just sways get it over with you've seen too much but you can never see enough your strength derives from the well that was an unexpected break courtesy of mother nature oh how poetic the collection of misspelled phraseologisms turns out ungh that was nice but sex while we're on the subject means so many things for some a tender hundred dollar elephant with hay for others to discern from the devaluation of lava so choose i say all the time oll korrect and to the hell with the oh see ar and i can see even if you blinkity block to the street sockets of the marvels of the eyefuls of cock you get at those naughty virtual conjectures oh you know how the heating up of rain reverses the feeling of needing to rhyme and restrains now you don't even need to save anymore just type rape the stone cast in fact type cast the entire thing say your life was a vestigial waste and you will not go to the last class because it is below you to drink beer in the company of a red lipped dogbitch but she has her teats for a reason and you have yours lets not shy away from old age idioms that the grass is greener in the reflection of light and scolded pieces of glass after all do not hesitate to stall the flow of time take it easily to the streets and protest the unjust treatment of periods well what did you expect perhaps i should eliminate all any connectors type magnificently rising speed accelerate sky stopperful of tasteless pork porn and revert back to the states of bee aye you oh my dear shake to the left align right justify to the people what stylesheets cannot hold with their semicolons and fancy curly brackets photo by carl now that was an interesting man if you don't know then all the better if you do then look inside your own pants first i once saw a license plate in the dark of those photos but could not transgress the illicit beauty of it well what can i say one suffers for a few it is not by any means a new story but at least i'm not causing the suffering squeezing family jewels out of oil or somesuch industrial scandal no i sit low and sit tight especially fitting in these blue blue jeans that show off my legs nicely wiggled if put one in front of the other and thought detriments come with time revelations are almost as rare as the occasional misbehaving comma oh such terrible beauty of the uncertainty of predestination such demented area of vague double entendres and political deceit but i am easier to trick than you think have a nice glass of wine and then eat a steak and rot the fathomfuls to the doubleplusgood hard fuck of a teen but hey equanimity allows all you are four teen she is twelve anything goes and the phillips tool will remember for a long time to use the right treading for the right kind of jobs in the softness of victory day walls and the texture of the inner sanctum of faith but i digress to a low plane of highlighted disorganised crime and late executions what it really means is that it is not my place or my time to rally to dictate what the minus minus creeps in libido like a dumptruck i think so indeed Stephen i guess now it's all good that the young boy friend is out of the way now you hunt and to all you indian motherfucking ethnic bastards with penises longer than mine let me say this satisfy her so she doesn't cry anymore or if she does then with you oh political correctness stings my arse so splendidly positioned on the stem of my legs a support for well meant writing implementation and occasional thrusting with one tenth of ginsbergian flair well crikey settings have reverted to their defaults everyone painted the walls of their vaults with their brains let in the rhyme made gains reset income tax felt free to relax when the convolution came and came and came on their faces they calmly took their places wiped off showered in acid baths received medals of honour stepped through stake and stonings and turned their head does anyone else care what occurs on the white on the night with reactionary rejection of pastimes of concrete walling i can safely say we neither one of us knows where it is all going to end so you plan and plot a few lines away everything arbitrary really but since you decided to make the rules as you go it could not set so you close your eyes and make the sound of a dying pig and go meeeeeh this one and he is taken out and shot and from that day on all the animals in the forests had digital satellites in their homes and aluminum panelled finish a gleam in the eye not effaced with generations' worth of friction that was neither an invention of a sick mind nor a pastime of increasing entropy to the disinformation of ants and after all how much can one expect out of such a short array of symbols out of which no tangible good can come unless you sit down one day and think real hard this one is going to be the nose this one is going to be the eyes the arms legs the head and just before you hang his freshly made head you breathe life into him with a missing word.