Jill had her gill

 Jill had her gill. Her g enetic bode rhyming with code mustering over the clear clean sky. Adjectives. Not ject with the trill of

   her shadowing body burning

    Jill had a hound dog a  way of life. She's cluttered in the white between  g  and the note clarion  D. Shes' hugger mugger to its state. She's Mona to her jennyanydots.

What happened to jennyanydots and her heart felt worship?

Crackled between the empirical and hysterical she's got the riverread rush. the whoosh of its such a prorogued sound of parlez vous she can't eat.

Ovver you mouth! Mona come it to my back and  the hard king by the thing.

Call it a hotdog crush and Time's Duration. Or the body of paradox or bead and whip. Something. A mouth filled with water? No that word not good enough. Rye field? wheat? spending that loot on those vaccine she does . fitter sister than that, Antigone. A reign on her head. Not the elite but the complete  god as they are. Farther than Opps the p.a. system is broke.

Rain falling and Franny's got her goose.




 does a woman have mercy?

  __      Gille  Difference was reading Lacan a d ay one day a asignified at a time unfolding 
                                                               (but he never read him really it was more like he razored him!
if one and two can say sothus, its the catatonic brilliant knight horse!) (burstingwithlight) 

said was  it's a 'tory s'tory as I told about group reading of Antioedipus this was a story as the fiction's

Did  a  woman have mercy ? her veiling trailing

A woman can't be Shakespeare so must make herself . Yet  poverty or paralysis'll dog  her  life but not to trot  but to tear up the streets along Sherbrooke   (my turf! someone said it was resonating my turf) (I loved that man) street the night of longer distance hunger the golden mile the long distance street of loneliness

   That must be Jill's hug memory she's memoried a strong box tale of a dog. yes, Moses was the caliber my lover. A smell taste of near to forty yrs later. That's a smell!

    What she forgot her curliecue ear but her remembered the other smells. 

No, that's too dramatic by half. Wasn't like that at all was it now? Shipping down Montreal from Parais and the boxes of night and





  If Jill's going to be three-backed how can she breath when breathing's a shore, you mean a chore beating at waves never coming, no waves coming in ave .
                                                                              because the piggy-wigs at central control ( read: territory to boss gang)  have got the box where the good breaths are kept don't they  ?

                              and the bastards have telescopes everywhere     and Mona's kicking ass between the breaths catching her choke-hold on the dying   of day .

        they won't tell her that . they' ll say make it order   . to fit and  

                                                                       cracking the seams.



pick off

How it would be? Another way? hold back that question stifle that syntax ring that worm-root hold that cannibal. Shuffle them frog warts grab them chicken-livers, shrink those cat-guts.

Jill's got her boots wrapped around the scenery of Shakespearian Macduff. Can she get out ? She's got her breasts wrapped around something else too and it's rather taboo and forbidden. So much so we can't say what it is. 'T'is' so overtly repressed these nights, a stinking rag, rattle of bones a pink tong.

Shaking , pissed off, peeved with the bloody betrayal.

She cant and wont. Wont be desirable to 'get out' as they say. But one candle points to another in a streak of crazy castles. How many worlds have come and gone since ? Each glance is upward and hurling its pitch on the stone.

What does it have to do with D you ask? Nothing except it's my D, as it s my Dt & Rt too. so my Shakespeare which is a love like god loving a creature .... Borges says it doesn't he in that story about mister s.w. meeting god near the end of his days ....

But Mona's titled and tilted toward the sun and continuing the chase for the first word last word.

A butcher would understand this wouldn't he with his bloody apron and haphazard smile.

bloody knight'd have no hesitation slashing the throat .





 JIll  "I'm talking about the start at the page turns you know, but its more lonesome when you're not  here holding my waist"

Mona " What I say is its' the whistle in the loneliness of height keeps me here held fore the night at its peak wealth"  Jill purrs as  a cat in cold heat. Franny's got the gif spoon soup wrapped already . its figtree rhyme with the end of xmas  in the capital world .

   we dont listen no more to hysteric s in foets   | there's wars galore .



it's because of rhizome i found them. are 'they' the affects of a machine, desire territories? that question's posed itself as the round wing of a moment's fleeting footing .

                         sometime under


Lower that vehicle gently .. we're coming in for a landing .. watch that stratasphere rotating...

                                        of the naked. but the clothed, the silk , the suited . O dependents. O departments you

                     went the way of suit

                               research / row after row / the same the same the same buttons clips, ties, cuff, shoulder boards, pleats and toes/ same /each suited row / the epistemological crack-down ....   we had to run......

its not Jill's whore talking that way but her hurried hair. This frizzy body is best. is beautiful.

keep them out you

out whence the river.....


                                           keep the worm peak

                                             open the bream . whale the furlow

                                                   tidy up your wormhole notes
                                                                        we're going for a  possible.




Jill &  very nice flute / or very lice toot? was the question of the forgotten desiremachine that'd keep the piece. a piece of molecule, of ass in your eye tag meant to be blown into Jacky's baloon . and the childhood going back and black and the soldiers have torn d o w n the street and normied teen is what's become of the Momaoedipus what a rescension is that the word ? this normie who wants to want. Or normoid rather with the lips redone a tthe cost of thousand an thousand of capitalist dollar . just to looka certain high cheeked jawbone lip puffed out a look the well fucked appearance of the body of the body? what body is this normoid queen of ripped fire? alterity celebrity? its not hegel's alien being fr sure? now what are you doing this on the Irish tilt wifetrading? Shall we bisexual our boxes? i ate rock nroll. do bone get bitter on old time island an appearance of noun an phrase torn from the likely bed of salt. finding this 'true' love as close to Platonic inteference as is likely. and possible as her thigh. was the tempting tense. of desire romance and love first beat. rained by the effort of the flute and the leaving go of the oedipus mama . not that it sank that wasy but the room was vacant not bodies there to keep the spirit up. was this the staging area of the dead? it's the living that suffer.

                                        ( america feels guilty of everything. america is guilty of its present and past . in spite of it s 'black' president . who's resident in the white house who's ass is white? the toilet bowls are white.....)

           it shld. too. what is the statue of liberty ? an old gate holding the rag of war (e) at bay? is this her torn skirt the blood others at the world wake? who's waking the dead of the snow felled city and the walkers . tromping. no  tramping on the country .. it's that word echo. of narcissitic pale.

on e calls back to the mail. -------------- Mona has buried the sun and revived the dead. this is in keeping with the multitudinous simulataneos resurrection

and the woman heavy lips of the spoiled          ~.

 and the reaching down of the shade 

   and the ring worn book of  



hER stay

How do you hold your close net thing that? O a recipe? a Latvian woman strolling  long the promende summer snow falling  crumbling at the curb of deterritorialization. It would be that as heard her singing came to collect a calm edge not heathened however weathered by a strong storm life's butter usual. O her, you say, unusual? no, not usually, but its not usual.
 O I see Miss Antigone . Is that your weaker claim to laid out escaped foundation necessity it must be the shape of a glad talking pair of buttocks shaking their hand to heavensworth a dialectic I'll say!

__________ perfume prepare that signature to rough aside your hand    no one come to stand beside this committed 'engadged' delivery o f the stork to the honly god homily in downtown south of chaos pleasusre anatarchy';s young sister. Not even a classical mouth! dropping drooping can get this tent working

O Mona! your silly is the two.



A million Jills


 Mona enters a desperate plea a  testimonial her stage is alone's she's not globe to her goggle!
A million words and more but who gives a damn except you and a shuffle of a handful

I am desperate to love life but they won't let me.
Theres's my  ring of the day term.
Print it it might make a fortune for libraries one day!

kISS THE moon Jill
she's short and long winded.
A blessed thing stuck between her ears, and wired
by iambic pentameter.____________________oNE BiLLion Singing Plateaus John Coltrane.

Jill's at the corner making winddings------------------

__________Franny's got the hippy-hippy shakes!


Franny's inlusions_pre


franny's inlusions included the uussuaalll truble? or / it 's the other denim forest forget knot

the last time, i was in france, after leaving greece __ whata nicemess of chaos that was . she went  with us, to his grave 

                       (saying nothing of collusion disinterred junction at lip and nether beck)
  in the south  with my daughter, we met Felix's daughter, E, she's got at   a story about those ending 
 dime  and the day was cool

it welcome d  us

 and reminded me , of us, and them back a, in , at , in Vincennes, St. denis,           
                                                                                                                                                              it was  a crying time___-shoosh, i don't mean that way _ but the table afterward, and over   _ well, lines                           are                 like that aren't they ?
                         the            o       n              e s       coming later   ....

of reminding willow, and elm , too , then we went on the boat , to another place,

                                                  (Saint-Léonard-de-Noblat )
we came off the Irish sea.

i t was petulant was , it? it was petulant ,  as a  flower might be a  petal of preened feather and bow-tie gather.

flounced by a flounder's becoming a metamorphosis of love breath, and 



tilts her chin

                         This way  tilts her chin  ~  Miss Jill the night's heat's your harbinger. Not a binge, or hard tasked bay but a pulling want to need what's given and lovin. O  saith Jill my Mona's come home at last deterritorializing her thing, and trinket will to better its boot. She's that way to any given close ass.


               On the better bus her breasts topped out as teacups, two hard bananas, a duet of wondering minstrels, careful butts sewn  and seen, on the butt of time.Her carefull shirking after Jack's smile  Oooh this was pudeur at its worst. After all, what were those breasts doiing? sticking up , wanting to be looked after, cared for, tenderrized as love bird


to let


                                My izba comprizes dinner for two. In this heimat of the humlet well huger-mugger the jewel.Jona's to let as Jilltomona Oona's you-ger sitter.Majesty majesty her harem's see through address is a guest's ringtoe to the calling of the impossible woman, what a man needs. This pretence of loving its culled from crape weeds and bum's burning asses!

   to let 5 dollars!

More gawd anon or beglover to yoursake seek.