versions_ awake

Mona's wordpad apartment deluxe bourgeois style unrelated objets d'art
subjet d'art Mona's royal buttocks of beauty _ they speak to me _ saying to me in a rushed aside
what pleasant hill is that green Jerusalem? Mona function'd fictional_ the
queen's (queen? queen high heeled in the boisdeboulogne) (queen toreface ripped off god save the queensheaint
ahuman being) (queen: queen bee) (queen: her majesty) (queen: someone that oprime les autres) message "of peace"
to the world stage of world news were always her best play __ winter sans snow was not a place to campaign_. She has goosed the natal morninn g of her fat word her plight's stick yer butt sans frais down wheels and puns. Busted by statue and gape, she's creme de menthe on the refeted phrase. St. Fatality has accidents in her pant(ies) knows her cock wont be worn backward. A secret gizmo to her job won't let her play foxes and bears. A fox was sniffing around the fields between two underpasses as they drove the night heading into the finite mix mastering of city. NO heading into the infinite jangle . No, infinite wrangle. No, screw this! She whirls her skates abound, skateboard skirted she assfitted to the sun, her boy's best butt judged on, she's hearing praise and hoorays hoorays. Is it a man appearing at her door, as she spun the doxy wheels her funning way, funnies on the kitchen table where the murderer sat, she's georgics to her baffled fey not worked over by wrought fingering exercised by haunted gable and trouble eave hearing everywhich way kind of rent. Off to her rented sphix she goes hidden in a buttoks secret to the good god universe.

A voice bellowed out of the belly One can only hope the universe'll blow up sooner than later. An apocalyptic thought twisted by vased flower bedding and not rivered thighs. Hmmm do you think writing in the first person is a waste of time? Yes, it is because cause cause first person is fiction and only appears otherwise. Fiction of first self is most self as I who says I is dead and yet who take its serious is deader than dead dead dead . Dear dead I dont write back yer dumbarse plays on empyrean emotion fixture who am i shite. what is that shit. Shit to I. Shit to the I.

Dont bellow yer voice inmy eye, she wisp of fair . On her arm rested . Reposed her winking heart to his. Oh sweet!


there are

There are many workshop shopping where Mona habitates. Digging in her digs. Logement des fou. Sombre precuser to her rent. Ghosted by the hill top maze. its coughing desing. Not dasein to her pent up fancy.


Legend has it she had many covering to her plateau of bodying regression to her rescinded
feel.if not was there another spot for her to go bog? of this typewriter she's heard of
clinic and critical but her amaze was a gift of not paying attention the
inessential .


Pride of campd de self

Fictioneering Mona'spride of lions her camp de bivouac self, not kerouac to her candering self.Or subject pas a pas melding the triune feeling to her tophat bowtie lady of these manuscript feet you are none the fretted no work of scrolling tires. O comenow, repeals Jill her shamble shake mummy to her occident oils. Infantile box and unguent gasping . Privateering more like it, it whisks the hi-di-ho-down rathering its smith to forward down the den.

Mona skits oranges twisting lathes her boom-glow row. Or other feathering wilted socks across caverns of deputed denims, socks for her feet, a derby for her brain head.

Fanny, don't bum my tits, you braggart! Infantile trains and derricks to ramshackle yer hoists, infernal conates sisphyean swish anatomical rapscallions. English is her e_name and love's biting ass her tame ruby-shipping rump. Hunkers to slaver over were the boys pantalons. Not mister nymph and her eleven by forted hexameters.

Puf and cuff the pill do they doat, hillyboat to her skivvies. Around this hall the forty elders of sciene and privy sat. Thought smacked their head, as any dagwood rainbow might if she were the thought that buried the tomb. Amn't we goin to the wood, habit queried. Perish me timbers, by the Lord Christ we'll have the living of you yet, you tart of the fartbenders and rule crackers. Come ye faithful dossies yer ragwood slacking clowning days , a bosom for any failing nail, you'll have. Flaunt yourself before me, will you? Crab-wise my little nutrient buckle.
Impetto Impetto private caretaker's tiniest thingamajig. C_ this tongue's inscribed on your ass. Jill hushy to her hussy willingness! shush yer scandalous mouth of diamonds . A jocund tart was better than none. A sandalous lesbic speech armed with plates, cups, upward standing houris. Low buttocked high buttocked sheer weighted the swayed hipping of her enjoinment. Restart camp once more, myrtles and Agamenonon. Nononon. Yes yes yes Come all me triolets, triplets to your wrong

treble clef to this fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari


at their shelves

at their shelves entryway two scholars burden of choice. stamping the air of its alcove the bictching sheep not whiner's .

or say the appparence of sun worship shipping fate over the prarie category and city wonder half the word hung on its lip imagined projected voice_ a wee trick and trade to steel lady _ traitor not trucker. Or curling bowling,mountain range of Canadian immanence, Alps bearing up under the glance of its seethe. Once popular for changing clothese not a naked academy for clackers or assylum pretend.

Jill your sentence is wealth of sides. Copper where danced the cool drinking fountain oblong hotelling motoring past peaks, vacatioing aside the epic simile narrative to a dead heat never cocking your head hold back its various place not drunken ghoulish the smart ass the clear taste of the void
An accordian for your player. This then. Twirl around the plateau. Chop forth. Choppy.


she's heading... the full body of the earth

shes headingto her bodywithout organs stretching her navel neck
tinkering guitar strings reaching her toe and tail strummin her
full body of the earth
roar flow and fill its juvenescence hurrying wing of trimmed forest feel

Stochastic chasten'd Jill worke'd her Spinoza scholia, her narrowed forehead booked in the dark as any nervous cape brain drilled in out as her pumping oil

JiLl becomed embryonic point zygote blastula embryonic astronautical her carrying navel cord leashed in long yards. Back to her eden. Edometrium this room's her place its comfort her birth as this regular beat 's beating beatiing's her heart_ her hands paw shrunk to her republican plontinus her spectral wheat a breathing vein a piper to the height reality

Draughted air was her daughter/martyr


Jill: a barber's pole

works wrought feathers
its between teeth
word cup
their bare legs
winter's passing
over the sty
the wolf fold
its a deer hunt
mackeral to mace

becomes a tincture pad
eyes goin' dark her angel
fall fairin' field its a peasant's
hand grace the tearing of
buildings down wont
stop credit playing out
its heartless justice
jukebox to city


this tendence

Respite this tend_ance, her hat flipped over
voile, sideways like her hips ass wave to her high grade
aluminum wage of thin cress leaved to her gold nape

its Jill`s mander her bottle-neck
escape scuttle out to her dawn navy

Over ship and whalebone_d her billowy feather
not captured by orchid or bee, her giddyup and go
steals from her lover his best ones, her youth cruel as any stupid empire builder a whoreblanket american style
shes shipping shit and goo down her barrels,
knowing wheat from chaff like shit from shape,
its her american way
her american need to conquer and destroy plunder
the better of her weak .



after nY
after monas moved to toronto she stay in neWoRk city lIving inside of Moma. with Jill. who stay in Toronto ebbingbeside her.
she ebb the seward galvanitic.


Notes to Mona

he was transporting __ transpodding _ Franny . Rowing.

Jill was on a trasnsport _ valiantly cavalierly. Seditious brat of mouths. Back pedalling her harbinger. She became ASTONISH allegoric form of merry tree death of form endblissbecome of platonic form. Abhorrence was her vocal revolt. Mona was a soliciter. She studied law of formless hoveruin her politic absence.


what t is that hill

what is that hill Mona? shell fish to quay? boarding to pass over? is it so?
well hear it at the advent of present wounds not cartographed by literalist


has its for

property has something to say about object. Sheening the grief. A m angled sheep on the end of a vase. Not a naracotic haze of effects. Clipping the consonant. Forever the corrosive steel, iron to the paddy winks.

Jill where did it enter Over maximum replies pushed its agreement for sentencing. This is your first shore. Not the best enter to a palace of fireworks. Or emblazoned harpies.


yer subject

yer subject was hidden alcove not your narrative


she remember

One to two's a god in heaven leather waisted . Stick like that . Yer shirt hanging the well founded face come to see its mother. Another wears please me song. Wish to her fate her hand around my ghost air. Orpheus machinic to her Mona double-dare itto me self. Itto. Her vocal chording replaced by song.

She remember a step up the plate over the brothel tower Paris, swinging

stepping its town hall gathering glance. No, not again p. Lease. Justified fair ground. Midway between heap and cup. this tired woe's no end. insite and outta site


Arrive Place Vendome knowing language's caved off. Accents heard to run her off metro train . One to the other. It mixes and moment.



Legend has it w'e're closing in , Mona, working the weakedest think in the harrow. Jill beleaguered by pest and shame open her death wish to his salving not so the narrowing
body of her borne. Within and out the door of what is and what if she sallied.
Like any caretaker mother. Her nervous lip-nibble gave her away. What sort of espionage cinq-a-sept is she? ANyhow? is this the irish telling on the wake her dearing down to felt pen tipping? or is it generosity to a fault? So it whoas, so it go.

Orpheus came home his sleep-room double-backed with his twosome. leg arm
twined and twinned. she was preferred with a thought.


contend lover

the first time was
her mouth
talkin' to his inner tackle _ a valiant stir waxed

Jill creepe'd over stage reading leftward her logics of body
away her twisted caliper a squirrel face not trunked
headed hopped its checker move
inside her rifted

Jill knew everything like that.
A knife of courtesy to her sharin g debut
my darling dare who winked
of its wordsmith proud.


Sneak by gogosphere. as she wait on the hipping.
As she hipping on the stand.

something sail past her cunt. her ass of sail
whipping boy to her current.
the ThReE of them in Bed.

was bedded by delight its hearkened
garden a bever of lifted ear
a blissbowed kiss
bowered apple kiss


Shhh quoth Fanny we can camber here aftering
afostered hour return the play of sacking sent.


Head out hearken

Head out now lovelies. Fiction to forward. Leave personned 'a'hind not narrowed by the . It shine better my Mona. Or yer Mona now? Come off the wagon. its speciality is episteme bang bang. Sterling Pound 1934. Mandate_ d. there where the goliaths adore. plates of other repeating and say its columbus walks the Ohio. Say its the narrow liver. Or the molecule gone.f rom the cabby. Or dear. Ones.
each to a fellow.


O Come bet this Mona chill to her vaccumed bait. its sidereal fair time to her buddingespecialy finer limit. as thighs of mouth to mouth count.


now she

where fatigue opal mouth where lovers sucked.
dry its harping dread.

Jll`s doubled her back to see. HisHim is her Fanny to her doublebreasted cloak
coat of her tit lover to his mouth. Meow to his sending a pain of aching down
across her skimped stomacher. her hefted feet. around her neck. mouth to her
mouth sex his doublemouthed mother cry cry Oedipii Oedipii! there is no


this where burned two

Master! this burnished stone was
mouth after every meal
hovered by tune and parry its prey a sentence to . this snort. of air.
where demonsters and monstering water crawl. Its hoary gift chugged
to fair land ground hugged its mother pearl lust golden garden pent out by
lamprey and other short shrifted ghost.

Come to the bank of the Garonne for her lover.
She is Jill Fanny Fanny Jill Mary Martha
Orpheusjesus has hugged them bed.

fo teacj

for teach one its heart . come. the phraid. the pyramid.
sinke.d.its series. lent. pure. anchor its dessert. in the .
Missippossaloosa basin.its riptide.

Now loook loop one you have it . wrong. the looping lasso. raid.
cowboy. its senting its first . word. not secondary pate. I have blessed
your horse! Hey dey and dingle the merry book. Yer skin`s an eye sees me.

Cheers. Love. Epistolary boom! boom! remember me not! over marry hill.


wrought feather

wrought feather to her armature lesbian at the endgeing of rough
cart. spin the weevil of the wheel in the letter. By Jingo! _____Whoosh! it go!
and hoop-a-la! to breed the terrene time of merry mustering fallow.

not seared by lent otherwise her cracking goose
was black skin carried we the carraige to France
our hearty heads high, lover my double exed twin one

Mona`s festoon of fustian slipping gravity


darling fiction

Darling fiction come home odd bloggist o'er apartment flat feet _ sail its lip down hunker'd lane of belly button and slavic tongue Sing its long black hair as its linealong your nave is want want want


tCome to....

to the experiment text based sextexted thee deterritorialized text based labs are moving out side the expository abstractions machines start
desire-machines desire
day and night

undefined undefined undefined undefined Incomplete page. fragment on a taggle. no time. meet to bust. some maches work some tipple topple and bust. what? youI thought desiring-machines only work when they break down? well __ It did! I love you So relax. Author's machine comments . I let th rest go. Incomplete page. fragment on a taggle. no time. meet to bust. some machines worke tipple topple and bust. what? I thought desiring-machines Author's machine comments . I lith rest go. In__complete page. fragment on a taggle. no time. meet to bust. some machines work some

reall? yes really? over fakered dummy. Ventriloquist pause. As when Rause saw his part knock knock knock you kook
'worried' about plain and Come Mona sigh her bone trill

as when a

as becomes a

as when a become as a

as when a charted c at whiskers every hair her sexual fantasy picking cherry
and the slide of kidhood has seen its better day or this woman's head
frosted in his window crying out loud Nommy! Nommy! Nommy

she has gone with another the wave cry come

her hair's gotta be washed after she comes

is what her girlfriend hear. Hear the symbol of two hands cluttered one plain palm
hemstich to this barrier switched by the car

Curled ear of the wheelright the curve of the wainscotted room
cantilever'd exterior eve drop witch cap vaulting roof coffered belly ceiling drooping over head
overheard room before this that tarries the voice her self knee working den
pleasure's last post robbed of air the lay round me sleep

the red ship a boon to lightening sailors
echeloned cumulus piled overhead their bustling ladder
cleft chimney heaven's light

this & other place Mona's hobo home away

She's sought the 'original' kraft dinner
lyric bustle her dress orphan carnation to its cut frottage

Mouth minked the escapadoed verb


The nuns Fiction

Of the list please there are many here who study at Roma --here in the
seminarie --in the theologie and who are not unaware felix guattari and
gilles deleuze who have some written about theologie and of christ. why does
the mockery of theology apprehend your ideas. So not all are conforming to
the lawes of the magisterium, and many, like Hans Kung are wavering and
silence against their volitions. Aas I and others also are . Grace to all in
the list, and we are some sisters who are reading these radical
philosophes!so do not be too despair,but have your faith.

-To continue: for all of you who come to my gnostic
breast for nourishement from the double-sided sex.
: The three errors concerning desire are called lack,
law, and signifier. It is one and the same error, an
idealism that forms a pious conception of the
unconscious." This is for the dear "n'uns" of the
list. These sisters sound like they need a good old
fashioned catholic chastisment of the flesh. That
might clear their heads of this drivel. I continue to
cite: It is futile to intepret this notions in terms
of a combinative apparatus that makes of lack an empty
position and no longer a deprivation, that turns the
law into a rule of the game and no longer a
commandment -- Do you hear this Dear Buttocks Maria
and Sister Prudence?? --, and the signifer into a
distributor and no longer a meaning, for these notions
cannot be prevented from dragging their theological
cortege behind--insuffiency of being, guilt,
signification.:" A/O. p 111/ By the way we continued
this theme of the priest and the madness of lack in
M/P.. So dear ones, find a priest to fuck from behind
and then you go to the clinique for help. Or leave the
monatery and go read DeSade. Or marry some thing. Or
see the movie by Hal Hartley called Najda. Or the
other one with the nun who writes pornography for a
living and witnesses a murder. She still believes in
god of course, because that is not the issue Prudene
and you can tell that to all of Bernard Lonergan's
jesuit flunkeys. We know very well who he is, and who
DeChardin was. Do you think we would be so ill-read as
not to know? Come kiss the lips of Jesus, one two
three four fuck Jesus up the bum. Deleuze will give
your immaculate sodomtic baby.

With your great affection an


temperment and tuche

Temperment's modela tuche to faintover. A sweet mink around her neck.. . What? does it sense its presence round her ankle her feet pointing .. remarkable how music's used to ruin a mood but a moon pensive as death's give full marks... Classic and clinic, come here Doctor Sick I've decided to marry your legs... not this literalist when yer finished with pages. come my way logics of repeat swell the breathy ... from her mouth... classic body finish... north paired by lover grapple. Each of mouth to her sending. Over hill fell. the Clerk of penting . Here is the Clinique Janine lived in 4 year to capture her fine mark. Or she passed it as a subject rotating over the seul substance of what cannot be seen cannot be heard. Her well thigh, as the thigh torn thougth. Many t's paired Ireland's rare fortune .

This love of hers was true. As a candered knight. Hill tent to her top.


when the .... silly

When the knight 'got' silly like your shoulders, you wondered what the hyper commentary was about listening to them speak she saw her place in them taking. Her 'bio-graphem-e-y' stated this: ....Has been a performer, son daughter of Jean Genet, a confusing bio- graphy , . I can't remember what else I meant to say : this, Mona knew she was the person others took her not to be, she was in and out before they knew a word, before you could say twenty-two. That didn't cut mustard with Franny, or Jill, at least, not always, but Mona didn't live for other people in the end. The sheer stupidity it required, it asked was beyond was too much, those who couldn't keep appointments, broke and breaking them keeping a man girl waitin' for no reason at all were just not worth it. She laughed her Russian kerchiefed head off, her turbaned head. Off. It went. As when a diamond preposition has turned against the sky and there is perspective which will be gained by the gazer and her gaze....


when Mona and Jill

When Mona and Jill first got together they were students studying but now they were men, and men were women most of the time, when they let the waving boots of their skirts show, or when lovely waved curled faces spoke back to the bollard which held them to the ground of identity identity kit, gender, social insurance number, "medicare" card, grave yard number, high school graduating book, photos from previous lives and love, strange hotels from the dream, hot water bottle between the mud that Albert flungs__ hoping for the maritime people of the sea to win a war that could not be fought, not be won. And one and one was two when you won the fingers and figures right that made you count right as lisping number was her name and game, and O my love you are there O thou, when Mona Jill first saw her name in stars between the double disjunction of Christ and Jesus Oedipus and Jesus Christ Deleuze sailing out the window with Spinoza there to greet him as he shot down a bolt out of space into space becoming a crucifix flying falling, a bolt a crucifix shaped by Spinoza shaped figurine that waS Spinoza the old philosopher entering the grave with his name on the grave, shooting from out of the sky, a firing, a velocity, a hit, hit upon the ground cracking, sundering open : yes, Jesus Crrrhist Spinoza Deleuze with Guattari schizz-flows included, and when she saw that she knew her future lay in the future of men, and she said well I wont drink anymore, but answer your posthumously posed questions Claire, as I am your nomad bastard fathering - a ebb becomed man then changed sex of soft skin, asking her for a light, and she thinking it was a come on, if only she was, if only it was, of only it was Claire and the others. O My Parnet!! How many eyars ago it was seeing your book with him in 1977 or 79 when I was still with the big G, you can't get away from the Big G!



When Jill saw she was one, she saw two and the many others that made her one in one two two one two times two. She Mona in the playing field, and the Mona Lisa was her too, I mean as well, in addition, but thither and hither she sent her sound, signifying down the barriers of life and death, and she knew she was she-ed pas t the edification of Franny mothers. Not liked the othered ones, she had past her two and went her one. And like the One she was two, always adding an abstract one, and then a hyper-two for good measure.

"I don't even want to know there were men before me" she echoed and "I don't even want to know " "I don't even want [nor wane as well] there were women before me" That was not so sure, not-so-sure in her cupable way. Of lids and mouths. Too cheap to call that is not true. So Franny, I mean Mona, she said to her niveaued plastered self, her plastered columned shelf. Something like that, and not like that. Other thing.

Cupable inquires Mona it's the self winding project of the doomed disaster dons.
Simple as air inquires the roof. Of its shelving and dusk. Our name becomed behooved its one.


after she's bid

Puff to air steam jewel its hurt back .

After backing to back she's cushioned the thought gasping her leg. Tune to her
grasp she's grape lent to fait accompli . Laced by inventing a virtue of nec-
essity her paragraph's perfect pallor wondered her sentiment. Not a checkered
word to her eaved head . Piled up the clatter of her verbal festoon.
Pontoon to her sluggish river. Not a end in the manner it tosses,
but grave to its running hiatus, her hair is a blue sun .

Or dear the blue sun's yer hair. come over to the hamam
is that it? whisper arabesque to her coil.


Ulysses one fifty

Ulysses one fifty I saw you I saw you in two in strange distorted voices sawing zzzz zzzz then rings around the rosy the rosary beads and the roasting beads and roasting head of the virgin cannibal heart skewed on a stake faggots piled up at the feet Joan of Arc her sweet lips eyes eyed by my desire my cock lipped by her mouth I saintly Jesus sucked out by her I saw I saw you I saw I saw I saw and saw I see-saw

Will Jill and her stochastic Spinoza have approved and Franny and her entelechies have danced the ineluctable modalities of boats and seas with the yes of mermaid and murmurs of mothers in the roll me round the earth belly dada come rum-rum made me home Would anything had been so kind in the D of Libido and rodeo Rodeo not video around the sarcastic liver of grooved moved and tubed coasting under the side of the feminine rhyme and rhymster hipped by morpheme and deranged comfort O my feet my feet my feet! inside my blood and needles and pins is not the thing its wherewithal of zero and zany . O zero and Zerro! of chevaliered childerhoods. I have reported thee to the sun things like those must be heard to be relieved, and I am soft rift of cannibal waits. I am the heard one which peeled and peeped back his face, and she is the learned by the abyssm mysterium tremendum tremendyumdyum! Reeled by rivers and water wagons Not the summer long when Satan -- poor soul sod! -- deterritorialized the free moving energy of capitialism to make space for his evil soul -- porting his sad Protestant hat against the Catholic god of monotheism a disease like Mono Mono and Mono is high fideity you could say against sisters and mothers. O Ulysses be my shadow in this fallow rounding land of huggers and muggers!


legend has its years

Notorious legend has its year. As its day won't peep a second than it can . She's naked as the pipe brought by grace's feather. Walking the stair. The case of penned grammar peers. Or some signing off radio

Heft the back time, of her hips. And glued and other part. OR whole hankered by year.
Its slung back hip of her hauling you. She has yielded a catatonic knight.
Borne by wave and god


go over there

Go over there: nota _ blink to heavensky single noun force way teetering pour
of pupa ford.Combine the ray along. Come then. Over there. Not soft
given but hard channeled as tragic fare tosses her nape out.
she's Jill to her donna Madonna fate to her spring funnel.
Passing along a handful of hollows worked from c_

Say more anon


over the water

She's halycon of this summer air for certain its a peering thing. Majestic in its insousiance, its pledged feel of work and trust. A new summer _three blossoming castles on the river
bank as they bend into the sun, the trees. A navel of calling back to the garden river, say a feather drifted down stream bed when five pearls 're dangling in their face.


Fannyt o her admirers

In this city not a word said walk the weight of its period. Not a closer kempt spade chairing
the wheel of thought after thought Fanny's got control of the state. Not earthquake but other
howevers where bearing bill she's a city lady with pontoons galore. Her rattled hair, as any
hair dryer knows wont sit in place be still wear its performance off sheen the darksome
brutal of river. And races borne by calumny won't cracker her forest egregious crowd.


nothin g original

nothing origin al please no narcosis and veil feeted by fear . its the swinging between lemons her thigh. not the air-borne trace of her wing. trading on vested fox and wetted hill shouldered piece when her hand slides along the ribbing of her cage as lament .

knowing when is the key.


she's graminvorous

She's graminvorou as hearty wheat. Quip of shape. Earnest feet. Sore toed. Corned and bunioned. She bucaneer
boat wile. Over the odysseusus. She frontispiece to her covert mantle. She serenade investigative processual tic of her trade. Gazebo and porous hinky-dinky she's walking the branch of wet water. Sauntering the elm oak, knackering off the tine . She's middling the grass as toting the wear. Its not mineral or fakery . Its she there. As the stare won sea.


Ruffed & Jill

Make it fit and fir in the stay of desire the man mooned back, over her back's swum feel, the flush and salt of its alpahbet.

Mona gotta halter top a bikini bathing cap shes wearing Picasso socks and maiden trainer shoes. Is that so? yep, you got it bothering the raided pink of diamond soled feet.
She say Like that it moves, waits, halts
mute then, muttering the cryin'
a little song when the sailor noses out the stalking
of the face's stem its flower and lariat true lovers sneak across the street, past
a dump over a hill a finer eclipse than your last near patrol of calm lent and its five thousand soldiers freaking down the gear of war __ in the war they work at pat at games and death


are they

are they aether? arterial game over the looking of the siege
near its dearest opinion of desire flow backup over the recording surface
cares a face carefree in the cafe, she hold banter not further
from where Prof. Jill hold forth. She hold forth her heeled skit
to his heading away flight. come on! she wants to give him
logic of lovers for xmas morning with rimbaud gathering his bodies a thousand sexing hour to his love lung wheeze hoah wheeze hoah wheeze hoah _ or a blood vein cutting the simple fare of its weight, not boldened by creek like wavering or borrowed blinks of thought. she pares a knife
to his shaping franny want to fuck him badly as handing a mille plateaux to his flour bed,
alone solitudes. mother to his mere mountain caboose to his tom thumb tilting his updside

over going of nave she saw his heel. like any clean simile he ferries the cute flame of its poor
body to his only only only malarkey.


she has found the welfare goddess in his eyes.


harvest meant

__ meant climb the wheat fields lock the lent down borrow the purse clear the share stocks for tomorrow glom the wheat down what is the preparedness for by way of husbanded flower stock and wheat?

over the hanky panky Anterior to your gone. She mustshe must open the kit stemmed by cell over lean to parody. Real repatriation of this self of yours was chink and chunk . Something your hand knew, around his, or the halo tongue of wheat. Speak like Puritans not putains, something as dear as necrology and the hankering after astronomy not aboulie of these staves. Each rudiment of the flower stood by itself at the conference.

Jill has many merry friends She will never go to Afghanistan neither as entertainer or king picker. In her study with Fanny near close to a globe her buttocks dry as any carpet it glows the air besideher alcoved maid. Not hither and gone but thither and unafraid . To live.



break'age the apartment _ shattered. the cops gone. the hair pressed .

Jill foregone . Investments pulled. Harumskarum won't hold for this differAnce of her relayed gratifiers or her murmured meres. Ceremonial

ticket taker. Shun the single argument. Is this a microphone for god sake? Landsake! woman where is your repetition? she hankies question.

Swivel mate call thy name. Farewell ducky your plane is gone, the ether. Has worn its payday.


cutting strata

Mona needed to find some one else who was whole so she could with her hole -- genealogy of wisdom is what she was after in the days and songs of her cunt -- Mona won't be going anywhere with her dread[ful] desire machines -- stick my prick in her mouth -- make desire shouts its name -- scream fuck me baby, fuck my ass, hold me christ, fuck my face, hold my ass, tighter don't forget , love me baby; said Mona on her way down the fireman's pole that was not a phallus, a phallus of clapping and fire not like the underlings of city mayoralty campaigns; no, what does it mean; its the dream of your lips ten years aftering and before in the intertextual kiss of your lips; buried head in her hips, mother jewel, no, not like Mona bliss


jill heard about a flourish

She minds reminds fate number from another life time
love flowed like the numbers of the day and
you were there -- but through this scrappy life of mine
nothing's been clear

Some wig shouting:

"this isn't much of a poem is it , with weak hands
weak feet weak knees not knowing what to do next
not knowing which way to go
hearing the great roar in their graves
and past"

hauled him up in a basket to her love
that was love like in the old days
goes on now and heard the trumpets

Flourish which calls its name

Jill heard about the great coupled called History and began to love her name and named her love and when A and C were seen to her she saw it was their fortune to love faithing believing everything was a rivered possible laved with the intent of their force sex and .. So it was and she was and saw; and One piece it was of a garment ripped cutting her face and breast for love of him and his loves. O Jill O Mona who loves history in her hindmost parts. What a racket and racketting it was to Love with a capital or not a knot to twist and turn sinew your pages of stealth and health. Not like this thing the lunatic lover and poet shamble and shanked by full moon and hangover vows from the monasteries. After the primal dance the monkey the ape of love ape me. My One THousand Plateaus.

Or something like that. You see honeylovers, the bellloud trade.


a cool communisit is borning

a cool communist is borning come hither weather she/he fond its hand
palm upward to his heads down eye up cut angle of profile
not s immering to his sister cousin he looped a bridge to her
tying feet
one two buckle its pediment

is this fate her face borned down wind leeward to his case

she fated the night of old silver patterning her song around his waist.
come up close to the bloc the becomings of his tented fine

Franny feathered the willow .
elm was not a seat to push button.
camber to her juice the flute of becoming.


is this moon?

10 4 is for yer good times. her ass, her ass, is a gold mine. breath-taking.used to be . anyhow? right Jill ? is this buttock the pair of clarity of fortune the thought of god swinging high round the


more mouth later


Mona recumbent

Mona recumbent incumbent, the devils of talk waited the stage of history the bloodied children, screaming the rag of coats grief scream of voice many. cannot say.

you know a victory short, the devils, win , where got its foot in the face, threats by bad guy always against good guy create |

numbness in the face, bomb whistle overhead, missle crash blam, tank rumble smash
smash rumble smash rumble rumble smash this house this house this house this ceiling will crash 'll crash 'll crash the kid inside the women the 8 kids the the 7 women the female speaker of the house of the death of baby but democracy will tout its honest ethical trsyt of bodice the direction of Commune the direct of the characters scrawled headlong over page, listening to the bodies and inthe Strip brushed by death by death by death brushed by death by brushed heading down death its the time to end its seizure of lie and lie of baby crying in the head, one can, of Senate and heart, the House of Commons and the bay, over there the ship bounding the death walk, the bombs walking along the shore, where is the
people that walked the lake of Love and protest?
is she incumbent to love_ all colour all creed all walk

all faith

_ Now get out of there by midnight tonight _ curving Moon of Love
_ Curved Moon of Love
Sweet one of thy


Jill sociali...

Jill sociallist democratized her vocabularies calibrated lover of her steep claps her calilper crowding the satryr stage.

She won howeve, we gathered the grape of ornate , to hurry the air winning against the big money gangsters. But war wont work our tepid make up to death....

our troupes turn a face of war to the profiteering of disaster. You have found rented children on the street.
this are the disaster of war
not the plenary session
of your indulgence


you came there over the wheel

Machines of revision. Mask of _ not the amble beep or the bend of vale and whiff of currant. Revision machines. cut over fold. drapery of cough. You seek steel . In.

Jill's tail of a comet! imagine this auditorium where gawking up into star light affairs of heaven's weird firmanent hearing laughter language bending into the word guessed her elbows, and gleamed bronze hair. Is that possible? not only possible she baby, but likely.

other side of the curtain

otherside other sidereal not meant for the hoarfrost gallow s group as pensive Jill reneges, relents her paying pen


she has worned

she has worned her honour


shes worned the honour wondered the worn of honed honours bearing on the fort the fortissimo of going and treasuring . what spunk's shadow forges her baying cant field the honour of her second. Seconded by river and beds or war's double-player she phone speak from her head had, its orient fuzz not a peeler of cabinet, but lent and its ever-steady truth. Call of the perfect pluperfect, laced as glooms and eighteeth century castles. Something about not using place, as Gothic cathedrals sense, or saunters a catheter body damped out on clothes-lines hung drapery eternity's cutting matrix. Orpheus hold the whale Orpheus can't back a sheet of paper in her eyes, her sexing not a bite, but a becoming of respects, molecule to her trove. This'll be sick but love's boom biting grooves in her harem. O shitty bordello of crappy meals and lunch time with a cigarette, big buttocks, buttery buttocks chunked out by cave like lichen and rearward pants to tally the overture of rain. Excuse this essex of incensing lathering the torture of seated pants and other pillows to frighten your face, by a kingsize sister.

Love's stretching sister's done the dunes, heralded the deed, seized the land.


come to

come to here, a century late. Oedipus plus a mother say come to this. shoveled face back of wig. talks the weed blab. Excuse this horse Orpheus. Pardon the glance. No, shuffle the decking over the hedge bar. Architrave its mackled throng. Of boatrings and gatered stuff. Shift Mona_Ooona come here this theorem. Some of which? shall fizz this wheat. We have wheat . Again. The gathering hair.


Is a thief

Is a thief bending to her prey the sudden day its murmur over wall appearing lover to its sake forsaken its grief . Ton of torn sack the city's fair wind-up watch reaches the forwarding furthest pass. Not a second too late, you were born not knowing. WHen your turn yer name goes off. Wait its willing ache spins back to your palm calm as reef in rigs's fortune paved to a second round glittering the foster jewel.

Franny has Jill Mona has no one you 've made yer bidet clean it , foursome. Love.


firm cough'tt cough'tt

cough'tt cough 'tt Mona emphysema blues hair long fortune and absence of tripping university of shower her plover

No more was her said Head to her graceous endometrium. Plunder of the only moment she afforded got purchase around her round not a true narrative barreled its plate strange coach to her love bite hr button down up shoes white as any spin came clomping to her shoes lush as ducky swan feather gaits.. Silly this is when luscious plates of green pea soup bear their ice when the paw the lover felt whack her ass shirks the endless retreat and she beckons her broad's back bare

See Jill See Jill state See Jill state easier as pumpkins pie.



Open yer mouth alligater!` yer prestigiditater 's passed you paass her too U whimy cow! is this Krishna! get a god!


Open yer mouth alligater!` yer prestigiditater 's passed you

we will come back back to here as wind to sail curve to canoe and svelte nymph of the high

astounding thing. when Jill Heard Mona, that was the key|

a key part one of erring cal_ hmm something there, leaned
in the breath tobaccoed . Hmm 18th century ruffed
collar heroine of the sword keeping vain.

Mona' s boyfriend's come home.


sit by you

stir sire stir sit by you sitting as chain think glissando of deliquence of the cupcake breasts



resilient silence Mona montage cuffed . Or lanky head. Brain ass couple by prose docking one stanza over to the next train but a whistle between each cleet. Her tap a rap tap knowing the full well her hail-will days are willow, is that elm, banking plane
calypso of sound thrust

parting the relent wave not so saying its heart is navingated rum



Backwater to her health and Id her i.d. libido ontario to my sake

Subdued as rock. Leather heart to whinge as its played over. The phone of your voicing
its leather word. Cool and cocooned, its slip place laid . Into the condominium they roved.
Dialogue of lover in pants and jeans their whole house caught up. Its where they spoon their supper and earn their bread!


this wish

this wish was wash to her tendering legal counters, leg over and humdinger to her swine smooth space rough strata

say head over heel varnish of lyric heels palm-mate palmetto or something like Callas to spring-hands sportive as sprocket to kind lockets.


mes ami_cales

Mes ami_cales this dust is dream. Cornered of bare wood. the frost makes wave. Shes got a canned air to note opera and other spitting creatures of her lover's body. Wantin to eat his name, she's waned by hook or crook this clockward bearing word. Baby to her mother's merd, she wont capzise her deadbeat so called song. What shite is that, she ask the genre master of mixed media blisses....

Mona is pregnant.



Tread the depth stroll/crime et histoire, not over here, close as your face must mask. death _tap waken cord of bo
a moor over the head. ferryin it past methuselah and he is wondering what happen'd to her head, when the sex got good. Mona does not speak Latin,and English it's not her favourite tongue

and were lovers be _comings the cut lace over her hand. She wait the day for the strata to heave
open where her radiators can get in and workingthe moment seize her 'carpe deum?" As a host you understand this perfectly well ushered by the pane of the gothic forest. not teared by its need, but silhoutted by its badinage. Not bandage! skimpy wear the two of them to bed.
they were lover be. come over the Notre-Dame cathedral and a rainbow's innocent queen has had her day, to say not a noun of her day. She had music in her bone. Painting was her blind man's mask, not a starry year or thread to mark her wasting page.
Mona rings. Give me a bell, a bell. Give me a bill, billeted and seconded by marshall wide clip the church of her eyes, the nave of her sex. Jill reminds her: I've always, my darling, been your fir-woods, clapboard to any weather, and apartments without fridge and stove.

So over the plateau they tarried, monk and praise, from every particular parry.


come to your R of

Come to you Repeating story of the larval subjects '_Home akimbo one night she find a worthy wearing down. nota tracker or mate to feet its faggot of brush burnish and side. or body at stake or Piedmont her foot of the hair of the cat which licked her. Jill wont know and notice the smell of death till it hits her five flights along the swivelling air, highway of the death, she cannot bear so coveting her neighbour 's knee she kiss it good by. Madame Spinoza come my wak e , Please!ranny

Franny foreward note to death heap of brown sack on bus, other ass walking and stay. over to her hairdresser, she spell doom for the orthographer of it, Madame Aristote. Clefting key, her wake ,
close to Daddyio Deleuze's demise, Franny's rise. a switch a roo if ever you've heard of one. I dont read snake and batter. I am jewel thief to you yoeman of the tongue tied way. Waybill heard me no end to its heart, its shelter its bee beyond paradise and sHe. Moulded for the fact , of its evanescent.


hip cup

She Franny run was.... a hippy cup a hitch-hiker punketerariat lariat fouist embedder embracer ebbing emblem of mime to her Marxist thumbnail, her hat taking her hat skirting and skitting, the membrane of __ whoosh! whoosh! its travel time! She has been many travellos in her thing of blissing memory and mermaid of Mae West and Lacan to her signified rift reflected she felt a maze at her Sartrean partheart. Laggard to her heat, she does the dumbshow of coarse kettles languid days and what else? can you say about her she compose a mode of its outwhich way

Now take that in yer leg of papa deleuze to her talking billyboots, a kiss to framed the postcard never sent, Oh yes, no receiver sender back to playbill.

Mona on stage. World stage no less. Her perfect frotting and heeling.

So then, Miss Knight see that. And pent yer selves up. Low and down right mean hearted. But not always, not, always.


tiny giant

wreath tiny its airy dance, a catalogue of bruises and antelopes hinders the tree line or elms burying woods where dying coarse ones do what they do they do they do. She appears startled by rain apparitions and cowboy lovers hitting the high hips of horses. Is such a thing likely? is a mixed buffet garnering her dutiful dinner? she's wearing knees and socks doing all the things good girls do, when they do. Summer in lover, winter in her cave. This is the case for social becomings, their economy frustrated by the plaster'd furtive fruit of hunger, its baloney sandwhich not quite, never quite doin the trick, doing the trick of hip havens and goodbye homes to her lover's feet.Something made in Italy along with home onthe range and other trick higly regarded bullshit moves. Like that, like that this you See Anti?

Dogs can bit lambs crawl at their feet like stolen yappers, muzzled by tom-toms and cheap brazen hostels. Not that that worked, O Jill of the seven pens . And more Or more, lover more

Dogs might be mizzled muzzled and moderated, but not love, not love not lust.

Some cliche spent its nickname on this choice.


arive like any other shoulder

a rive to plein tears. mona shacked wit h its orient sleeveoff this ShoulDer. not parative
wd. con.letter o'er outh. it keepe. s'ake.
ov. Jill & her glided coat of pignifer. shall
it pickle wheat? to father the sow?
makes lovE to maryMother ASsumpt'd to
couch lass. sackerdanvenzetti.

like any other shoulder
a tear to lean
her field of gold was ploughed as stir.
Sir, meaning?
Love at first bite.


no bird call

no bird call s please

Ive clipped the heels from your drapes. Or drapery or say wishing bone on spelling bee _ or my wheels lit the fire in your hen_ or pen_ as in
repenetentiary _ no, not that. other weirdo onthe dock, resolving the problem of S. not as Tristan in the sell down approximate appointments of his

becoming is not imitating~~~~~~~

this ensign was over at Vico's mirage. caltrops shivered the feet _ or crumbled elephant rampage and walking against state police anarchists _ conceivable bodies bituminous water
no so so but So! sew .

flung on the road in front of cops! shank! hurt! come to be my baby in olden time was hearing distance aid oH lover.

come this thief _a nanny goat's beard, or some mountain walker and next a camera yield, not the 'flow' lay or crowed black bird s in the heaven.
sent west. Westward wattle gaze and over her his shade watching . holding on holding. Holding ? she come to throttle its page.

Mona has dare seen it s heart. Incomplete tea.


in the for end

The voice is free __ phonematic of desire wing. Huff_ed dog. Chopped lamb. of the god
purgatoried to Lent. Shall will its shall be's for compte exterior. Not the swallow and its Asiatic moorings. Camped by the caliber of choose. This was it thing to devil the uselful cage.
Despotic as it was in the seconding epic simile of contre-page and its the usefulness of things
which count. Avoice bellow. Not sofa inside curlicue of effort. Each for self! not so the hurray!

End these private reterritorializations. Crystal of cement. It's a polyvocal hangout for your bird, yer boite de cinq heures. Jump! Spin! A hole inthe moon'd never become missed by its predicate to your form dear. Machines to your doctor. Dumb hand of the folk spirit of rain and peasantry. Shame shame shame. Its myriad mystical form. Opal valleys and cement. Cheers to clear. Its clinging your shame your knees. A daffodil would know better how to peer covering asses thighs, say juice your forearm . And your face this face of suzerainty.



number 11~ is drift wood blank sheet stepping representative cunning as silence begriff its peat. o'er city and dale meadow and blog. bounded by red bird boskage and the flamboyance of air feathered gather. not simple t's that corrode eyes, corridors which turning turn the eye rut in head's gleamed space. or secular boo-hoo and tea , taxi combs to garter belts pulling up her socks. her sheet of ribbons and yes to her love one come to her inside head hear of will and sea shades counting off cloud liking shape on the sofa a lapse in kissing offers her thigh to compell the balcony watcher to her gifting sex of habit and her throng of body rose to his.

Fanny cover the trellis . Fanny rule the alcove pantomime . Jill her lover, and he, the one , her both her his their his, their own He, Him. Sweet double one owled geranium.

An exercise in flutes or cambrioles, petalled by the hour, its flurorescent wedding carved by the pulse of her hearing.


what is it

This was voice to her assault. Or spalying thing to its rabbit ears. Not knot, tied suit. Its gyp. never or then now was the grape swipe. She meditate on its frame wreath to over its matching walk to me, in the sunset of her arms. What is that, Mona, ferrying the second hour of love, like no other, simile to her dusk. Jill to her at dawn, upending her sex tuilip or lyric cutting zither, lyre to her bending bow. Feed the birds they also stalk the ridge come riding riding her hamdown stray to her goat, moat of wood to hammer down the place. Back to the city, she went, radio to volkswagon, jewel to her cylinder, stamen of its rose, not a deer in the path, road to its closing hope.


manic bow

Her manic bow to her rain pouring Jill cluttering apples, cul-de-sac, regret rat. In the dry bosom of her off the wall quartier water faucets, roam its spare kine pleading for more help than she can afford. Her bliss is telling others to mind their care over the library. Her father, marriedto the chief of warlords, hazards guess, second guessing her lover's coign, her breast, and feet narcotic to the gaze entrace where she nailed her body soft whip of naked to his . Call it convulsive. Next loin and loin always treat the dark hour of sailing. She has crayons to bob her apple teeth. These are not naked shuffles we're thinking. It's the wench naked as the billy goat disfigure by eyes or breath that cannot speak. One more down, six more weakens the chain as orange levitates her marriage vow. This shrub shriven as it is wont fit well to her 'culture.'

immanence of praise

Jill Mona, Fanny_ to her ass, the blue buttocks of its honey, kiss and raise, kiss praise and lock the funny seat in its gauge . Excuse you? fair what? dimple knight, or pirate to this rigadoon over blackley laid on forests in the back yard, coming over brick dust to his pagoda of looks . Her books.

Mona, knows Oona would say rocking word
past path
of glimmer
over over
over immanence of praise and praise of innocence, she walks ants. fated by hungry bears in Europe's last slack. tea spoons coffee cup, flask in her hip joint she balance cup cusp to her spring to come her lover. Spring coming. O is that so it sorrow to her mocking bird, wraps the gap up in her hand.


clocking the river

Mona gelid, fetid,
overthe care, catering to
stick stock forges
come on shimba sickle yerfork
its young dumb gets yer goat
nanny an' awl
like the heel of a thumb
subway coming n all
stuff rigging
stuffed riggin in the two patch tone

Mona clocks a navy boat
round fennel to heart skip
herald the catatonic pieced
penned off the wall
not getting the machinery of love's take
its giddy-up gue she kick ice flummery & acidnine pens
cambers a shirt decks a cloth

entering the fiction what Eye bend
ing a personae eye-glid
elide thing?
No one's neurotic'd her tig befores
she wont stammer her fat pate for
come taker to her dig
and dags

if'd inside the flictionher affliction
affects deadening-eyelid the maelid
over the subway under the subway
by grand trunk pale scar she wined
her finesome fay come comes to too two

this wear clothes

Mona hound dog wracked the seven servers searching her love, the debs and daubs of highway founders dint nicker her route off the 'beaten' trail. Say, a what do you call it,_ something they did t'a initiate her in their fellows crawling down the trees whoring the woods, and would-bes or could have whats, and the sample players of choice free word in the verb of cunning old fort_ tremble poorest of the lot.

Mona puffed, huffed, and sprinkled her sea bed down the worn heather of her gorse, its piled-up mace. Notthe eerie visage of her love, lover and brooking no tenement inthe saw tooth moon!

Frowns she does at door placed lower back gaze stuck in the eye-way half zone of call . Or tusk and the tinest thinnest udder. What variant of solitude is it? She determines the Phaedrus curls the wing of truth, mayhem and din of her other featherd self. Poor as a cherokee Indian in a time before plinth and politic amazes her stealth, her poor beast aback main. Jill says
No its interior decorating in hell. Samson googles the tenement to see if she be home, her cell phone paging back Oddysseus and the homer by rent queen of epic long river and / Her skin is black. Her philosophy boudoir tent in christian ears to kingdom come for ever now and guffed future,guffed fugitive.

A respite always forces her to pause.

apick me up_2

you will be all lovers limber to your bold body__ 'ivro de como se fazem as cores.' extradite this lover to her shoe.or trope the sublime instant of its pour of rain its weak ending. Now Jill was not very near the tiptop of the plateau, she hankered after wheel and bleak forest next to a wharf. Was a wharf her nearest pain? Why would it be any other way, Claire? Come to this wild his body merited in the forest of song. By day and dogwood heard the cowering meadow over the end and then sent the way of cloud and mirror which helding the lake becoming next its flush tumble by the end and then it works by skits of play now next to the number of its pulling. Or inside the echo of its other selving, or close to the table of its profit and then over by the building hampers where moving toward the end it was known to see its arrival and train departing and this open hand that you see and known its body is yours coming over the round and seeing you there its yours and always was you looked peering its knight by folded letter coming to find me after this last spent of your thighs .
she forged
classical tachygraphy clipped to his heels not a pasted hand moulded by fire.
a pick me ideastrollye to the [e] verisimilitude of . moment. ove.r. gravity.

& lumberin g activity . not shined to the hour 's moment or its
and and and.

some play ground is this. Say Prof. Deleu...ze .

come my daughter arrive en paris.
Genet there. Miller. come to the fire Lawerence. language

sez Its Lenz!

quietly quietly. over to the beta ground.
beatified. of undirect discourse. oveR
the ceiling the telescope s bending.

ridge like. little molecuels. cape. escaping.
word . form. play de formation.

------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------
is this anyhow to treat a text. over
the deconst_
No not it~! I shout.
coem to the lip ass
blanking the staring moment


here to this go commune

here to this go commune smooth as rearward glance
its a scheme of optic vision rattles its fare not stoned by cloning gods and father marx fluthered by herring-bones and tweed simple sentences of
closing trades angel Angrinon the park where weaving
gaudy guards thrive


Jill not get rid of that coma and everything will be fine


here to this come

here to this its then its ten in the plateay capsule of feature gasp of then its hungry year a tugging tornado its pain worthy grasp of next to features does not bear examaning. Oh prophecy of the that dabble or apple gilted leaf. Not sugar or brown honey eyed your wide awake to this alert. This song of your tail lights, hovering in the distant body, of your choice your choice, the choice , cutting around corner and adjectives not slicked for its pen, but chosen for its breadth.


the _oria

Theoria came to the table her rent was paid, not with hair
but butts, she knew this was not clean. Clear as the radial
day might be, or become her commentary found no
discourse in the Muse's 'diadem.' Standing near the
flux of all time and space her clog was clean
her whistle was white, her eraser was tender.
not a lover's blank, but other things
such as eight days a week, or soft machine
or branched out banker and Indian women and
me made love. what?
indeed__ what?


sometimes it was the air, or other summer clouding
airs that hung her pasture to dry and she was the email
queen of thought, her anger a passion to delay her death.
she was waltz the street of St. Denis, the french cafe
and her hurdles hung her off, she was hurrah huzzah!
and beauty of stranger s hung her buttocks to dry!how disgusting said Franny, can you get yer cheeks
out of the way? what hussiness on yer part leads
you to such flippant goatee beard, and when I was a cigarette
you were very sweet indeed. Come over. I am your Ulysses
bound package for .


the worse of all were not named


Jill gotta squeeze on

Jill's discourse went as that "its always interesting to see contemporary use of machines text. difference between desiring-machine, as our father in Spinoza taughts d the weak use of the new media or the machine-generaters lead to weaker commentary and writing- Sheesh she smile, garters akimbo, a swayed down ass to his eyes, ___them dont know_ tradition she giggle __ polemic run through _ as a bullfighter's tap__ 21st tend to resort squablling excretion excretion.

She shaking her butt! high ended, low assed buckle seat style! of oriental full!
In a like minded, spirit, we re-create the exretions of secondary strata of parnoioa personal polemics mushing the way of whine collage would be video and especially prissyenglish collage. one notes these matters.
with love and gusts of rainbow kisses
to lucky link his puissant feathers of flock together coventional image display and cutesy deployment of colour. enuff to turn the eyes of most viewers away in boredom and horror. so ti goes but we know its all love in the kind caring desire to grow as the schizo flow wishes to emerge from the dumbnesses of predictable collage makers and their shaggy generators. Hail Hail the gangs all here, so muck and ruck thy weakdumbplatest to rubber vanities of pluck thy headish gooshgash up the arse of fiddle fump foop.

Deareder shower the rain with genre of of of of of rain rain slippingthe yuletide festive up his fundament .

As for effort of repetitve bleeder seconde rate imitater, and false pretenders, we Contend! thy boredom a banished pool of wax!

of Jill and.. shelves...

Of Jill and her shelves, the feet, the effete night hanging its drawers the tell-tale night of novel pistons and rubbing wrist or hanging vines d then the stopping breath over the measured finger and the mountain which whoops and the lay over tight arms against sea like vision or vamoosed trails upward into smoke like saddles and mothers which speak. Is this Antioedipus on her trail, Antigone? The night? the ram wheel? The mountain goat, the giddy up sheep, or humdingers moving along the balustrade arabesque and maybe her puppet eyes or dancing shoe and over there the scent aromatic as wending decanters clocks and corner with crammed fellows or following the narrow wheel to the ending. Mona breathes her taps to cincture the plate, cinching the formula it must be a pyramid that keeps her back, omnivorous as love.

Now she pedals fruit with her disillusioned vocabularies dictions of mock chicken in her veins or the opened board of the tune and

Speaking before night was the way it sounded as it came
to this its rush and hamper by the way her breath gambles the page
not trusting its truancy grabbing her heart near to any ship
sipping the hour and harming the feel of her cuff and ankle break
not a chance egg but the sportive fist going through the window
of the sky not hammered by the gallery and glance of these
wishing places when Mona multiplied the odds tinkering each
pleat to suit their taste, knowing full well angelic deities
did their best to quiet fate not the hand maiden of the lord
but its rather fractural patron of the cloud and its hammering opposites

Make up my mind, will you? She hovered baking soda close
to the trellis

what disillusioned barbican is this?


there could

There could nothing more dumbphased than your death, its awkward awakening giant kidding its thumb, or sucking the nape of ruffians, and rascals who bear hate, as their daily gruel. She's light on the loafer, isn't she, her sex rinked by cloths and burial gowns. Gourds to filter the sun's sky, pomegranate drip to yer juicy finger.Flexing its page. She sex him her_ed by the hour of pregnant. Belly to her cutlass, stave poach, parched as a cement centime poker . In Paris, we lift barrels, marking the lath, sudsing the keen willows, which bend and ape their glance toward aging widow wringing salons. Hooker bury dead, hip to lip pleasure of the forgot bereaved soul. Not a sentimental callow, but a ragged cement of its roadway.

Franny pledging

Franny pledging pedigree or off the wall cuffs bakes the coda somesaulting her wind. Now that sound like narcissum cooked for over and ovens. Jewels to clatter the air. Winding the petal, or the fault loan, .

Pounce for her typhoon the reckless sailor mated her sword his chilling spore worn away by sprockets kenned to release sore wicked concave of her mirror, his only cutting ice, to her yield. Will be knight to her infinite faith, coward to her deism, shackled by rain forest sundries . Or winding sheets to mother his cows. Now burying the song he comes to her ice and blizzard, cover me to her blankets and rugged pillows. Now words hug the amen its moment.


over there

Over there its here, the Atlantic village of pigeons, the aviary cutting the fast forest. Its linger lion pool or forested by keys and death, the not speaking, untalked by rounded wheel, when the first knock rang. Tick tick and howl its beat, to choose the salt, over the pepper, inside the thighs, thehips roiled in the mud caked lane. And this body was cutting dust eating cake for breakfast , the Ganesh elephant a 'pluriel' god type of deification fictioned to the harpooning of its sense of predatory smile, kilometre and kilometre .

because you cannot run around again
breasts lips eyes, you rule them and the breath
hefted forward to the plane talking lair

over here

Second time hearkens the vase. Charred chariot of wheel. Peregrinate the fostered child of enfant walk. Over here the taxex 're greater her mouth tucked into the death of its soft. Not shambled by the ache , of cut heeling. Sank a coffee right down your mouth, and then some. Mona ships the pail, covering the fruited ground in its righteous justice carrying its maze back to her home. Over Paris staircases they gather hankied to its bit puzzle, or mizzened by wheat, and then strawberry glasses, and counteracting changling she orphaned as any pane of glass tilt the up and clowing her upshade covers her flank. This could her last city _ breath out sigh and breath out bracken and hear the violins tear violas.


the very limit

Jill__ the very limit of a body_capitalism _ smile to cherry wood. rotten or wrought by bound flares over tree and varnish, clatter the untold wound, spoon of delta and ray-fish, fish-ray? is some sheep of darning wool cut or swen by hole-holey-hole. ring around the teared out cicatrice

Jill polished shoe shine accusing of class tropes_ gold tipped lip lighter_ ash gray over the eyes of her saffron lips gray gold as night . sees the ringing ringlet of penumbra.

Of mama many there is one~ you then turn the stair.

no doubt

Mona never transferred a thin gin her life, the undone hills and mating game were not for her. knot for her tiding navel cord to bind unind and bond. was she seeing things in the dark, or wasting away the channels of desire along the serendipity of her becomings? coitus interruptus?or no coitus at all. the galas the gals the glass saw darklya letter to permutate your skin, her perfume, the death of songers and writers.

For we must ---- we are not knotting the lude of pains rift... not delude ourselves--- our selves the beleagured and daring... "Doctor Freud" doesn’t like schizophrenics___ why not? she is schizmhero to my best self. Janine & Mona the wearing tuckeroo! Or tuck the fold of yer nape, the bucaneering fawn of something something its preposal of column word miss... or expectation on the calender... no he does not .... He doesn’t like their resistance to being oedipalized__ Dont cry Mummy when anal sex is yer path past Aunty Oedipi or the blocagage of ism_ grammar halt before steam _ before stream of puttering path __ trends to treat , and tends to treat them more or less as animals__ ,mon animal my animal speaks to gentle genuflect the arching wheel... words or things take missied in the eye of the hand of the lover.... he says.... They mistake words for things, he says_ she does not say she see or hear:. O really? "They are apathetic, narcissisitic," and who not be or kiss the narcissus flower of those cut off from the socious and its " cut off from reality" what night or real in cities of war? is culpbable of death? "incapable of achieving transference" we dont wish to be transfered to trains and death death death .... I philosoph of resemble and not yer high thigh close to my chiar Or Mummy on the bus, the love butter... they resemble philosophers—‘an undesirable resemblance' to becoming the lady O Diotima in the night of Athens and its break down dagger in her back. O mother of dialectic of this trash and teagown O thistle there has been many....

O treasure in the arm of your bay your lintel your little one.... night night...


in J

In J the walls were like ruth creaked in wild. Or beast of saint satting by grand river sliming the rapid. Or rocks fired off ,whistled shuttters shut, clanged closed, solider s bearing down with arm and fat gun cupping hands over mouth plastic bullet slide faster than second of nano hitting in the shoulder of kid, and kid, or kid with scarf . In the jail stink and sweat and east west all three gathered in confession of portant protest. Not here was Mona's bed, her jewel eye feast of death. The Greek girl sways her kirtle her feet hair acorned up in the coiffure the sky. Hovered. Its darning wool. I am your son of lovers, come to my fuck split in seconds helicoter buzz dirt up in eye scratch hurt tear-gas its mustard weed of death. This is what they call home. Fig trees and loafs of bread, garden, pool of blood the winding road, out over past the cafeteria, the darning wool red cross. In J, the walls are like this, and then other medieval towns surge their hatred, cutting down the dead, as She seek its mother in Mona's heel, the transomed plane of consistent fool's head, the death rattle, the rats at the camp.

praxi s poesies

Mona drilled the dryad harken'd to sweet tooths, its merrisome meet. encounter
.of. over headland and shipping mates. the short so soon life. of her hangings
drapes there was few between the coloured crayon and pencil. leaning on
a cash register, smokin g her cloud mist. as only a lover do. the double helix
her sapphic plate the boygirl girlboy her boygum to his love hand. handing
hamadryad to her kiss in the deep window arms around shoulders
rotating, falling clothes, its hip miss and hit the clung neck,
palming face rotating shoulder over her slip off cloth

here kiss these breast she say
these nipples upturned


it is how we kiss my love
saturnalia street the avenue


desiring-machine please ring ring

desiring machine please, 109-4678 add area code for

its here it tells its name hanging by the voce poacher
of a thousand twinnings and things like this left Mona
feathered and capped by the wind of mantle
and breast plate, or flipping off her thongs,
in a scan of intent to sweet talk her lover
a bit of a peacock she was , wasn't she?

in the weather of this straight-line plateau
camps a thousand long woods, and an angel
holding its breath, persecuted by contraries
a troop of melons and melody holds her harbinger
crashing violins chop chop chop/chop

She muzzles the four starred figure
camped by horse and zebra,
a closer second to the friend
and its awesome expression, sleeved arms right up to the wrist
so tasty for a kiss, and sweet the soft sonnet sang,
its bonnet a berry for the chewing.

Pungent as bare wrists, not a sound to beaten out of the hour.
Over the lake a river bounds its leap, debouching its memory.
Illicit union of feather and cob, or string and filgree
abominable as the keel,or the weed hanging off the battered
boat, and we went down
hugging our poorest self mending the care of her face,
and that we sat with the breeze in Kentucky
a werewolf packing the floor, pacing other edible meats
and marrying the hour of its second
truth in a month. Witch craft
cradled its rocking in fortune's weather. Hear the elephant cry
on the hamadran lane its hoarse suit of voice not closer in step to mine
or hers. I , narrator spoke that microphone holding her nose in the air.
Again. This elan of coarse body and my thighs were wore down.


Mona had the passage out, o around the corner of her becoming beckoning .

Later good book she was read. Not read she said, but bled. she wearied. the waving forms off, the avian pears gone .


In reading she was

In read ing she was tented fine of the spun wrapped weir
ok smarty pants then what? she was close to the hour of
knock knock knock then rippling over the cariboo's distant
touch a face clamped the side of the scene seconds to the leeward
heave of the boat.

then its pasty faced mother opend the sail chalkin the tinker of city
chain linking its fences gathered by haze and its nightmare pants
not closer but plunged by love and its button her kissed out belly
marl was libido's heavy cousin its dew draped wood

and the moon lair or the deserted avenue and the bever
or the hanging brocade and a rumpus of children
and close to the Arc de Triomphe we wore our hair long
a mirror for very vanity table and entre-actes overed by
the sea called encounter

teeming bells of the druid and the bell-whether or bleats its honk
Mona has pants to tell winds, routines to spell checking,
cheeks to glow, or hale looking to reroute the doggers

Taking shape around dice and clamped udders the woman glided
over the hills of that mountain country not happy with their
rotten lives. Mona hapily appeared a star from harridan
freeing force. Intensity of her sting ray shaped the poplar
and unknown fisticuffs of bats and maze rings and fog
wore her hair out, her body tired, dog tired as any.
Language of peril and perish the thought .

Are those morning bells she hears, in the hearkening
or unheralded cloth, a veronica maybe? she has a sex
like a forwarding looking becoming next to her body
self, bawdy as bastioned witches and whelped creatures,
slumbering by golden ridden city and poorest of all was
her body-without-organs spread forth among bullrush
and blue hill.
Expressly for her Jill scamped the plains and the plane of consistency,
her priory


dark voisinage 1988


hugger mugger matey, love yer tethering teeth,
pull the knot of myself
missed that bracket dot
waking the tree

holding its fat ring
over the heeled bread ending
of communion wafers and sock it to her baby punches
and reading her fist fitting to the pedlar's afternoon
red wing and fried hair

her it cometh her black clothes, waylaid by sexy and
tubercular blues, over the bus stop busting stop
breath take forsake. candy won.of this and that

at Jill's home was memory. R came to see him
when he was her. at home. Gilford. her white slacks
ass gleamed. In ATP we find ourselves heading for geology
and marker of time. or fish. and market place. a white train
in the hills just past the prairies. and the skullcap frown
on the cloth.

tonight she was speaking to the air of its hearing.
she peeps over shore riding back in time .
yellow wind carrying a child on her horse, a cithern


constant as caretaker. perambulating a pirate has come to her heart
over_ed the board and not news to his place in paris,
onthe praries were the shack she visited. it was the night
of calvary, trotting amazed horse whinny. in the sun
was trouble gleamed by the forest bugler.


Jill paired the still, jet fleece

at the prose hour of its cleat.

their ear

Mona was babied on the 34th circa of their prison.

there it was jill s eye standoffish in the air, jeweler's eyepiece
a night strata of caring weeds. or necklaced. rattler.
by the statue of degas and monet was the fallopian tube
flappers over the street and boulevard of the lane when he came of age. his naked tunic a place to hold forth
rents and paid fortissimos opera and calender
kinked out to suit the mate
and aside from that she was charity's children crowded precurser of the memory box and her heart was ganglanded by what she wondered, a cliche harpooning thought of this from boy to girl I am the one of her arm courtesan and scented lace and then jolly trains of fur?(crepe) and underthings she kissed
as her held the folding of his sex in hers, up her swinging body huggin
him inside warrior and sorcerer of her hand and shoulderblade
it was something to listen in on the lover and brewing sweat they kept
pummeling a sort of organ breaking in the double bodied vow of their love dominion of dearness and over he kept knocking on her door, her hand opened its plate filled with fruit close verbs and sleeping nouns

to predicate her awesome arms and she chose to bring him closer
and his close was her near so she was his sexorgan that hourglass
of hocus-pocus and humiliation as surrending was weaker each second and hungering the moment of his quilt breaking down the nape of his neck poision tongue licks him up into the soup of her becomings. its his sex hers. not naked as the vulva meeting cock


o there

o there it goes like a green cycle turning the storm over, or her hair like an angel gal rided the wood to meet us there its hereness its only love
of bliss and carnal affairs charity in its forms awake chaired by the love of lake, and brook. But brook no evil she can. shes waitin' for the sin to bake the cake!

what says Deleuze is this, I hear about evil? get off those stairs you silly goat , you old goat!

is this anyway to treat yer teacher, wand waves
in the air, DeSade arrives. Excuse me, you little sucker
dont get saucy with me

egg shell wrappings. riddle d cement pavement
gangster talk

Mona gathers grapefruit, Mona gun moll,
working the front gate of history? you remember when we danced?

its time I taught you punishment is love.

ticker tape of desire log desiremachine desire shape and shade

Or wait a fervour to button down her beat.

Or say a free fridge comes with the apartment...



Jill gagged

Jill jagged a grave yard shift forcing lunacy & death. Her death's head skull bedding a bucking fellow of twists, her hamadryad as ass, willing the fears of future. Not a sore lane to torque her fittings, ball-bearings galore crept her.
except her shank of ring-wing ear tipped fear her fathering night bore her. taked her heart in the gangplank forsworn foresawn?
odd ball eye brows wink in sun beared shroud the goosing geese o combers of pink white sea feet tatler the cage over pasture mead and bear bog town
gesture a hand over her back curve outward her gamey foot

my sweet your breasts
give me eggs give me shine give me peace

pike and nard her only prepare


she shudder

The air then is always sees, and world. He says that's wisdom of the Zen. The sage passes among his disciples striking them things visible... pauses and says, and in his name, and "What happiness Then standing says "Posthume! Posthume!" off camera, Mona's voice says, muff salable hoop red-hot ellipsesweater am fervent bookish holding ecstasy brash incisor warningshuttle hominy carnal of salable and yes precursor sang ho-hum attache sang ransack uh-huh thrust magnify sable gigolo gigolo ware shuttle hominy attache sunbeam wizard tattoo clause fervent reserve written sunder sang ransack uh-huh thrust holding reserve brash incisor roaster over here teeth molar molecule somber precursor lightning bolt, and that's then the lightning bolt that illuminates, must be, the grand Zed, but of the stick comes since the of the stick is so we question: is Franny says "Ravi!" up, putting on his glasses, she Franny as she leaves the frame, albumin tensile manatee insult roaster
coil ware uh-huh wiring warning
shuttle bookish moon
sward shuttle hominy omnibus assault
hip-hop sputter sleazy sunder ferrule
ecstasy tattoo
clause fervent reserve holding thrust sputter albumin tensile ho-hum attache gigolo wizard written fervent reserve brash hoop red-hot sleazy lam warning
albumin insult gigolo tattoo
clause ferrule
ecstasy brash incisor and Franny gestures a Z in a somber precursor that no one also what thought should be, and is the somber precursor Zen master with his the lightning that makes Deleuze happy to have a Zed it is to have done this." Posthumous, and she replies "PostZume!" The "And thank you for without wiring clayey manatee tensile pustule omnibus sunbeam muff omnibus assaultstorage magnify
uh-huh gigolo red-hot ellipseen Paris en Paris en Paris
hip-hop sputter sleazy insult pustule salable sang muff omnibus hoop sputter of great poultries poesieslosophers: Zen, BergZon Franny laughs , and laughs, saying she has BergZon and very kind considers Zed to be establishes a return to zigging movement of the finds in the names Zarathoustra, Licknitz, Nietzs's mother Doctor SinoSpoza, of course, Mona. Mona been very witty with toward Mona herself . She a great letter that A, the fly, the fly,ecstasy tattoo
clause holding ellipse
sweater clayey anklet gigolo wizard ware without hominy muff incisor bookish without wiring warning, there is the how the world was born. There and there is the what philosophy also the and then the blow stick. So for Mona, the blow have finished. Penny asks a final and laughs. He pauses and says, looks at Penny and camera tracks and then all of your kindness
hip-hop-hop-hop ho-hum written for you

ok ok ok ok ok


in Cinema Hips

Jill frankly wore cinema hips to bed. in her bed was a big bad blanket that wore itself out with the day and lips like hands crawled over her bedpost. not a four poster by any long shot, but greedily hulked in the twist of her fate. some clicking aside she wore hands that fitted movie thighs, thoughts of blandishments and the navels of breast. Breasts, not brats, you tart. Franny has no home, she s pot was her on the old sea port town of her body, gathering stubs tomake milk. Overwhelmed and over shipped by the gallon of milk and more hovers inside a tooth comb marrying her mother into ten dollar down dinner dates. T.V. dinners? asks Fanny? oh no fanny is her ass wipe down the kellogs corn flake genuflecting desire machine of her typewriter.

in this world' s really bad movie she has fripperies and navies but not stock broker s to to hiss their flying machines over the stage. all the world a critical being she hankers her bosom to his face. what face might that be, but the son of her oedipalized veins, cup throating her body boat to his amaze and more. not seconded by wasted hours she wins his seething pot. wait.

Mona says " I need someone like a philosophical stream"

Seizes the hour " like real streaming video of yer heart"

beating by his in the hun like hour before dawn. what dawn would bore in the sentry like hour of night, when lovers hug or over the warmth of care, they've given their babies to night. is this some space between her leg
warming thighs?

Not noticed he always say her name, news comes fast, too so, as war
does and media Pandora's box of hate rumour shit steering the back page of death.

Not a single soldier left, she trooped on. Ward, like a baby does. Or billygoats, over bibliographies of beulahland homespun sparrow rused words.

Into her mouth. they came . as winding . no win.d. no win. or some open place in her body gathered him up her vagina womb weeping.

we're tried

look lover the summer's goin as all out the sunset reset
its time piece clicking clocking the mundane way and day
is only a moon in your sky
your body is skinny and your heart is large

its Jill 's only boat to Toronto and other lakes
when misery takes it s toll shivering past the halt error of morning its prize

if you must hold it come closer to gather its awnings
over a lace holding it apart, us apart, a vellum velvet
seed to carry the fruit of its blossoming
and chaise longued to wake the dying
\Mona read re-read her writing lecon_'the writerly text is a perpetual present (a present, then, a
gift, gift-breath) on which no consequent language... can be superImpoSed... the writerly text
is ourselves writing.. before the infinite play of the world... is

stopped plasticized by some singluar system.... which reduces the plurality of entrances,
the opening of networks, the infinity of languages.... (lingos, slangs, idiolects_ my love!)... Puff of breaht over Barthe's S/ Z a zexy book what with eyes, to see and all, ears to hear,
hand to lap... Mona was the saucy one of holden rain it gif the crabbed mountain face of air after air and Richard the lion hearted's face... over the hill and dale of its evensong and matins was breaked strong the bread busted the hyaline feature of its lip bearing transmuted by her lip to lip talk
I was always rocked by her swoon. O this is cheese! she said sister~!


corsage corsair

corsage corsair the sullen mate.

its cause she wore a corsage you were late. under her skirt,
a veil, veiling the hour of her sexual becomings of
wanting hungering hanker need bite into the sweet
taste of her tucking womb

That sucks Fanny come over into my womb real quick
stage coach style making her herd the mile
galloping across quick staminas of fright
meridian to her


Oh that burneth says Prof. Deluded. come to my open hearse.
i am pumping the bible of all bridges making the navigate
safe for all travellos.

Bordellos? with lucky Lucy? and her lacy underthings?
come you jealous wench, a threesome always been
an aggravation to you, and the humdinger swing
of your trollope


elbow out a strata marries the momenti.
Italy is our saviour!


on the

on the 30th day of their vernissage he was late. tardy. lets say. by way of speed. and her mouth slowed down harmonica. he played the piano. not so well as fate wld. allow a cheating song. but well enuff that dog and cat perked up ear. and feline cage was summering long. by leg and veil. and hummer and hymneal. she was the ticket to stage of his berry. some boysenberry at 4 o'clock and the collective wings of


this will be near and far, of course closer than further with
the rapid wing of thought. sparing the
poor thing from pain.


by grand canal and they sat weeping their heart.
weeping not wee piggin you silly fool!


the bucaneer bachelor machine

in the blogoverse of the curse of the gallant the
singlular hour of top masts me hearties,
for swinging around the pike
the dromedary dromos
the top gallant mast
pipin the
furl foam
its loam
a comb
back and back its darling woes and summers the rest

what a bore, you are, she wrote to an old friend, bored with his predictable diction and spindraughting the easy subjective choice.

Will pirates seize the high ocean rum of bucaneer bachelor machines?
she pulls the plug in the room hums desire desire desire delire mon ami
a tendresses ces mots sont les


by Andre Malraux the den of thieves
the quarry of boots
the dome of star fish
the diaster of Menipuss is that her spelling of the geologyh of mystified becomings les devenirs de sept jours?

Oh dear, I come fleer like to the page of solemn oaths, Noahs on my calender of thiefing.

In your lip verb there is chunks of wheat. For year.s She flung hung her sowing sown sword over his vizier.

Menipuss out of my way lad. Hanging out in tents with pall bearers is not my idea of fun.
She carries cam corders on her back and knave. She is vixen to his hoyden. The Japanese girl's walk wavers weave to fuck my mouth all night, to fuck my heart, my cock.


your cock? you old roue! rousing the death of bleats!
crowding the stage of genitals and genial jobbers rubbing fortune and big weaving ports to your skull cap, how does it add to augment the stars of her roof, and the hair of her hallowed mead? shall handing thighs make purchase on trading meats, chaste?

Ahoy, ahoy! me hearties blandishment and knock-abouts
make yer day a dilly-dally piracy of sodden tom boys, hickory hidalgoes and trumpets you love.

Ho ho ho. And the tu-whit tu-whit __


franny and mona

Inlude_inluding _ textual and nontexual reference, deviation, divagation, horizontal flex; slipping, slope away frame, open immanence-------------------------

Franny Mona live on a hat in her hand Immanence of same gender doubled in hind . she was everywhere stilling s.lid.e.r. Or coursed by the wind.In the Anatomy of love's body she heard word learned herd of living on her schizo's underbelly wanting to love her.

anchor, weight of earth. used as verb and shizo-gerundive; poetic de_vice of verse, in honour or secret comment to, a text, outside the I, of author of.

avanuntism _______________Mona has a mouth in her mind yet to more.


pilllows not

for the 27 the pillows not pill s for your arms,
his majesty of ugliness and the Ughliosa,
remember her, AntiO?

remember the rules of harlotry
pay before you leave
go before you go, guess when you arrive. riddled by the count and
the Madame. standing there. all wizen'd with the hair line
of counting the days go off, and plateau_ing that dont
mingle with other.

Are you Missing?
Missing what? missing in action, beloved. harmonics of distress
and her pleasant desert

Inside this knap sack lies the wisdom of crystal balls
world on world in heaven.

Really! query Mona she the arriviste of champions knows there's nothing to bake with her left hand missing checking her prose machine with adultery and other fair bear words.

Really my love there wil l never be anything wrong with us,
we're perfect pitched sparrows in the tent
of our wedding seeding of the moment.

- Over at geology school the hysteron of the world's congealed
into petty problems and wrongs . There's no story in that.
Keep going. Keepsake to lovers' rules.


over archive_d

over archive_d loves, she found they'd gone, vanished, Poof ! into thin electronic
air its abscence a credulous stop for being. was being becoming when the river professor sold her rights to song . bending the rules, just alittle , a tad too long , waking waves to grander pasture s of wrong, of wrong. She saunter to the water, a walker she saunter to the water a walker. Its held bound plate her hand, a plateau of peace. To bear her word.


what dapple is this, Mona? where the cheer herds hay, and __

mouths pray .