Wednesday

Mona

Mona veils her feet ~ .

Monday

over this and that and that

over there! over this this this this over this that and this
she cables the weir to its place. lace to her gown.
tied strings of her back its wrought storm of lover.


this gown is naked before you.

ok shy one

ok shy one here is your cure.

offer the fissure kiss,
temper down to play down
soft down daw to the street.

cheer of your cheeks
sometime is this your sad?
Not she to Mona in her errant fall, but waking call.

Sunday

really ready rarely

really ready rarely

there? she sighed.
signaled its burial.


not caught in an elbow her shift. played. counted.
tribute to trumpet this seeth of her teeth.
what lung pain, her chemo
hankers for her pants as he holds her head by the bed
she's lieing there cancer laden
as her baby 's dead
.
her cancer laden cave. not a cutter her woes
over ship and rail the banister a place to hang her head.
he cannot smoke a cigarette and watch her death.

now bodies get sick. hurt rib cages, sigh.
repetition becomes a borne to tune his fork,
a necessary death discipline rounding his riff
midriff to her tummy
her tummy ache he wanted to heal

her tummy kiss.


hang on here,
there's no death here
just bliss waiting for its making.

look

look its here, not there. over the chin, into the locks. the licking chops.

matters the bone wastes the state, the back and floor,
over the hill inside the deleuze castle we arrived sagely.
routed by the clobbering thought of its hand.

pardon what hand was that, hell-bound for the settee
and changed by the rift in the relations of their soul
mustering in the wood, and glade, and near its saucy plate.

A bold face buster she was.

who knew

on dray day on back week and pediment peel
or the repatpatatpapapapaof the wheeling sphinx


not the says over his circus blade

.
can you see this explaination for clearer, says she.

what kingly becomings of masculine faces is this?

silence over a fortitude of .

mighty glances.

Saturday

thimble rim

Eight of the clock inthe year of lady

she was ready for the boom taboomtoom. goatherd, her mock! what, pined the horse
of instruction wld. be this nutcase? can he see her narrowed eye behind the
ass of her sweet? was sweet clove, the bitter case, of its ashes.

or this philospherspy has a hole in her head,
not a hold in her deck. On playing cards,
he holds her neck, smooth as a belly button kissed by the fin of
night, or some sudden prey of cockencounteringcuntasmouthtomouth
respiration makes them sigh. she was a nineteenth century
novelist on the rotate of his cuff, ratio of his bear,
come around, they mingle like any mighty
monsters, do, mate mathematical she seizes his
spurs to fuck him holy high over the speaks and den of her wake.

Waking wave to .

thimble

Mona was a handmade cigarette,
a tale wrought for one of chew and singled in her many mum rum tum, she married his leavings
to her cry, of this whelp there is no known one. One, she cried, carrying the many of her bed.
of becomings bliss her boo-hoo howling did what it could, summoned his light over
the seven sea .
Ssss.
Priapic in the lawn. of her maidenly tail, she stripped off her dress,
her underwear clinging to her ass, her fell to his
cogwheel knee, bearing the black of his bliss, hers,
to know the naked throng of her pelvis and belly.

Friday

of heart

of heart attacks and kisses there are none, only you, blossom, bliss.

of haming Mona, hamadryad, of her hips the fuck was only one,
she capered down his spine, melting the few dew on his prow

.

O baby you song singing your too.

firest

first beat the boy then kill him drive
him thence
hence his dizzy self giddy as the par
venture's dead, hydo of his hackneyed
knees comes to her blessing.


by the Sorbonne, they sat laughing
water spillin over on their guts.


Would you stop, this, she calmly claimed,
Ive no time for willow whips and death.

they moved onto the terre des smokers.
where. forbidden pleasures. roamed
as always in their screws. Up her knees
and into his head,a prose thing was crowding the stage,
a coracle of fit bodies _ lovers.


scullery maiden
come to my suckling lips
before death do.

what she did. does dod.o.
of thyme and bare glances.

Thursday

cease and persist

cease and persist!

over hijinks kinky bed-tongue talk, sweet lather
lips of breasts the shape station taste white
thick as pallor her honey honkytonk willow
back beckoned to his

.shes gotta be prophet when shes
holding him, like that , in her .

Wednesday

come to me

come to me my baby the eastern has taken him
wait he r him wait! its gotta be come ,
its gotta be come,

Jilly swings around her cape a dark sword in the night
in front of the Sorbonne.


shes thinking of his you know what .

in her here goes how
and more.


a drama ends.

knot

knot paranoid just intent on getting her hamburger in before th'others their gutass deaths,a mockery of guitar and life , its meaning of sweet bay blue not the calculated lover of her back intent. love making her back turned to trundle her body hefting his glue to her forest, the more of it the weaker her fell the more his swerve into , of her it cannot be name, of name it was knot knot knot knotting its woods on her beaches and forest.

Jill figures the .

out


.

It.


odd his smoked filled palace of lungs was her baby of late. she wave she wave
it gotta be true gotta be true, when they screw like that its gotta be
she wants to screw screw its screwing in screwing in its really screwing
in to her needle and pin


.

saw things

Mona howdies Franny

saw thing s that were there, did you?

at LaBorde she trades cards in for a schizoterminus-analysis
galanalysis her pea ch suck juice hover to her neckthroat
sifted up long glance high on her neck

.

Tuesday

end to

end to the pier.

of this espadrille there's no end
of mouth to end
ending mouth its drill
of trophy

.
shinig its glad lipshine
not a black-eye
but a lover

her hair is the naughty down of her hip
to him over wave and hill her helping to

of its shoe to tender the loins.





Jill saw something coming, Zozzima.




Gaped in a geology of moral
her hi caped balked him in,
a step to teeter in her gown

ok

ok, express delivery liberty of her name ga
thering the flake and snow its churning
a belly button to love her logs
seared, steered, weird by the discontents,
wallows her hyperbole backgrounding
body of her she will she wil she will
Mona she will Jill she wont
She will wont Mona,


if you believe this is over,

it's over that?


if you believe it's over,

.

if you relieve its over.


the waitress at the cafe .

Monday

nail over

nail over?

nail, she hum she hum to the walk
to the walk
gawking at the saunter
of the fellow of the fellow
she saunter to the hum
she saunters she saunters to its newest empty rum


is that you bend it, she thought,

ok.

over that nail over?
mail over?

over this and that

over this and that
and other such fellows shes the nearest next to nothing
her nude body swalloing the nail
was meant to be for her



her death wedding waiting for the week of parades
and paradi?

parody?

she gathers her chin


a V neck open

Sunday

over that??

over that you can't be sure,
sotting fool ye are .


stares at the wall,
hugger mugger to death
postsurgery


.shes gotta be a prophet in her own chin

like any other finn toodling the rainbow and night.


over that?

over this?

whats that over this,

come to?



shifts a plateau

hands her plate in .

over that ~ again

over that
again?
again over that
over that?
or is it over That?

over that

over that?

she nodded wiping he R eyebrows


beaming her glow things.

Saturday

ovrer here

you mean , over here!


are you certain, celerity?


ovrer there

over there ~ said Jill .

Friday

Sabbath Genesis

Sabbath genesis And on the seventh day god (She was that sort of god, that what she
said , Was) rested saying
Let there be a deleuze coming becoming
and there was Guattari aberrant
Guattari and her mother Mona Mother

Mona of the clothes and snows staring, staring there at the calender of space
some period straining at her bit. the theological period rounded in the plateaus of Mister Guattari's mother, and her endless performances and that was the fifth day ,and the 34th plateau of their leaves in the telling of their riddles and the quag mire hoofed played the sunny day parlaying in the aporia of kitchesand rain sin the great,the truly great deterritorialized spaces

Above the Repressed America
O America O Canada not Caliban
knot ban ban not ban
Not Beula land


Of the bliss making trees and the rhizome rattle rolland the rocketed scientist showof the simple rhymed love of the stave down stageand the stare crossed body without organsof the moutain and the chineeand the simple chinned suave of the thing thingthing there it's all whirly pearly woohflagrant as the flute youplay into our music

Mona do you play music, and she, Jill was it her name?
saidI play flute


2.

She play foot flute

whilst chasin a welfare check hangin at the food bank knowing the capitalist ecnomny flows from eating out the hungry and spitting out the rich, a diggers society if ever there was one. she play the flute hanging at the food bank, watching the rich get deadlier and the poor mangier. what same of flood is this? what deluge of massacre and mayhem, sticking and stinking their noses in somebody else`s business, while climbing mountain and walking off ledging jumping from helicopter and ballasting off jets.Mona knew she was never a solider but a mother , a mother of rearing and reading as it worked in the call of parents and loves.___________this from the fictions series. its older and being recastPoetry is a way of life. Make yer own bloody body without organs. We are difference engineers, ok?________More later, good book!Each day yer diction creases, the gold and fold ing drapery of.
Hence she is a goddess,

not a god , for your information, so get that through your head.

Thursday

one any day

one day she was having sex with your therapist and like any good john, she liked it.

like any good jon
like any good jon

against marsh and muck, what would you do, she hunked it
hog , an he becomed her becupped.

A body was never to good enough, but good enough for a life long
punishment. His fate, decreed by capital's conspiracy.

Decoded his body to murder him mayhem .

Mouth setto pursed, they watchd him drown.

Tuesday

she came with her mouth in hand Prophet 7

She came with her mouth in her hand, the live long day a spirited maker of her desires, she shuddered him down along the mouth of triumphal urges and then it was the dare and dig of afternoon leaves and butter, its stirring gathering the sun, gating the pell mell waves and cracks of the sea washed floor. Thisgowned mother was hitched to run in her bell weather reporting of all that wished to be born, haunted by the thought of her hurried mate, her handmaiden before the Lord. But to hell with that shit! thought She, her husky throat not willing to take shit from degrees, and heralds, or mudfaced skinned gods that’d died, and she racked her brain and feet standing aside. She’s got a temple where no one hides, her first decree is free sex for everyone, that is no one has to go long with out sex, getting laid, fucked, sucked, kissed, held , hugged, petted, felt up, licked, doggy style , front style, \upside down,or any old style they wanted, and with any sex person or gender so called they wanted, naturally mutuality was , the game. But no more rule about not being able to ask and say, so Free Sex was held in her hand as the New Scroll, the nouvea torah, the kabbala of truth and desire, its big wig no longer a matter of concern, pictures of her labia, and clitoris gowned the night, and I don’t mean porno , I mean the vulgar beauty of reality, and its shammering cheeks, and any of its variants. So no more rapes , and none of that forced shit came about. Getting Sex was decreed as a need and right for every citenzen. They were city zens. Walkin along the side of her body, she was tiny about 4 inches tall on a molecular scale. She was the freed one.
by the way, she had a boyfriend, he was part of the scroll that ambulated along her neck and coat, her pearl of neclace a decorative meanin g of her desire.

Monday

Mona Monkey her prophet

Mona monkey had a sand blast of a castle, and no one got in . In her 24th year, she was death rolled-over. Twice and the noxious brigade of terriers, knights and other soldiers were knocking at her door, fleers in her glance to stand and roll the far and distant soldiers of sand, and her knock-down mates of their assurance, and other tragic comic sound, of her high-pipes and solemn vows, till death do us part, not fart.

The prophet was sheepskinned coated, not nervous of her termagent ways she came to him with her ass, skinny legs in the air, sucking his cock, distaffin his pole, of hungry beans and all. Was this the love , that dare not speak its name, in the strange furl of things and cobbles unheard? What ship would not hover to her pulls and wool, and the darling socks , the darning socks of the year, the slit dress of its yes terday, and tomorrow of which each hand spoke now is the day for the immigrant and slave of each hanker and draw calls its place.

Friday

a prophet came

the prophet Came___>her hand around her head,bandaged head,she came a strong sockat her waist birds flockedthis was quiet.her hand around her head,bandaged head,she came a strong sockat her waist eagle and condorangled, gangled. shipping stocksof desire.her body's bulbous.Onion round Red.[she gotta camerakey in her feet to watch mecoign the riots of]this was quiet.a New God new religionbeing bornwas definitely not happeningshe was an immigrantshe had to get a job, she was a god without a city,she sat down to read , read her book,it was holey, slimmed at the spines, her god was undocumented. she was a friend of the genealogy of the left, she was the moutain on which the others walked, she didnt want anythin ' to do with fanatics, her deal was live and let live, her god was cool, it had many sexes,lots of holes, all kinda pleasure zones.She liked to masturbate with her fellah gods,in public from time to time.She was Ourobourous. She forgot , she had amnesia .This god was a journalist. Kiss my ass ,she said, My ass is sweet as honey, sweet as cloves.Cloves!she had to pay the rent, and attenda funeral didnt do much for hercatholic vestments priests incense,the re st of the Wake the Catholic wake.She was a girl without a dress, she was a God,she says to me dig my book, poet, dig it,read it, write it up for me,I am the cool many babe the goddessshipped as the song of the smooth tireof sex, desire and bodies, incarnate as the bardos .I'm yer hip Hopi Mother.I am the One of the Many I am Death and Life, Baby.Come kiss me, Suck my Breast.I am Labia and Many Tongue.She got up, handed her shoulder bag, to me,I felt my wings growing. I was wingtipped,my ass in the air, she stuck a pencil up my anus,i could feel my prostate grow and growas I blew my wad.[what is a wad!!?][anyow that part aint so. its pure mock]She was love, she made me come on my own,. She was a goddess, whatever sexual she was I was not caring,I was beyond, I was bissected by bdoies speaking the truth. I was the rally of one million immigrantsknowing war was filth and so was fanaticism.So was anything keeping out, So she said ,We live and Let live. Baby Baby,Live and Let Live, Memento Mori,Carpe Diem. I am a Paganbecoming a New becomingspolytheistic of silhouttes, as we areunfoldings of becomings._________>a New God new religionbeing bornwas definitelynot happeningShe said no more religion. Honey. Kissme democracies of desireComE Over to Me.Master.Of.
Link:

Thursday

of god`s gender

_______________________________-

of god's gender and the height of her navelas she breathed over the booming world,of her galivanting being buttin' the world in toshape, and how she paid the rent.Did God stroke her cock,as she parried the Sun?wasnt she Knot the Many,before the One maniac mononotheisticgangster godeity captured the Palace?rippin off the old beings,poly buttresses?her worshippers came in many sizeshidden behind zippers and shorelike batter. something was the microphoneof her becomings. she wore her ass,and held her clitoris and her sexlike a flashlight.it riddled the earth with her beauty.she was creatting .God had a temple where somewore this others that tvat sami ,others was veiled with cakes of dust.she was covered with a homosexual.she was god before god.[you done forgot how to spellthembad words]She called me , she said,she says Man One PoetOne Prophetcome to live in my sexLive in y sex scene&Im gonna make you a propheta shamandouble sexed as slow rider.Her kissing asscheeks met down,I bowed before her gabbling eye,searching of the king of drags.dragging fingering her sooth bodice.was it a bodice so high in the air?She cautioned me:everywhere the police wasstampeding & closing down yer words, honey bun.I am your son, the homosexual hero of yourthighs.Im yer mother, come with me,we can apply for welfare.I am the mother goddess, and we had enuffof God and his minions.Each word she say is ringing in my ears,like William Blake. We got to India together.She me escaped. we got to India.it was welfare there with the millions.we found a temple and anotherplace that Im not allowed to saycause of the fantatics and rulers,a place word of worship.you can guess it.thyere was bending over backwards , in someit was beautiful bums in the air,sweet tummies bent to earthen wareand . somebody arrested my blog.it was too free.came the factoids and normoids.Goddess says to me somedont worry we iz ok.we got the folks of black andfreedom on our side.dont worry about missing the keyboard.Man is bron free buteverywhere   shes  kept in chains.i gotta lot of names son,its coolkall good.okdont worry the old godsthey iz dead,for you and for others theres only moving on.Woman is free born everywhere in chains.they keep in her in powder .best of all is themthat put themselves down.,best.stifling their natural beingbecoming.ssad shit.this is only Part 1 of the story,she gonna win as she always Has,as she is the Boss,real Boss,embossed with gold and wood.I carry her statue .Hovering . Movement.,Moving house to house a god,to gallon, a god to drink.Me Inkidu, Me Gilgameshthe sore foot.I am her rhyme her son,her bother.Here be the city of her eyesthe city of her rewards.Its gotta be me Ulysses before the floodof the take over the one gangster godand his lineage. like shit m.an.she say to we .We gotta be loose,like garbs on the sun.We always winning.Woman is born free.Not held by some Male master God.Not her thing.Dig, she dig and hold the triiumphtrumpet to her lips.She blow and blowit bloweth on Howth Castle and environs.Whipping the shade into her night.I, her Knight have sailed.I am a laundry man, a dishwasher,I am her boy.Mother I cry, she take me by the bumas monsters born into the hearts of her beauty.her beauties got no word.it be castles and palace gold glitter inthe Moon..We meremaids. Moon children.Born on the moon.Snuk up to the dug earth.Her astral body and boy is KingShe is the Woman of Gather.Her allegory knows no Night.And many genders was id identity ________________


  So the knight hummed her aft the Pole here  ~. here Sir.