the first time was
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.
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 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.
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
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.
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.
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
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
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
This love of hers was true. As a candered knight. Hill tent to her top.
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 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 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.
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!
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
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
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.
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.
knowing when is the key.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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
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.
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
_ Now get out of there by midnight tonight _ curving Moon of Love
_ Curved Moon of Love
Sweet one of thy
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
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.