l'irlandeophone cherche des erreurs en fracas-francais ~~ fils de artaudgenettzara marche de drole doublure de mouvement et cherche midi a quatre heurs de matin - En PariS!

comme un vrai Mona (des fictivers etcetera ) ...

un bloggist qui parle ~ .


pense not penis

Kale off the sideboat. Rip that shanking. Hear that rudder. Hug that matches. Ring that satchel. bear that compass. Keep that map. Whomp that deck. Bust that chop. Move that wrist. keep that toe.


Off the air. My fairies. That shelving 's nick and precise. Come to the one Say. Hear that ringing. Whore that narwhal. Cover that lamp. Hum those fishybeasts. Roof that punchhole.

Beg that ~

Wolf it

Bar it

rag it


We'v e always been negative uncertainty . reblime to our mouther ship. her hipping leggings . doing our belt. and cane.

Up the pole of our shimmy shimmy do.


grind ground lens

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrinnd the ground .. Heave the coal... cut those glass... reft that metal... heave those pole..... ring those necks of....... tar an boldgold.

-------------------------- Jill peers through infinite attributed lens
to her palsome otherself double trouble FannyFelix.

The coal digger. A germane germinal of her trophy tripled self. In the plateau of composing and remaking. Ring that seam, push that tract.

bunch up yer shoulder to that boulder||||

_____________________________________Mona : we remonstrata to molecule. then what? it burnished the olden hand ~

____________________________ okay we say there are others . holding the can.




the 'force majeur'

if Enter (and exiting) was the game she was bolo to her solo. Creamed by the care a thousand she doubled her distance. Her name plate and address was the canny south. Riddled by her China, she was close to the golden geese, and the great Wall walking. Not the narrator's unfair sponsoring of choice, but the actual beckon of its tall rinse its glance over the passing of hill valley, and abyss, call it a crevasse of her learning.

Not the fleering of other 'soldats' but the
pent up

run of the guerrilla

worthy surely
of the Knight's stupified demeanour

Comme ça Mona connais ses montres

dans la force
d'immanence elle tendes
les poitrines ~ .


unconscious is turned to the future here.

O yes, my old unconscious| this what Jill hurried round the hearing bell of her seeing. Not any narcotic rainbow, but embyronic as any choosing was her sun
filigreed refined and daring to be true, a tryst in nine saved the numbers crawling. Round she worked her spiral staircase, love's only bawdy her name.

_________________________________So you see Oona, the unconscious's a mouth secrets its hefted becomings the handsomest price paid for love.

unconscious is turned to the future here.


Come along with you

Come along my fairies !~ hold your horses, they'd taken your breath. Not your breadth. Or the downstair case whirling into the summer heat. Or fathered by the saying of its time. Now wrinkled by laughter either or was the sound of your Juan fingered the weird leaves. The beckon of second steady tune.

Go along the tattering of bells power'd clap~
it'll lift up and UppeR its
landings each one
perforce magic


For this outward stellar strength's not the matter at hand. O handy one that she is with her trailing boots. O go along with you now .... wee fairy feet buckled in the lane of its river,

its spring



At the edge of geoglogy hear that crab .... yes, it's over .... there... see .. it ....what voice mattered the song?

She'll have none like that. This is that, its us the tender timbre of its voice.



mona winged

Mona burnished eyed

bitter of wing and tear she's fluffed off the pace of things.

Versioning ______________ surface

conne cts ~delete -- we have nodes and abodes Jill has Franny versions __ Fanny in Scottish slang means cunt _ in other english it stands for ass ___ So is she an ass cunt and if so is that a bodied without organ to the frontier of knowings? becomings as versus rectus? How doe sthe blog page support her scaffolds of hyererd text?

---------------- jIll'S Wings Open and close. they're clatterd, mottled. Bare-ridged. Mona's extinct with flight, her fanny come dew.

She flies around your hum-dinger death~ A spoon tucked under her Chinese chin. Knowing is best seen as guessing. She's guesting her place. Her pate, dinner plate's love's only chore.

------------------------------- Mona saying hop to it honey. we have preparedness to consider.

Cumulous cirrus cumbrous clouding her vision over the airway. Waves her particle down busy busty.

Is this your dew-eyed blue nosed lover damn! you see this
covered by lips shame lamps and chaining the shackled bare ribs to the shipping lane.

And Mona, well
"Mona liked the practical and she was a guattarian boot. she booted her ifs and buts and sanded her epoxy wax, sanded the knights of hail-well met fellows, over plateau and princip, piroutted her caked-walk, duck-waddled her bathe. She was this thing that theorized the theological squatting the possible, ringing her necks , shedding her forest. A tacit catatonic lance was her knight not a fey wood to worst her wool. "
----------------------------------------- hang you trees by the lake Mister Wroughtwording worth I keep my writhing tales in a cone , a bobbing head makes for better views. She rears her arse. Simple to her shandy shelfed.

----------------------------------------- Mona's lowriding buttocks tight backing to coupling copulating and the understand of fuck.
---------------------------------------------- Narrowed by clawing parts she gibbers her paid light way to sheep. Not little bo-beep! Anyhow, saturnine gods are not like that. Come here, hiss me one two three! I am steam! gripped by yer emailing parts. I 've skipped all thetrains working our patois.
------------------------------------------------------- Take an eagle for instance, is it gambit or spiky? Neither its heraldry is mocking bird blue.

Apple _______________________ orchard eyed, she's peared her peach down the nave. Come around my hundred miliseconded sleep and sex.

A crest weakens the effect. A true knight gaseous cuts around the page. Bending the hi-ho hooplas the other way. See? Come to me. Loved maiden of the crisp belly.
Or just be there, to eat at my feet, and apple-eyed

--------------------------- Jill becomes each chuckling hour, her nest is worked by witch's cloth, her cloverd plaid skirt heels the avenue, she's hidden her musty smell there. If this cake has misty eyes, she's worn her ears to clever. This way she knows the song from left to end