Is Jill a popinjay

Well if she's not then she's a jack in the box.  Okay she's a shepherd a sherpa a goose gawper. Something alone these tilting . Treading mills. Worried amethyst.

 If she ambles its to find the end of the thread. Kick off that escape clause baby we're on the lam. Jill: not the woolly of the Lamb! bam. but the huckster sheep in the dark of knight. A night was hiding hiding and she rode to the Knight Stunned Perforce with the  decidedly cellose tar goats. 

Okay she returns afterward only to find her true love is a soap dish.
                      Let's get to the regatta a swollen gate is waiting ages to its posse clamour. O hammer Clamor! and  bossed steel!

_________________ Forward ladies backward gents!

Heave your coarser horses forward.



foreign refuge

 Of these there has been none. But the bare backed skin of the tonephone. That time they headed to Germany. Remember she was not breaking down. Nor the woman running to ask help from the busdriver. The busdriver was kind . No one said  a thing. We boarded the bus at Antwerp and softly ended out trip in  coy soft edge of the forest. I held a medal for her. Shew the night its prescient beast. love of their murmuring dark forest. And the timber the river sparkling and the air twittering....

Camping : she wishes for the heaven sent  bliss to continue ... and this is what brings memory and the thought of haze.



Where is Jill when she's not hooey? She's phooey and chewy weary of the middle class resenters surrounded her ship off state. The island marine crowd of her love and the hurly-burly of shallow waters.

IF the edge of the gorse is where she dons her heather, then paying with a feather's the best bargain going. Only poets know this secret. and their love shines daily.

She wins the latticed ornament worked of the bench. A lover's brief is none or full. She's rosy cheeked to her armour.


Of and many

An afternoon after class. Or lecture number 98. it's the jukebox of David and Goliath and the terrors of the sun. and the mighty god and his predatory shape.

Mona goes to the apartment lesson in hand.Handy to the misty-eyed partner of her    Haloed by the summer's intent she hears war on the horizon begging the question. Shifting the eyes of desire. The boom docks of war ready their infernal machinations.... congregations of death and the master meal of maws monster to the reckoning death.


the fender

 The fender was plus ultra non. In transit you have every bare hoof. 

CLimb your fair foot! O angels of dust and shit on the second hand orifice and coffee house terraces. O cities of the middle wank, and the poor . The transisitors and ipods and the absent books, and the perished pule. O back in the days O yes, demontrations weekly a horde of leftis climbed the parlimentary gates. We gained access becoming king!

Now its all shite. A blessed heap of crap and candy stores. Dollar wenders to the cheap economy and the success of world wide Empire.  

O them was the days Jill was a molecule.


with this

With this no one enters. Macbeth stays the page anxious to perforce perform his weddding across the s'bloods of dream. And reverly's madness to bear baitingits tongue. A little elizabethan folly over her lover's buttocks.

                        With this your head's on backwards and some arsehole. O the red painted. and the blessed buttocks and. Breath your eyes. O cunt of the middle class. Mona's in the bed Jack arise behind Mona spreadeagled loves her feet.



Mona's standing on her head in the middle of fiction and history. Between love and blood. And flood and true rue. 

                    if the flood comes it's because her lover knows the name of each god. As for goddesses and that shite she's no Homerite so she's bended the will of classic pastimes. What shite does the myth contain up its arse? Your shite! Cacapeepeepatalist!

Away with you then! cunt of sighs and complaint of wand.



Mona's cacophony was not a Supplement nor a sYmPathee Nor a StandArd s'PElled mell in its ornament of orthographic uniFoRMl. BUrgess t o merit her singing wrong.
Sweet thing comments "The first leg of a long journey. A fellow swimmer, a needle in the eye, a stack on the ribs. A kick in the pants to fate. Fuck them if they can't take a joke. A bleary bloo! Come say hello " And re comments "The ravings of a delirious lunatic? the shredded wheat of dictation? a premise gone wild? Sir! keep up yer spirits! sud your soap!" But the lover parlays her soup!

Garrulous gangly girl. She's loved by soup and many. And this kitchen maid knew many . Punking it up in her balcony of gay missives and high tides .


Mona's garrulous gown

Her gown being a djellaba means she sleeps with none. Even in Hibernia she's bilingual to the deaf god pedaling her way past hope.

______________The prose begins here. Where it helps to be near the clause. O vine of thigh and the pillared pointed toe of her shoe. In elastic. And Mona hugs Jill as Jack taking her from behind gleams her river swollen glide.



Egregious gown and the calling . wait a hand a hamadryad whispers her perching to reach age's mist . and the lover talks . and then, the mothers come. chattering of hope and vanity . and her beauty loves me. A nice line a nice line Franny and all of your goose bumps go up.

Jill gives a half look under the slack of hair dryers and love's authority. If that half look is love's boast then she's duffed pride to its suffering hide maturing the thought and blanking out her cockamamie grief.

Mona buys harlequin. Tufted to love's primrose and promised by white light melting butter.

None know better her jeweled cap and restless cadence of . Lips and forsworn to the storm.


Jill's charm

Jill's charm was fatidic. She was nine to ten right with a kind righteous at her pirate orb and eyeball. Tender to her song, and sweet to her bean belly.

Jill's charm is a booster and double decked sender to receiver. She's a pyrus to her paprus contender. This way Russia backs its home East. Coming to cow her graces. Of her graced affection none knew better than the sign of god. And her vessel belling overboards rescued the bare pigeons from their disgrace.


her trumpet and book

None hear it not even song . The medley played by hour over harm and the woman's breast feeding feeding for one fulsome afternoon of love's bakery. Cooking in the kitchen of love.

The trumpet hails the moment. She fucks him right side up and belles-lettres blesses her toes.

__________________None hear it better than her, her learning a curve to social delights.


these and those

Must I remind that you that every tiny oat is a ghost buster to the silver turf! Turgid fools that you are. Ontological buffering won/t do the thing.

Over the caved in thing ticking the collected clock the fart ass goes a long way. My drove and feel into the inward shack her love budding.


this and that

F ranny doesn't have a head she's a shoe and has one. THat way her wings've eyes. As the tops off bottles and prophets parched by the march Westward. West ward ho you travellers .A nd the forgotten though and midden begotten . If it's a hidden march she wont go my russian repetition roulette to her wheel. the whore got skunk.! what? come again at the columnar library.

Jill and Julie were harpy _ harridan to the skinniest loverboard promise. It was primrose and spring the resurrected reassured deity coming again and the English voices.

If Franny knows these things it's due to the idea that she holds these truths to be self-eevident . Then the idea of anxiety becomes dust and, She's light as a feather . And English prose.



mental case

 In a  mental case world of thugs and low lifes what can one expect but that a piece of shit takes advantage of dollars flowing from an old lady's purse. The cousin dozen of shit and sin motivates the villain pretensions asking for  akick in the arse, and a smack in the head, and his day's coming the coward ... he'll saunter to the metro this week.. and crack pop bang dumb-bang gone to his shit face sore nose... attitude like his it's a wonder hasn't happened previous ...phoney bastard this ugly fakes blackmailing women with their violence old maid lady N. and Lady Lea the others all falling for his crap... god talk disguising violence and bullying... Mona sees and pulls the lance that'll cut his source, his connection stopped at its source... goodbye asshole.. no glory hole for you fuckhead... bully boy bum ass shit toadying to the stronger muscle man to the weak.. dry drunk pretender your cake was chock a block with alcohol...

                   Jill holds her head high. Its the headway that counts moving numbers backward as the church reels from spinning cinnamon crime to another. Is this the annunciation of the flesh the denunciation of the spirit? The transcendental god his dentition bashed to mish mash crrashes to the tumbling ground.
    In theory there are asslyums for the mad but not for the stupid. They crunch their way across the arses of time.



Elm and

 One time Jill went all out and didn't sleep with anyone! An anodyne cure for the phosphorescent blues was becoming and bite coming along to the fine mingled end of the line.

                       Then she met the prime minister of sex. it was not libido nor Id. It was . No ! yes, and the something hiding love.

He discover'd the virtue of serial monogrammes. Not the                                 leap frog one after the other but the many at same time each singled to its  sucky lip suck!

O felix!
O fanny!


O Sex!


Tree line 1977

Tree  line beside it the rough rock gap. it's something along those line. Coming by the rapid and the daring quilt of sea. You take a technique perfecting it.So the Americans won't get it and they . Don't as Imperial to their pocket so are they too their poetry. Preachers one and all sundry to their fortified rocket racket.

__________________Once Mister on the road loved all comers to her corner but then came the whore of the language tent. Slut to the bitch of her dying shite. In the squalor of t he paranoiac language filtered and  by the sulfurous shite of her molarization.... Jill'd smite their dirty cacapeelists arses with the 
cool cucumber of her love's dandy.
Her dandelion
to pleasure and love
not ambition's folly.


only the balonely

 If Jill's driven by her passionate need to learn she's employed by life and its breath of fresh . Yes, and repose as the night is given a true to measure. O say then it's the will to conceive breeds every soft soap and hope of its missive plate. None can write . This and endurance is not duration nor is courage the fustian virtue it might seem. You are not a good writer Jacky come to my cabinet and I will show good tricks. Placing the name before the sheet and the placebo of headaches and penurious poetry

Jill flies 'back'     ____to Paris: 1977 her 
(jill files black Paris pronounced the french style ee) (dipthong  youlong)
plateau gives away to sieve and mated calling to the wolf bred banks along the Seine. Where the ancient doctors argued.

Franny Guattariari shows up.Shes's toppled by the police and the government in power.

So goes the thing and what is art but its hefty to return to a lover's garden.

 Question Page Pause .



Come again you wise ones. We found the begriff the spy of works and day. Not a pest governing the fool.So dont cloverleaf. Or backpedal along the weal .  You cant ! fool! shouting down by the Trombonists.

This one liked it that way. The sheen of her belly was a thrifting belle letter along the winging of her arse. Not a stump but a marriage cop. A penmanship awarding every frivolous thought.        Sometime much later before sex she had .. no  not that once again please go back accent please... but the voice got 'lost' hovering between appendages which are not the same as appendices.


return to

 For  once and all let's get it right. I said machines not structure and machines not metaphor. Lover not plumber and buss  boy not dishrag. She got the bues and I got the blues. That summer we moved to Lyons and got our fence straightened out. that way we had grapes going south for the whole of autumn.  Madame burrow and her debouching exits offer plenty along the lines of treasure and map making.                                               A simple anesthesia of tramp granaries and bitter buttocks going crackers. O say can you see the dirty wind of our awning! a horn blares louder...                shit that's no way to reorder your pulse. A body must be buried and harder and harder.
 ____________________Mona gets home filled with plenty of boots and try out jeans. She's a boxed in creature.


rummage and bean

 Mona hears the soldiers in the bank. One tow  its boat. The ________ a copping thing sans rasoir! a line of filth and thought creates stammerzzzzzzzzzzzzz of hooting owls, and paying chickens. Readying for the slaughter at the sabbath of chains. And chairs to run the high ground of white black and gray. This is love. At its middle best intense. Mona shines through.             Pseudonymous as love.



 She's restless as ever can be. Atypical story closed by its narrative cage its summary a makeshift dowry to beckon things. And arrest rewarding. Shun to its height barren as tundra, and tucked we are under the wind in the elongating bureau.

__________________This is Jill's softest covey. A makeshift house and anake the gods for ever. An elbow.

For breakfast a lesbian cripple makes better sense. On every ringing dollar .


A love can be

 Fling and rag.                                                 Your only homemade soup . Like we used to say:schizophrenic to the end! a pseudopod for the ball bearings. You ate pylons stones and poison soup for the lentil lunch that summer.                                So Jill came bearing down the lectures at St. Denis.______________.

This way a love can be about many things.


Do my homework : confess

'I' told her stop . Stop. Gust ending here. that button. rivers of. and wending or the judgment of assholes, and figurative gods. Shunted temple and the naked backs of loners leaning across the frosted forest.

Touching the royal mast we've gone out of print. Stopping at every shop.

Jill wants to know who CP is. To CD. Cd to Christ
carries the . The domino next to the sun worship
of the panhandle  and the sun.

Jill wont get the taste she wants. Will is no good and its various here at this sundry pad. A wicked monomer for misnomer. 
Mona ne parle pas anglais . Elle vive dans un indifférence de triomphe et turpitude. Alors, c'est la cas... Mona  a vient de marrie une tres belle dame ... So she's content becoming a ravished translator!


come to every willow

Miss wanting her daddy got a a poet of the real in its place. A trouble swindler Iatin hides her ass. Her ass stinks to low heaven and the given boots. She's worn her real estate to prime time.She's a bustler not a hustling do-do bird in the accounting department. A whore by any other name. Banged up the short skirts, and wedded to will power. She's pornography's sister,and the yes saying of her lie is a collusive . yes, you got it, it steels that past nine and time's a betcha got the lies down fat. Shorn of honest paste, she's oiled her gas on the heat. yes, and reeks to beans go foul. As her dirty assed eyes reveal a pickled of brindled shite.

___________Shows up tardy for the lectures on the Gold Fold . Who was it? Anti hoves round his cape tickling himself with laughter's fulsome tatatatonic! No way he revels, go . Now hence you're agone fat. No more fiddle my eye!

_________She peppers her loss and prepares for marination.





Call it apocalypse as your lips are hedge row to the divine servant. Of your song Jill. In bed with Mona and Jacky.Near this hour of three double some love cloy. IS there anymore like this?

__________________________Paris and spring. Jill skateboards. Meses her singularity. She's the double triple ocular coffee of the maker. Creator of being and nothingness the trend setter. A fine adjective paring away her names. By the sensational lava, the canals and craters. A love could never fit in that box, it's opened plain for any to take notice.

Jubilation at its blowing horn ~. Rise you capacious thieves!


Receive the tender

Jilll see you Dido that once more you old shameless huppy! you say des... deinnss.. you mean deinstitutionlaize !

deinstitutiionaliZe_________________Yer crying eyes! mental case of the abominable seven horses! the snow men of the apocaylose!

Close the end of the world! you jam bum!
you wit chase you funk plasterer!


There was no old woman. Of thee sea and land. And outlasting the land and outlandish to your brush with death. You wend you enter you notice you otter. It's your daugher bayjesus!



Looking forward backward and for the many lovers. That woman today walking ambling the street. Dirty old coat housecoat pants. under. Schizo mental case dismisedfrom hopital. Deinstirutionalizaation. On meds... dont help..

_________________________ Twisted along the babarian foal. The barber shop pole taken down gone up. Swift the Norse bully bearing on top of the gloom ridge picture of its necessary pace.

So Mona in plainest English-Irish sleeps with Jill and Jack, and becomingliving ever after in their happiest menage a trois!