Jill says

 its gotta be an ontological shakedown dig

______________ So someone says/ Shake shake it to west /east
                    south to her mouth
She's lip little sinker to her crying drum beat banging hip swinging seat of the godesss. the modest one at that too. Jill's got her be to be in her down and out double becoming like any old wave across the caving ocean.a  Mind belt of giving and taking . she's held rusk to her sand long time enough. knows better a territory than a diary whether it's between communism gender unbiblical an bitch we've done worse.

Call of the wild! it is and more of less it's tune to a fine home play pal.
O dear O me O my you capiliast i.o.u.  i am you.



She hehes come to the bed . She s stayed there. Her and here was. It to her funsome .  Her fellosome fellshome not a navy beatitude.

and she in love

dont gaslight me dude.

Jill's in love with lumpenspace princess a thousand leagues under the C. of communism and other . and she.

AnyHOW . 
Along comes the real gal one fine day with braided hair and rings around her feet her galloping toe  and consumate skin the color of rose tinted tiny glow and the dark plastic Jesus herself.a real crucifixion and believe you me, the real bandana ain't the same. a banana up the soft ass wasnt quite what she'd prepared herself for unto like these is the queendom of heaving heaven. her gender free belly button knowing the craven cutlass of clitoris.

  But for certain's as day has a dainty price
she was in love with

lumpenspace princess 

Gods bless her folding ass! an armchair of lotions! to this wretched sun of the third degree!.


hER stay

How do you hold your close net thing that? O a recipe? a Latvian woman strolling  long the promende summer snow falling  crumbling at the curb of deterritorialization. It would be that as heard her singing came to collect a calm edge not heathened however weathered by a strong storm life's butter usual. O her, you say, unusual? no, not usually, but its not usual.
 O I see Miss Antigone . Is that your weaker claim to laid out escaped foundation necessity it must be the shape of a glad talking pair of buttocks shaking their hand to heavensworth a dialectic I'll say!

__________ perfume prepare that signature to rough aside your hand    no one come to stand beside this committed 'engadged' delivery o f the stork to the honly god homily in downtown south of chaos pleasusre anatarchy';s young sister. Not even a classical mouth! dropping drooping can get this tent working

O Mona! your silly is the two.



Duck Soup «« Flat World Square Head ---

ah said Frannyto her one night. We need to shoot the ducks
once and for all and stop all this ..

then Jill saith where is my daughter? My daughter ? and my Nomad

and Mona said I am the man who becomes courage like a lion

and in those days there was a lion de coeur named Jill. and

she was.

and so there was an idea, at least one little idea said Deleuze
quoting the Beckett character named Molloy.

and so it was in the 4th year after the recordings and the desire
that desired its own repression spoke.


Let these damn epistolaries unfold! unravel in time! make their dogs! bite! Hurray!

flat world/Square head!

Flat chested Joan of Arc was her lover and saint.
> Soup du jour wrote:
> >
> > The world is flat. When one puts a stick in the water, it bends.
> > Telescopes are creations of devils. Atoms are indivisible.
> > Earth is at the center of all things. God could make His uni-
> > verse only of perfect circles. Do you really mean this? Reality
> > is text.

mONA Was Crawling through the archives and found this. Ah yes.
She said. Lovely Berkely.

The Bishope. Ah yes.

then later the phone rang it was Franny or Fanny.

the VOice said!

I am Felix Gay tarri torializations

So all please go there now with your sticks as I am text sex and



A million Jills


 Mona enters a desperate plea a  testimonial her stage is alone's she's not globe to her goggle!
A million words and more but who gives a damn except you and a shuffle of a handful

I am desperate to love life but they won't let me.
Theres's my  ring of the day term.
Print it it might make a fortune for libraries one day!

kISS THE moon Jill
she's short and long winded.
A blessed thing stuck between her ears, and wired
by iambic pentameter.____________________oNE BiLLion Singing Plateaus John Coltrane.

Jill's at the corner making winddings------------------

__________Franny's got the hippy-hippy shakes!


Franny's inlusions_pre


franny's inlusions included the uussuaalll truble? or / it 's the other denim forest forget knot

the last time, i was in france, after leaving greece __ whata nicemess of chaos that was . she went  with us, to his grave 

                       (saying nothing of collusion disinterred junction at lip and nether beck)
  in the south  with my daughter, we met Felix's daughter, E, she's got at   a story about those ending 
 dime  and the day was cool

it welcome d  us

 and reminded me , of us, and them back a, in , at , in Vincennes, St. denis,           
                                                                                                                                                              it was  a crying time___-shoosh, i don't mean that way _ but the table afterward, and over   _ well, lines                           are                 like that aren't they ?
                         the            o       n              e s       coming later   ....

of reminding willow, and elm , too , then we went on the boat , to another place,

                                                  (Saint-Léonard-de-Noblat )
we came off the Irish sea.

i t was petulant was , it? it was petulant ,  as a  flower might be a  petal of preened feather and bow-tie gather.

flounced by a flounder's becoming a metamorphosis of love breath, and 



tilts her chin

                         This way  tilts her chin  ~  Miss Jill the night's heat's your harbinger. Not a binge, or hard tasked bay but a pulling want to need what's given and lovin. O  saith Jill my Mona's come home at last deterritorializing her thing, and trinket will to better its boot. She's that way to any given close ass.


               On the better bus her breasts topped out as teacups, two hard bananas, a duet of wondering minstrels, careful butts sewn  and seen, on the butt of time.Her carefull shirking after Jack's smile  Oooh this was pudeur at its worst. After all, what were those breasts doiing? sticking up , wanting to be looked after, cared for, tenderrized as love bird


to let


                                My izba comprizes dinner for two. In this heimat of the humlet well huger-mugger the jewel.Jona's to let as Jilltomona Oona's you-ger sitter.Majesty majesty her harem's see through address is a guest's ringtoe to the calling of the impossible woman, what a man needs. This pretence of loving its culled from crape weeds and bum's burning asses!

   to let 5 dollars!

More gawd anon or beglover to yoursake seek.



why i am a victrola

_____________A muggy day in the four degree forest. Jill and Jacky. Jack Delouse. A real slam something dinger of din. A din! din din din!

Jacky on stage in the virtual precedence of his theatre____________ thus

why am a victorian poet

 why i m  hart crane

 does your heart CrAnE? ReachIng Up an Out  O my hart panteth

a  frilly collle of

a  flipping  .. O what does   yes the german say?

Jill: Appllause plause plos!

_________________ Bowing exiting right left and forward. Rear your horses.



  rOLl an Surge 

Gear and tear/ joy of the crowd

  ______________________________   this '   ~centerpiece' of mystery and joy

(i used loud before / not good as it's a blandishment of the perfect balance  in the sigla)

  Mona's in cassock, greca (the long coat) and Roman hat.  She aint a priestess but she's a  man of god whomsoever the bells toll they tell (an toll) for you  ~  thee in the extraordinary pronoun. Of which there's plenty in a hunkin' nose, downtown. In the coliseum Lions Roar. it's the gold cassock suit at the dawn ringing the reign of light the extended love affiar across the world afire..

                        (we gathered in the loggia) 

                                Tombs, rooms and catacombs , honey hives, ringing beads, row on row rosary an roar
                                               this is where the god comes
                            flying crucifix in the praying
                                        bowing father
                                                    in the rain

                                                          at twilight's Rome   ~.

 back in france, the eldest daughter of the church  
    a cry    of some existentialist caper
     perches beneath  the

  the bells of Notre_Dame
         ringing louder than the ecstasy of ten thousand saints hosannas hosanna
                     singing in the skies



Limpring prolo

                                             Intersubjecti Intersubjectivity making  with Lim Intersubjectivity making  with Limping prolo.vity making  with Limping prolo.with Limping prolectivity 

making  with Limping prolo.vity making  with Limping prolo.with Limping prol


This cold of beauty's your name. Hoar to the frost of its block the tenement rulling throng and its beast burn song. the bad man thinks yelling makes him a poet speaking for others. Not their word or his song, but their's . So he clamoursly claims . Mona brushes him off a fool to his bursting melody. A farce t o his cruel song, melody maker of a crying upstart a hooey blower on the whale of suffering's particular joint

This is the cool tea's mace, history's chopping rock.


Esther on the bilge

  God could use help no? donyyouthink as the worl's collapsing ridge inside the if of morpheme... it shall weave auspices

 by the many loving manyofmore  reacing its toward night. A knight clopping clopping to redeem? Assisting the god in her efforts. A flueink galow not a parched rag rammer... we've been becoming courtesy and gallantry we're not sure this love

Not does but the mouth hods  whisper. it's a another word on the plate. Not a appollo destiny  but  afate built around necessity the   sigh of the crown and wink   her parlay and this parliamentary lover... Not broker to broker a  brother's easly forgotten as is a dumb arse  .A friend of longterm turns out to be an ass of the piddle pot
How do you end the king?  but the  green movers know their game creating the paranoia fits with the match... Alone till his gang grabbed him from sinking but never reached nor wne to help  the others   but grew his self machine forever his rotten self... Not a knight

 Not a knight but a bight  of the deathwish . Holding the of .


~over then are you?

    Soviet princess (my lover , of priveliege and mighty) held to her communist dog. Hegel's hanky and a midriff plump. working by the slave of dialectic and running instituons she knew her true was true. And not necessarily scrolled blue to the loo of the rock and winding pedal ringing toes to the  arrival of her purr meek sun. Soviet process held fast to the work of chain and the Circes of history the open plane heart .

Gussy up baby we're in the navy.

Mona loves Soviet Princess. Clubbed to her veteran window.  All the return of hipstory blanched and balanced the wreck of knights. Queer and otherwise, contrawise to her widow weeding black.

Every new takes things  ~ 



~ in the deep refridgerator


 In  the deep freesze lover.    Wake up it's o ver
  pain frost lies and war. leaks and secret trysts hanging on by the teeth

  and the plainful painful bending of the flower

 if you sleep don't sleep
  there's love and company in the twilight zOne! thasts Mona rerun and the amethyst chain

Over the noster you got the coster no its the cozening on Villeneuve with ripped up papers not a method  but a steering finding acting    ~ it was what it was not something else it was what it was not something pretending to be anything other bbut

bububut that  hours and Molly in the kitchen was that her what became of her and you were heading to France that summer again hearing the live lectures and the fervor of fire in the air as the advancing plane and wave of love swept its hour journal across the page



she's pluralistic


She's pluralistic when she's got time. Got time you say? She say  it . Rubbing elbows with the refrigerator ~

    but a shrinking page and stinking age wars by her feet tumbled agains the block lift her higher and higher.  Ooopppss there goes a sideways leap~. She's bounced again to eternity and its high transcendence .  O eternal ghost of the inlove to time's toe to toe saunter.

She's become this very thing  not in itself but by itself a supple smile a solitary smile on her face   ~   .

A meaningful operetta


Mona's pluralistic part-time that's not wharfed by the partial dent o f sideass
becoming. A tart to play her day a tune ringing her night.

Pluralistic Mona when she's got time.

             J I took you to bed in my mouth on paper. Thank you thank you very much for          becoming a full mouth of verse and not a curse or what's worse hanging to the edge of                         the bed with a book of beads and gum. As any other thing becoming  a pear a bitter clove a stranger becoming holding her head neighing                      

back from the nave of the hanging ridge and  a flaky sun too    ~

                                 O Jill!~ O  buttocks! O veins!~ dont waste your mouth on  bourgeois dreams! The word tucks its merit to her face killing the instant of postcopulation bills and bliss makes its way out a long way ~

Is there a  beat to this concession a woman pushed up against a wall will strike back! If she cant find another road through won't she? 
a twisting cloud crumbling at her feet leaves the tearful Christ alone a son at the dogmoon's bone wondering what can  come of this.