Thursday

Jill is...



  Jill is like Jack they go up then down the hill. with a bucket full of water. But the night is a daring thing with rivers galore to it. She's different than her father who's warned (her) of high tide and malarkey.

   But what of that? she's wondered often her self to her self the din of drumming tartars making breakfast as the orient rises, and her teeth wonder.

Too perhaps. But not a nod to the thing in-itself nor the elbows eloquently placed on the table. That's raining by the enormous kennel of the forest.

    Or a word close to it. A word close to it and it's packing and preparing and swearing lunch bags must fit into the open sack. That's the way it goes in that normative sun in. where the wheat shine? who  are you kidding you mayhem monkey an this tornado.

______________________________ | Okay Mona has no one to speak about this totem nor this rotating fish that's blanking every spoon. Each spring that emerging comes along as any seasonal strut would and the clandestine hidden of age's better known product. Being what if I may ask Fanny's turn turn and turn around. A season of control and patrol.  A thing must keep its word or there's no one left to hide.

Fanny might be flat-cheated downright looking like a regular barber's pole but she's got a butt to make up for it.
her hips were made to lather! meaning smooth as butter for a lover's  what shall I say rubbing, eloquence? a simple make over in the passing of camp. Ovaries and sequins  suspeneded in night. And she's the knight hidden by the fox tracking down the trespassers, bears, growling things, prowlers coming off a run, and something else, silver, chalices, plates of bronze, bas-relief calenders and onyx and gold tipped teeth. And her heels are glimmering shining under her sandals.

 Now back to the philosopher . what were you hinting at for to become commiserating in your lambkins.

A philosopher was recommending that the written word was not trustworthy! well was he now, indeed he was.
                               A feathered cap ! it was controlled by a thief and her bandolero.

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Sunday

cement year


                                                                             cement tears / fears/ years

 Anti _ changing a consonant   changes the picture the sound picture . Pitcher of balance and walking sauntering word


Ssss . what's the arrow the future landing in its spell bound neck.

A dream body

________




Jill has a body but it's a dream   she's reckoned it's a fork in the road? a positive thing possibly . Trying to catch the objectivity of     thing? trying to catch the objectivity of things.

it's that river flowing out of her head


A dream body not the quantity of dates .


 What does that to do with philosophy and the daily heart ache of living. Plodding or breaking down the street your knees

   the night the air
                        the non-traveller   .


   But you can't see between the eyes.

   What's that Jill doing with? a  lost pagette . It's got to do with bikinis and banana ? a rink round the sudden sud, the kid shitting  his pants on the way  home a double long walk with cross eyed Linda, hey the best  ~ .


_________________ Now that's fiction as it's never been exposed. A bright gleam a shine a widdershin cloaked in bight and blight has borne the fafafafafffixed fortune




~  _____________________





 

Saturday

Jill had her gill

 Jill had her gill. Her g enetic bode rhyming with code mustering over the clear clean sky. Adjectives. Not ject with the trill of

   her shadowing body burning


    Jill had a hound dog a  way of life. She's cluttered in the white between  g  and the note clarion  D. Shes' hugger mugger to its state. She's Mona to her jennyanydots.

What happened to jennyanydots and her heart felt worship?


Crackled between the empirical and hysterical she's got the riverread rush. the whoosh of its such a prorogued sound of parlez vous she can't eat.

Ovver you mouth! Mona come it to my back and  the hard king by the thing.


Call it a hotdog crush and Time's Duration. Or the body of paradox or bead and whip. Something. A mouth filled with water? No that word not good enough. Rye field? wheat? spending that loot on those vaccine she does . fitter sister than that, Antigone. A reign on her head. Not the elite but the complete  god as they are. Farther than Opps the p.a. system is broke.


Rain falling and Franny's got her goose.


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