29 Feb 2008

the arse of mercury. a pantheon unbleached. beached. bitched.

suRRound the gap

visit: suRRoundism for more...

Huhnz versee 0022, prayers to azula.

[PLAY ALL at once for more great fun!!!]

28 Feb 2008

chunky substance

homage to KD Matheson's blue angel

crumpets and stoned

living on the farm with spasmo grain.
cheap little mouth without any brain.
flying round the house looking for receipts.
digging out foil with livid deceipts.
romance rides a horse that forever creep.
the only lesson learnt is life is cheap.

better take the bitter pill
better take the bitter pill
bitter full of better
belly full of swill.

hearing tuned to listening for solid beats.
rap doesn't cut it when the thrill retreats.
the widow is a spider sliding down cut glass.
the future nails the present that claims the past.
the past is passing like a whispered sigh.
dreaming of a distant time, christ knows why?

better take the bitter pill
swallow it down
bitter full of better
belly for the clown

taxes for the taxman driving it on.
feeling for a strange truth that now has gone.
spinning like a jenny on the turn of tide.
up and down the blunt fruit they hang to glide.
casting for a finger the ring to spin.
watching all the head skulls gratefully grin.
jamming my rail pass with broken weeds.
hungry for the white lines oblivion speeds.

belly for the bitter pill
belly for the short thrill.
belly full of swill


pervatrocity vega

scrambled / faces appear up the crawl of muscled back / logos / idents / more than bodies in a bricked up room / dead tourists / the terror of OWL / twit and wooo throttle the darkness / rotating heads look for new torsos / bag snatchers / glue sniffers / child lovers and the detritus of thought in a secondary surface of being homeless / being apart / a leg / a lung / an arm / separated from the main trunk / from siblings / those twins of automation and pedestrianised peripheries of tarmac / sunsets in tins of paint / colour in the cheeks / rounded / reddened / the disease of boredom treated with a switch / a song of swish thwack squeal / anal-ysis / low slung NHS chairs in place of brown leather couches / in place of discovery as I had imagined it / busts / books / cigars / antique ambiance / she / the trainee psych perched higher / I looked out the window doing my crazy impression / slightly embarrassed / then back / to her crossed thighs / perched higher / in light short summer dress / low slung eyes gliding porcelain / never again did this debutante of the mind administer such sweet medication....

27 Feb 2008



cripple cub

camping million island

friends appear talking to others I don't know / sporadic benches and peachy buttocks / overhanging flesh / leather /chrome / punctured skin and the cleansing confessional / retreat to the boredom bottle / eyeballs tattooed with images of copulation / slick fingers / folds of skin / soft / wet / strings of slime emerge to lick a face / eyes flutter like cherries on a fruit machine / a one armed bandit comes to some sort of resolution / in a sock / on a keyboard / on slick pages of nubile fissures framed by nylon and voyeuristic gazes / fresh skin / summer moisture evaporates / pleasantly / cool imaginations congeal / cluster in the dust and the attrited metals / rusty / flakes / spots of lichen on dulled aluminium / a hover car mulls by / fleeting sound / futures / diagnosed / cancer on the chuffshoot / the end of a finger / in the promise of a cigarette.... ahhh inhale.

Julien Donkey Boy...

Dalai llama serenades goose wrench with his vaginal discharge pipe instrument.

Visions collide

She colored her tongue infatuation
that cursed his feet as they lifted off the ground.
Krishna's atomic hill. I'm still in bed.
All the tales of God in war.
Fighting my way through the wires
that birthed the sound.
Visions collide.

thoughtless action

26 Feb 2008

Mutton gusset souffle, senor. Limp through the cloisters, up the stair-lift and past endless choirs of copulating hyenas. O Romania! Lift me onboard the egg-wagon one last time, then quickly fry spittle in the broken yoke afterbirth of shoes.

Before you came back from Egypt I coughed reams of consumptive algebra; all leave was cancelled. Petri-dish skyline over sunken Alabama backstreets: tramps hoist up their trousers; the waitresses revolt. Moon-pocket lepers assemble a miniature collage of shrunken tumours. Mussolini, mon amour.

Drag a lobster-pot behind your car, my tricky little polka-dot lesion. Fifteen frightened children and a piano made of bread.

Nelson Magalhães Filho. Mista s/papel, 70X50 cm


blooming shoes / petal like and limp

waking in my shoes / blooming like a ribcage in a morgue / a betrayal / a serpent / a soft nihilism that talks angrily to itself / hopeless addiction hides a great anger at the shell that hides it / bloated / corpulent / fat for fucks sake / round and with children / functionworthies the idle workers for the soporific image / hate / uselessness / hate / oh she won an oscar I shall suck on the marrow from her bones / frail broken bones / ejaculation sounds wear suits / she calling for him / she breaking him down / comes across his brain with red nails / scratching / scoring her name into frontal lobes / delicate....

25 Feb 2008

Filthy art.

You claim me like the edge of static, revolving as a finished vinyl sounds through the speakers. My dreams dissolve like uranium that triggers the gun that kills the cat that was alive and dead. Tickle the missile as it tops the charts this week. Its already been downloaded more than it's sold. Odd. I somehow gathered that the film we ingested was as confused as it was backward, raped and injected like a seal we clapped and danced each time for a glimpse of her bosom and the sounds she made as she held the trigger. My right hand was itching. "lets touch the screen" and we did.

We always did.

Together we hijacked a bookshelf and crashed it into physics. As the up and coming threat of intellectualism transfers into the distance and interferes with a diagram. Clearly you can see interference (diagram 2.1). You claim me like the obtuse angle of the camera during anal sex. Your new point of view in the world where newspapers are your gas masks in the preceding chaos that reigns from Mon-Wed. Chase me like a ghost when the world gets a glimpse of her dislocate-able jaw as it slides over it's prey. To think we could all be speaking rising sea levels and temperature changes, severe weather conditions and the likes.

But you can't take her to the bank to cash those tears. x2.

If you take away my fears you'll give me nowhere to hide.




marrow pod (click to watch)

24 Feb 2008

not a man with whom to fuck


arbus 1000 eye

Coconut-shell skulls 1-3

star fingers

23 Feb 2008


minski charity spon-ret mouth mouth mouth

Harpy Jettison Jefferson Worm

1968 - 2008 (2)

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