{Junipers sooner your lunar clipped tubular}

I
CLIMBED
OVER the walrus it just got raw this urbanite sprawl kiss floating on straw mist playing with fall gliss floating through breeze on an clementine jaw hit couldnt keep all his concepts in mall bits standing in line with a present day brawl tip took out of context couldnt keep convexed concaved the rest and crest was in time flex but jesting with rest and the test of the best was the standing abreast to the crest of the CREST!!!

I
JUMPED
INTO a girrafe it couldnt help to laugh at the staff on my raft as i floated adraft into seas of receipts with recpient treats treating me treating he treated to it by the and the key to success was unlocked in a door and padlocked by more than a saddened decour that was sure to become the most dorable door that did dorn micheal tore at the thorn of the corn and with pricks he was plucked and the crows that did suck from the wounded would wound while wound round a tomb into rooms where the bloom was decided to groom for the groom didnt plan to dip in so SOON!

I
RAN
AT my coyote it pleasantly drove me afar on the gold sea and seeing how boldly the road that it sold me was kept inside two trees that werent even hoping for timberlakes scolding or scalding by maudling and medling in nesting but cresting on destiny deserted desperately tested in vests into secretive pressed white teas left inside your disease pulled too hard left to squeeze invited chests by these unopened deputys dropped out of desert trees plopped on to your left knee dropped on your socks i said yes please yes PLEASE!!!!

I
SWAM
AWAY with a dolphin that waddled at golfing with fin he began to descend into balding and eagles were calling long distance from spalding that ruffled a waffle and wept at a LOGGING!!

TWENTY-NINE MAY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{IT SMELLS LIKE APPLE JUICE!!!}

the gerbil  devoured a sandwhich of which ant bitch ate off and which canned fish planned this to sand tips and land ticks what the band rips and when we land it like we handed offten ranted seldom scanted took the plant in sheltered cran which man made manwich manish man wish whats in a man that isnt a man and who is the man who held out his hands who planted his trance who ate of the dance and lapped of the prance that the prince fade into lance and joust and cat o nine held out mine into the mine shaft stonewalls next but never the new emporer we always knew of her she was the queen who never ruled and who couldnt pool the people into the pull of gravity who had it all but smashed it mad at me and didnt want what she had had and he hadnt waited longer than raggedy and the goddamn plan went out of whack and we had to throw it back into the trash that passed and wafts into the breeze where the sleeze of the air devours the showers of hours and hurdles hate backwards into its stream up until the present is backwashed with the last lofts of historys planned rennovations we always go back to the plan goddamn but what happened to the plan oh man!!!!
why would a fellow want a girl like her? a girl whos merely lovely!!!
why the fuck would you even once concour to continue singing songs that have past into the past and past the expiration date red hatred scathed dead and played feds for the narcs but couldnt BARK THE LARK!!!
no meaning and no consense but census yes and seizure yes and coruption yes and maybe no but we still dont know where to go where where where do i go and i cocentrically loop like a record that records the wrecks of words that stream through my arms and dont stop before my brain or after my finger tips until i smash the letters back into my brain to try and drain the constraining containment of consciousness that we dont want to let free but left it dead and fleed and we were freed of our deeds that we plead to heed to some higher power than our own so we stand on our heads and look into a mirror and are confronted with ourself confronting the postulate from opposing angles and cancel ourselves out and we strain to be brought back into existance but fail at failing and end up derailling this goddamn train of thought that paid to get out at the plot of land that we still have not defined the plan the plan yes the goddamn fucking plan!!!
what of this plan said the man who cant perform and the actors smiled at him and defiled him with words of action and the poets thought of him and defiled him with actions of words and the man looked behind him and saw the image of you disapearing into the mirror and clearer and clearer than clearasil made by desaturating your face with a peel away effect stood proudly errect and declared to the world that he was rid of the weakness that grew without him and within his chin grew a grin and a smile but still he was defiled and deflated and the woman who had waited had died of boredom and scored some valium before she rallied them into her mouth and out of her south came the north that he craved and when he reached nanook he found out that he had the goddamn plan the whole goddamn time but too bad because he got eaten by an orca who planted orchids for orchistras and what the hell does any of it mean he cried and than he died because of the convienance of rhyme and slime grew over him and he became permafrost and all was lost into the grey disgust that is city snow and now you know the story of the man who existed to exist in my story and his quarry that he left the the quails who quarrel with quasars and pulsar pigeons  who put their pick in stuck the stick in lucked with linked in  but still have stinkin parcels partnered with their ankles and plumit quickly into the sand where their packages become peaceful with the afterlife and the pigeons get stepped on by the children who played in the box and all the kids like sue and jill and jack and sam get together the pieces of the pigeon and they piece together the plan oh yes the plan! the goddamn fucking pigeon plan that nanook gave to the pigeons before he became devoured by a carnivorus idol of freedom that flew and inside of the gastronomy we find the last want of the man who had the plan all along and his wishes were that the fishes take over the plan but we canned the damned fish in the first line of this and again fall into the trap of cyclical creation and devestated the epoch that was squandered from craigslist to do the dishes goddamn it do the dishes do the 
GOD
DAMN
DISHES!!!!

FIVE MAY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{ these count for today but only because im tired..}

 One's upon a tie, my two was three fork hindsight i five rhymed right

together my eyes are opening and closing like muddled masts. i will be forced to cut them down in time.
fictional subconscious seeps through into a shakily vivid sphere. i confuse its field with actuality.
distinctive and familiar, feign faces speak in twisted tongues. there are no words, just harbored lips.
the limbs i carry cannot take flight as i uncontrollably sail above. winds can only take me so far. 
defeated or victorious, i look up to my only destination. the sky falls below, taking my trust with it.
i cannot tell what is a dream or a distant memory. i cannot be judged without a name.

- Aelnaxedr MuCdrcy?

 WritersChoices said...

But I can sentence you without shame and place in you my blame! and a name to your game is the name you have slain you have maimed you have tamed and displayed as your personal pet but were better off yet with the letters still wet from the internal pen dipped in your soul that pees black that glees at all of that that you leave in that sack of a body of bones that contain meat that reaps meaning for me from the tissues for issues of the disuse of kiss you cannot, miss you, cannot wish you but will this do? yes will this do! yes will this do!!

FIVE MARCH TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

>Waxing?< {a gift of words}

Black! Black! The sky is black! Crescent, dots, window plots, open heart and open plane for open eyes to open gaze on circle dots moon plots moon dots moon hots shot caught shot. not. please me. please me. pick me. please me trick me freeze me nothing less than melt me felt me yes the sun sleeps when I shelter do not moon waves when nights start fade when lights grow haze when haze grows haste when haste breaks hope when hope is lost by lost crossed lost not lost here lost times lost is LOSTXLOST! and drawn across the hand that holds the pen that grasps the hope that gasps but where did it go and where did it get to why is it lost and does it have friends who hope that its heart is heavy with health who rebuild all the shelves that deter from the shells that shelters will dwell when the dread lies ahead of your pillow in bed and your head is consumed by the sounds of your room and the sights without lights and the shades of the night when we shake not from fright but from possibilities inside of ourselves from the shelf that is our self that the H is before I but after I is J and after me is who? and after you? that too? can we contain? can we restrain? can we refrain? can we abstain? can we be trained! and in training is straining of the mind or the soul the desirable hole to enter below before we shall blow before we shall know before we can go where we go when we know we are known and in knowing are we showing? what were showing isnt growing but it is rowing and it is flowing and the flow that has fled from my head to my bed is it best to be bettered by butter or batter or to bat her with a saturday that is saturated with sadness and hate or to sit back and wait to hear the delay but never the presence? the resonance is recent and is combined with a line from a much older rhyme a rhyme about rhyme that we rhyme with a rhyme for the sake of its self is the sell that we failed, but if you teach me i will have been taught and if you learn me I will have been learned and in learning we are all turned into the one thing that we all yearn and is it knowledge or bliss for itself? can we decide which desire to shelve? can we divide ourselves from the shelves? for the shelves are just storage for things we can't sell and the sill of the window is dirty as well but not as a well oh well oh well well well we were well before we fell ill and doubted our health for the heathens have happened upon their own hell and have opened the doorway from heaven to yell what they followed with their falling from the places they dwell and the cabs that they hailed were nailed to untell of the stories of hail they hailed from above from the heavens where hail was below the suds of the soap that the burped from clouds filled with love and sent rounds off the sounds of the clouded undones in doing what wasnt what wasnt it dumb what wasnt it young wont wouldnt it come back to wonderful want and wondering what it wouldnt wait wasnt the worst way to while the day for a day for a dollar for a dollop for a doll drop for a pall bared by bears in garb of others wrought hard wouldnt ought to think yards of miles of inches between the belted loop orien waxed wanting to be in the heavans in the stars in the dark in the night out of sight but in sight when alone for miles for darkness that seperates is darkness that reveals and darkened was the end of the spaces concealed and cornered and quivering stars that would quiver in dark and quit when the lark would swallow the dark and the black black black night was not night not right not night full of sight seeing in sight but what was sought in the sight was thought lost in the light? where did the night  go how does the moon know white moon right moon black night nice night rich night night night black black black black night black black black black black sky blackend black by!

THREE MARCH TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

>E2P1< (IAMTHEWRITERBITCH) [AKA] {The main character becomes sentient}

FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN than perhaps a flash again? 
eyes open eyes closed cameras on ready to roll out roll in spin spin spin spin flash of genius? flash in the plan? flashes before the fashion is planned and paved and put in place by pretense pretending it previews the pace but fast and steady will always win the race but if he gets to the end before my writers make their choices what will his voice be? will he move towards me? shelves can always be just starting of worries but winter will dwindle the hearth and the farthings apartheid from parts of the art held by something inside shelves and always the green shelves the blue shelves the red and the seen shelves are the known shelves but what about the ones behind the wall? we shall write them away as the writers make their choices for we are the writers whos choices are choice and decisions decide and the boisterous boy who will boast while he hosts the internets posts are the the posts of the ghosts of the girls who had curls but than ironed them straight straighter straightish mail dont call me reference is lost on me and my whale put pails in the pile and behind words we can hide and behind hides we have sights that are fixed in the distance of vast difference and past inference because we MUST SEE WHO PREVAILS ON THE OTHER SIDE! caps lock is okay but he refers to himself in the third person as the first person he sees by the last person to be in the space out of space in the basement is raced by the attic and neither will win because the front door is the only one that can move and it swings ahead to a stunning victory over the shutters who can only run sideways and their blinds will be drawn and painted and sculpted and detoured through the mist of the falling water that escalades and brings ice fades and melts with days in the sun that opens eyes and f stop up change the film stock while eyes are shut edit during sleep play back in words but change the identity unless you stay there long enough than you shall know and haha oh he knows by now he must know but what does he know he surely must know! or is that a question? that is the question! and a smiley face is always appropriate when you know something for knowledge contains the promise of ignorance which we are told is blissful but dismissful of actuallity and causality depend on allity but what is the alli to do ity bity to bite me but if you just see through the cameras can you see what the show will look like in the end? can you hear the soundtrack can you smell the filters that burn when you inhale and can you taste them as they fail? and isnt failure sweet when ends meet and the cycle begins again? can it began? or has it? or will it? the vowel changes everything so a i u whats it to you can you change time with a vowel? for the writers can and these are the choices that we have to make and we shall make them! and where we shall place you is placed in a word and that world is your world and the world is contained in the borders of a page so regardless that it is missing a door, the door is not important not important any more that it won the race not important that it contains a face not important that it is out of place for the door was destroyed to make way for the page and from its chips we made the pulp that made the page and from the ashes we made the ink and that barrier that could swing became a vehicle that you could drive in or be driven in through my words and my words would wake and break the door that still stood but since there is no page there is only light where did the wood go? where did the ink go? the words still exist for you can see them and you are reading them but they have not been written for there is no where to write only space to type but to type and to write are two different things and what does each mean? do they both create words? what is a word can you touch it and taste it for i have tasted the letters in alphabet soup and have eaten that 26 sided die that controls your life but peer deeper inside behind the light and you will see the bright is controlled by sight and the sight that sees is important to read to interpret so the light that is a word is sight that is heard by your eyes from inside of a box from a top of your lap or your desk and a lot of information is contained within that soup that is a sound that surrounds with our without a head phone or a face phone or an ear phone or an eye phone or a sky phone that can talk to the clouds that cover and the clouds that weather and the clouds that cleverly clear the cliffs of endeavors of the soul who was sulking in a skull by the gully and when fully aware of his tears he would tear the paper upon which he had written with words the letters of old to the readers of new and wrapped them in glass and dropped them into a whole that would later fall apart like the parts of the glass that contained the parts of the letter that contained parts of the words that contained parts of the letters that  contained parts of the lines that contained parts of the ink that contained charred parts of the door that was ripped apart when we sealed you in this worlds and gave you those eyes so that you could see and gave you those ears so you could breathe and you can appreciate where weve been for our beans were not lean but fatty and green like the stalk of the bean that jack took up jean when she was asleep and could no longer breathe for she had no ears and no arms to fight back with and her mouth was full so she could not scream as she was engulfed by the gulf and bay took her away and away she sailed tell the whale with his pale came back from the pile and smiled and smiled and smiled and smiled.

TWENTY-EIGHT FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{Valet(ntines) Day}

{

A hand on the small of

the back, a light touch

that none sees but him,

and her, and me, a guitar

a boy a girl

All these things are in front

of me.

Today I offered my seat

on the metro to an 

elderly lady. This afternoon

my copy of Jack Kerouacs's

On the road was stolen.

What I had gained in 

(   ) friendship I have

lost in literatrure. the 

exchange seems fair to 

me.

A liter of sprite, 2 large

fries, a butterfingersbar

these things I have bought.

Later this afternoon

these things I have made

The Valet Parker

Runs like lives will be

    at stake

It's for three dollars

The guitar goes into

the case. The Case

goes On the floor.

The arm goes around

the shoulder.

They do not leave 

the Train.

The girls dress alike.

From behind they look

the saMe. They are

back twins.

A girl sits behind me

and now beside me.

She has not moved.

Occasionally she snaps.

}

{

Somebody dabbed

butter all along the 

top of the parking

garage and now I can

see.

A Bentley zooms past me

at the light.

My Hyundai could take him

}

TWENTY-ONE FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

(monetarymeltdown) [AKA] {beat beat on the drum beat beat tell i come}

once upon a moonlight glory sun told star shine quite a story full of anger hate and rage contained constrained and dipped with sage and rolled in butter and fried all up the sun took up a slimy cup a cup of warmth and tears of joy that tasted salty like a toy a toy for boys is not for yois
i dont know i dont know i dont know cried the three headed crow
cut off a head it still isnt dead!
ABCD what do these words mean to me?
inSIDE outPIED deLIED soldified
once upon a stardust backdrop cupid died and on his back flopped 
would you like a cup of tea?
brewed from oranges and deciet?
or would you like a while instead?
whats in its hile is quiet dread!
and in the dread is something red!
something made of cotton fed, rotting headed, jotting bedded, nodding said it wasnt risen for the roses dozen of them counted moses on the mountain made of snow his piss was yellow only frozen once but twice was under trodden trident tried to rent the center for the purpose of dissention strewn through hems to rim the golden only otters take their tokens for the bus of busted ropes and buster better bus the togas towards the tables tossed in tarter tasting trails of toucan totters tates of late will clean the plate of rusted rakes and busted fakes who bussed the rust and rested the rest while the rest went out and festered and smelt of smut and of smoot and they ate what they took but what took what they take wasnt taken abate and the rectified nanas went abso bananas for regans most banaly bentwardly raisins
a raisin is a reason of a raised son to make treason on the meaning of the scene in which the reason rest on reason!
grease the gaffle grease the gun plug it up but just for fun take out all the nuts and bolts replace them with your dreams and hopes and tighten quite the holds and steady ready for the shaken teddy who rapes the grapes who all seem petty to the wines of older levy
levy levi levitate hold the leaves and shake the rake and stamp your feet if you feel so inclined as long as once you are not mine...

EIGHT FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARgh}

hot mess got stress all the rest i must confess is festering and jestering and pestering to get pets but pets became the pests we crave and in their name we gave their pledge except the rain that drowned my hedge inside the brain that found my leg 

chop it off on the block put it on a chimney rock sink into the ocean brown and watch the seaweed watch you drown 
put it in a hair tie put your head in to a rare tie stroke a silky smooth guy while waiting on the french fry
hot potato save for later get your self a selfless hater 
put him in a wooden box atop a spot of pointed knocks
knock on wood and wood will knock on you on top of pointy socks
while someone points with pointed cocks the top will block the sacred box
but open up and step inside umbrellas for the widowed bride whos window we shut open wide with stones of bridges always cried
we crossed the bridge we spent a ridge for cliffs of id my ego waited superbly my new herb squeeze will play out three of stirred them please
we play a game we ate the same thing we ate each on yesterday while chester waits for lesters game of gayful gleaming gains
hot mess play a game of chess play it on my chest while were looking for my breasts 
my breasts are ripe when theyre in sight but sightly seems to sink in deep
so what visit my hut stay in a rut while i gut you
i wont hold it on you but against me with you stuck inside me
once we ate glee while you spit food at the brown tree that died nightly from the tide
windows close on open doors which close on lawns of green 
so fertalize while inside dies to kill the outdoor just some more
hot heat a/c turns me on when it gets cold so i warm it up and savor the cusp of realitys rating raked leaves
hammer head hammered bed calls my name but never finds me deep sleep canned meat cant eat the rinds
rising sun get a gun shoot a head and skillful meds

FIFTEEN DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(alcoholpluswritingequalsfail) [AKA] {why why why why apple pie makes me sigh}

cannot try to eat the pie for slices slice me six ways slimy climbing higher rising faster than the filling cabinets finding lost inside the folder holder man killer manilla vancouver stand hoover suck screwed yer next pluto just food for fodder thought lots is locked behind the brain cant access without a pass thats good and unconstrained not tonight took a flight fell to fast flapped so hard took the bottle smashed too hard its over 

TWELVE DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{skim it off the top but top it off a lot}

napalms nectar mistletoes miscariage missed the carraige to misses sarahs sarah said her toes were red and didnt want to wet them
flour the corn deflower your horn power is born when showers are storms and when sores are not sour and jowls are not foul but the fairgrounds howl at the dawn of the moon
minuet mini tete plate of scepter cape is festered laced with resperation flighty sanctions werent invasions simply gradients
black to white from left to right and right at sight we left the night and took the day and stole the way that we took back to sodom's play
hope you have a happy ending hope  the story wasnt gory tori tormented cory with percible's new jaw
jaw bone telephone picked up one on the way home 
dropped it off at aunties shop and paid me for my troubles
me me me me all about me always just me broke my troubled shattered dusty frontal running protrude scuff me 
hear the sine and hear the wave but cosign for my doctors slave in and out without a doubt a play on time for once in his life
intertwixt and intertwined and enter twix with cookies tied to chocolate and the caramel ice cream caramel right scenes scare odell but not when he has fare to sail on boats and coats will run with tails 
hickory dickory fickory dock we did that already so smoked with a clock the hickory wood was out numbered by flames and the parting part pardoned the party today
in a shameful play for fame the crocodile ate his only mane for which he saved a scathing raid on tigers temples twisted tang

SEVEN DECEMEBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(emotionsthatrushinwhenyoufindyourfriendinyourboyfriend) [AKA] {ouch ouch ouch ouch the couch the bed the heart the mouth...}

treachery deceit, discreetful deceit, displacement deceased entanglement with me injection with he interning with trees and plowing disease and placing in me what i placed into thee but knowing what he is inside of with thee with i watch upon the watchtowers believed to have bled its heart into the sea and washed out salted baltimore me and replaced in its place a piece of the three that remain down below and in heaven it snows so soft and so white and its awkward at night when you witness the fight and then flight is the instinct that takes down your mind and your body goes down and four floors you go down and the sounds in your mind and the sounds from your mouth are both soon drowned out by the drowning of drought and the doubt starts to grow and it slowly will toll and will tax and it smacks you in the face for its lack of a statement and great men will be beaten while the weak will still grow and ever closer to the end when we know and can look back and laugh like we did in the streets when we were awake when we should be asleep and the words we said then are unknown but to win them back we must plan our attack the assault begins when the deed began but we want no war and you play with your whore while i slam the door: in my mind: not this time. this time is extremely like we said before when we tried to close the door and you cried over freshmen while i lead you back to his den which was your den and just then when i couldnt open up the door and i knocked ever softly incase you didnt answer and answer you didnt because of the insect that was biting you down and strapping you up and throwing you down and slurping you up and sticking it in and feeling you up and looking me down and sizing me up and you listened so closely but from so far away and ever i question your motives that day and the book for the cook what was its place and the days i was away just made it easy but the days i am back now you will lack the thing that is me but in my place he will place his piece inside for free he charges no fee soon will move on and still youll lack me and wouldnt you see that the night isnt dark when we drive without speed and deep inside art we know were apart and years before gears will start taking a part of me apart ap art taught me nothing that i couldnt teach to myself and we know we must dwell to drill into our souls and mine black gold from my blackened heart and profit on our pity of ourselves for the riches are never ending when you own the wells and the refineries but finer then me was the shortstack and three eggs scrambled while the syrup soaked up the butter and he cut her waffles with watchful eyes and she wouldnt deny and it was all extremely fine for the fork in the knife and the spoon could not lie and so it fled and fell off the table and the metaphor wrapped itself in upon itself and repeated itself inside of itself and soon the shelf couldnt be held up by words alone because the words were to heavy and the cupboard grew weary of the repetition that was within and without a doubt it gave itself out and fell flat about the remains of its southern regions that soon would heave again and ill see you later is what it said and only the triangle would laugh for it was the most sturdy structure in nature but when it is inverted and isosceles it is extremely volatile and will start its trial internally for the interns that we sent to the trees were soon made to see that only growth could become of deceit and only souls would loose their comfy cushions against the heart and soon the thrusts would be pushed into the plushness of the flesh that came quicker then the bread that took days to make and an hour to bake and so thus the conversation said

hello are you in there
this is awkward
extremely
ill see you later

SIX DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{tonights head lights tomorrows bed fights}

thoughts pool like cess inside of me
words swirl around and contaminate the purity of my existence
and then i wake up from my delusions of poetry, i stand errect at the window and glance below at the people, slow lee walks across the road followed by the shadow of growth and the lights of hindsight with the tail lights in reverse but the skip card was played before hand and we no longer go behind us to the answers from our past and the answers from our future havent reached us yet because they went by snail mail which was in deed to slow but in print too crisp and in passing too fastly but too much past me and too much lost me or i lost it but this is it and this is what ive got and ive thought and ive thought and ive sought and my cot is like ice my thoughts are like hot my thinking is just not and my mind is in knots but this is what ive got and by god ive got a lot but inside of my pod is a fee thats a lot like me but not me and not she and not the answer so the answer must not be inside myself inside a pod inside my mind so where can i find the answer that never got here by post the most we can hope for is that the friar didnt switch the poison with the elixer so hell fix her but fix me a sentance for insistence of indifference to my passing on the road a casting of a most unfortunate person who played the piano partialy exposed 

TWENTY-FOUR NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(iturntwentyinninteenhours) [AKA] {super nintendo sega genesis}

standing at the center of a sentence my pretencions  gains a presence hates the reverence takes the reverend only then can we end what the people must begin can we vote and can we hope to vote on hoping can we toke or can we joke about the only place were roping not the same as the ending of the ends that were frayed still we gave the slave a grave and took him to the page
my mind works wonders and my rhyme twerks others but the time that i devote to my life isnt smothered by the line that holds me tight to the other end of life and i keep pulling just for rowing saving that for laters sake. i cant think cannot conceive cant contain just what it means all i know is knowing nothing buttered toast is crispy muffin wheres my blueberry wheres my scone wouldnt you like to make me known i know you know what i dont know but still the seeds will soon be sown for patrons place in later owned markets farms and clouds weve grown how much for a wheat bread a loaf ill give you half an ounce if you make me a bounce

SEVENTEEN NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(SHAMEONYOUCALIFORNIA!!!!!!!} [AKA] {hummingbirds may lose the plot but looser are the words ive got...}

once upon a time i had a dream i had a vision then out came the scene and all i had were some revisions but the livin that is givin to the pigeon holed in kansas was the frigid boulder rigid like the colder mouths of tandems and the plots we lost were the plots we sold but the pot we got were the pots we growed and the knots we fought were the nots untold and the trouble we sought was the lot that we owned 
once upon a time i had a flight i took for fancy and the train that took it home wasnt fast and wasnt glancey but you glanced upon it sat down in it start to fidgit then your rigid like the boulder growing older from the verse that this took over start to stand still start to look out start to beat down eating free doubt doubt your debting date of dears and start to steal your truffled tears
that is when i saw the corridor looking like a poor and tired whore who had handed me a cold sword telling me to jump up on board telling me to start the engines telling me to set the sails yelling me to look into her failing me with warnings ahead
open up your silly eyes and see the ides of march 
compose your compost composite your host and hold on to the hope youve lost
change will come and change is spent on chicken dinners and paying rent but what youve got left burnt inside of your pocket is the memories tried against the tests the sands of time the beaches stretching through the finest places space is warped by time is warped by space is placed in place
not now though i dont want to i can make you you cant make me i can make he he will just see he will taste me and how it be
or is it really because the cousin in indiana doesnt do dopamine hannah lost her state moved to montana ate with joe who doesnt know so hey he listened but did he hear me pressed his ear up to the chimney scraped the soot and took the limits me my foot is jammed with jelly jill she ate the whey mc flurry didnt take the pressed ricotta ground the coffee for her soda buttoned up the formal sofa late to class but only sorta couldnt walk and so they rolled her now shes lost inside a blue dome painted green onsides of freedom planted free from freedom for them by them took them from them by them voted lost and ruled by fear from eight little monkeys not unclear but look into the props that weve won look behind the props that theyve sung soon youll loose your loosely formed son whos rights were just there but not won we can beat the sounds of our drums with the beating hearts of our fun take your sagging brain and your tongue tied together with your own thumbs now youve sunk into the kingdom animalia that is all young grow up soon and take our waste from us for thus forth we are pushed on by our drives and death it will come stroke it harder first so i cum clean it up and maybe your gun pointed up will fall up to the only powers that are ruled by pushing buttons just with our thumb make it brighter so the bombs jump out of our skin into submarines of fancy hats and caped rungs building ladders chains and planes of hopes and dreams and minor things that majorly will take our brains cause they have felt the ripping steel from stolen seal and harbor eel love logging out and blogging in them only then will we taste freedom only then will we taste freedom

THIRTEEN NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(back into the swing of things) [AKA] {Stipulation of train station patrons}

silly strings a silly thing to sing about aloud and out on a crowd of sound in your ears is a crowd in your head is a crowded bed is a crows feet is good meat is pretty sweet when the sugars neatly pressed into sheets of cane and candy lane and dandy warhols sandy wars all the campy for yalls open whore fall down like water something totters nothing teeters between the tweeters the speakers speaker deadens ether but reddens creepers of medicines squeezer and reefer madness is madly laughed at but bradley naftwat ate his math class when the math class ate his numbers that he crunched so he could digest them for lunch or possibly brunch either way the automaters faithful haters scarcely scared the sacred seepers seeping into outer grounds and sleeping with our outer crowns but crowning like the crows were bound to space and screamed without a sound but then we found the bugless mound that grew side town into the rounded pounded place that took up space and related back to faceless face featured fruitless ly with please of bargins sales discounted matresses flattened steel and distressed palaces placed pequiliarly perpendicular to alices open side door window that gripped on with dallas's idea of infernos that kept on to chastises placed in chalices and spaced by halibuts ate by nematodes fostered closing rose bushes noone knows open to noones nose now only neville knows knowing is nothing new nothing is novel to navel refinancers sailed by prized monsieurs ladled to wine devourers aging the line of followers plumitting nail hailed cabs and the sky is pale not for the lined boat sails today we sail and sales detract from our pail of pears pulling its weight through fear fearing its weight will tear feeling the freeing tears bleeding the freezing jeers healing the failed years over and paved its deers into the latent fields

TWO NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(Words Half FAIL) [AKA] {anything to say?}

la di dah la doh day ive got something good to say at least i say today that ive got the way and the way of the weighty is weighed in whey and curls will curdle if they get in the way of the path of the boulder thats crumbling away and mountains become boulders become rocks become sand becomes dust becomes just while we lust and the rust of the fuss is betrayed in the crust of the surface of our hearts that we wear on our skin because we beat ourselves so that our heart may beat our blood may beat our souls may be the oldest coldest hardest diamond that there is in the world inside our furled brow inside our soiled towel and ontop of many scowls given to us that we accepted with glee and rejected for she wasnt the only one who had them to vend and we sent them to tim who upon recieving the goods was good to me and mean to bees whos honey he had suckled for the ruffles and the shirts that had buttons of gold for untold purposes only because he wanted them and only because they wanted to shine so shine they did like a star in the sky or on the stage but no where in between and there never were stars but we were all born of them for we are their children and we shall be again as the cycles will tell but bicycles will fail and fall will yell and its words are leaves and they sting like snow and snow is cold
coldness is engulfing like a flame of these higher emotions of residing implosions of designing for trophies and were hiding ours mostly to keep them out of sight for the fright of the night when we see them and decide that we are the owners of greatness and we give away our humble but even so we crave power and we will desire it and on desiring it we have claimed it like columbus and the radiator 
cans and bottles but none are round and all sound the same on all saints day and all hallows eve we shall never learn to weave but only to tease being taught by a tease we show pleasing scents and gleaming rims and all of this is a feeble attempt....

TWENTY-NINE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(Words FAIL) [AKA] {what the tiger what the bell what the motion what the hell}

something something in the night something something starts to bite something something starts to fight but fight the bite and youll be quite amazed and dazed at tritans smite but like the dyke your tyke is bright and inside outside day is night but in the night you hide in cover and under night you dive neath covers and cover lovers with smothered brothers might be kin but never others happen stance and hate the cover this one sucks but that ones better this ones better but that one sucks this one fingers that one fucks this one tickles that one dug this one squirmed and that ones fluff but fluff n stuff is huffed and once you get enough you buff the rough 

i cant do this right now
i dont feel anything
im just writing words mechanicaly...

FOURTEEN OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{Nippley nipples are ripples of fun}

n i p p l e s yes lots of sex nipple sex with the rest of the pests who ate the chest out of my breast the beast is best when ridden fast and you cant sleep within the sacks of tax and pax and sado mass but take a class in getting past the rising tide of milky rats and feel the gas that leads the raspy voices past the asking bass who took my ass and tried to grasp the meat and has oh yes he has and he will grasp and let his feast take over masks and rip off sheets and open casts and it takes weeks and may be fast but over feats will we be cast into the pits of dieing lasts and can we see the trying tabs of those who still are piling crabs and s


nip tuck nipples suck just my luck ill never fuck ill never play and inside me there is a way and in that way there is a day a dawn a gay old time to play out on the lawn a stay inside a place thats hiding from the world outsides colliding insides hiding inside siding spider piling finger flicking flying high and flying solo once upon a midnight oboe least of all the written grotto wasnt open for the bozo or the booze oh where are yous and where are mes and just like me and we shall see and when we pee we plee for glee and justice isnt suffice foreclosed office stoop to rob us ate the walrus hate the call dust fate is all us wait for 


my nipples yes my nipples start to sipple then you suckle they are supple fight the knuckle they are fickle fight the sickle they will rupture oh the puncture oh the function oh consumption start the munchin grasp the luncheon ate the munchkin ate your punch then hate the bunch and break the bumps and lumps and humps of someones thumps are rapid jumps into the funk of once i bumped into a trunk I crashed a stump into a steak I ate the meat that was my plate my plate came once and I came late and twice I placed and faced the rake and faked the rape that ate the snake but ate the snake that raped the plate and played the game that players play and said the games that lovers say and helped myself into the day the dawn the lawn the nimble fawn the best the rest fell on my chest my lovely chest my lovely breast it fell abreast the left my chest and left my chest for the rest of my nest and nested neatly into the seemingly sinking feeling leaving me behind in my behind and started to grind and ate the rinds and rang the times and all the time it crossed my mind it crossed my kind of leaping mind that kept on right to the night and nicely neatly filled me completely filled me sweetly felt it briefly tasted meat and tasted me and tasted places sacred tasteless scented wasted placement graced it grazed it phased it taste it TASTE IT! Tasted flesh and how you craved it craved my taste and now you bake it mix it save it savor flavors of my craving crave her never need her never see her now you seem hurt now you gleam your favorite humor haven’t heeded nor succeeded now you’re conquered cant concede and cant contain your yearnings earnings cravings blazing human glazings manly bastings pull a few strings then your through things pull a few things then you lose things mostly new things now they’re true things place in me your sorry blue things place in me your lovely pink things pink brings blue brings new brings screw things grew things ate things played things hate things love things these things my things my thighs my lips my eyes my taste my place my date youre late your wait it makes me wait it makes me take me take you take us take lust take busts take pest take from my breasts into my hip and start to skip but take a dip oh take a nickel start to rip so we can quickly quibble little and touch my nipple suck my nipple fuck my nipple and just be simple just be cymbals ringing while your bringing all the pleasure to these strange things licking flicking taking take me take me take me wont you make me lose my grace and in its place wont you place that moistened place upon my face and then well place our hands upon our chasing out our facing in our placing with our pacing to our braced against our breathing heaving heavy wetly bet me besting best in you and testing resting then were through!

NINE SEPTEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch put it in a pouch and never take it out}

stick a needle in my eye watch me cuz ill never cry but stick a pen into my heart because the start will jump its card the credit limit went far over the bridge we built was never sober the clouds we rained were soaking dover and the skin we grafted rotted clovers but lucky us our luck was out and we couldnt stand to loose without a piece of the puzzle action or pie wake up in the morning were sure wed die inside and out were sure wed fly but flying required defying gravity with lieing to the earth and prying through the bursting feeling of the breathing and the yearnings of the living the the heavings of the dieing and the cleanings of the crying for the words that were spoke were spoke unjust and the burns that were cut were filled with lust and the purge that we birthed was made of rust and the hurt that we felt wasnt quite the best and least that we wanted was someone who haunted our days and our nights and who seared our sights and the flights of the ripes of the apples to the pie were the flights of termites who ate metal and died and we lived inside of the peaches and bided our time with the line of the concusive lines and the sign of the times was the sign that confined and confided into the pen though the pin wasnt lent to you but my pencil was so full of jesus's soul so i couldnt but use it to free all my evils and the sins of the people were the fins of the eagle as it dove through the snow to the mountains deep center and the heat that awaited it was naught but a rock and yet still it was hot and the liquid did stop its decent and the tent that it errected was disected by the beings that claimed an intelligence that was greater still then the people of the earth that lived and breathed and worked the soil and the soil wept with each stroke of the axe and the axe wept with each stroke of the tax and the taxing that was faxing was fascinating and the desacrating of the monumenting was relating to the condensating and the permeation of the standing station of the trains that delayed all their people motions and the rotions of rotations and the sotions of sutation and the lotations of elating were eloping not detaining and connections were made and protections were braved and the songs that they sang were unheard by the prayed and they prayed anyways and anyhow and anywhere that they were heard and they were heard wherever they said they were heard but who heard them and who sold them after they were forced into herds and the sheperds were not kind to them for they scolded them with hate and they scalded them with water and they burnt their eyes with willow rods and they spilt their lies with pillow sobs and they opend eyes with out a sob for the burns did make their lids disolve and without lids they continued to see into the dark that they could bleed and bleed they did while eating figs for newton knows that few things own that which is grown inside of your own and even your own can create what you loan to the others for rowing to the center of the lake and in the lake they start to take where you cant shake their tail or their trail only their hands and fall into their plans and the plans to protect you are now to elect you and when they elect you they slaughter your face and your heart and your chin and than they begin to start the damage that is real and tandems that are also an ice cream cone and an iced scream so we hear your cold chilly voice scream out without a doubt that its out of breath and your lungs we know what they sound like when they flap against each other because there is no more air in them and all that is left is for the skin to rub against each other like a crickets wings and listen to them sing and listen to them sing....

TWENTY-SEVEN AUGUST TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{whip whop flip flop drip drop skip hop!}

sit atop a little cot and think about the day 
but even though you start to grow 
you still must cut the hay

and when its cut 
its just your luck
you have run out of hay

but hey
its hay
and hay
is hay
and hey
its hay
today

so start to grow another field with something that isnt hay
like hats or cats or ceiling wax 
or some will run away

different syntax different style differnt lengths to run the mile but different times in milestones thymes for heart of chokes is a heart of rhymes.
and a heart of dimes is hard at times when hardly hearts have hardened rhinds and rhindstones shine when rising signs reflect the light off dying mines where gemstones grow and start to harvest and havent heard of open forest and trees are chopped and turned to logs and hogs are dropped on top of logs and cooked so slow so tender juicy and served atop a plate of blue steel and steel forks  will pierce their meat and silver pork is what theyll eat and pigs grow fat on others waste and we grow fat on pigs on plate but the pigs wear hats from others waists and waiting lats is where we phase.

phase in phase out phase atop of pigs snout

snout snout snout it all out

start to shout
drown it out
play it out
skin the cat
eat the fat
and slay the rat
play the bat
but hold the mat
for falling hard
is not what that
is all about
so start to shout
and shoot it out
but never pout

a collection of poems by a collective of knowns a deceptive of moans by the tepid of gnomes the skeptical ohms will never come home and the prodigal roams are the plains that we own and owning is silly especially if billy is the type of your goat and you start to gloat and inside of the goat you will find its throat and the throat is the throttle for the sharks in the puddle and the puddle is probably portable not indeed likely to find a deed to upset minorities fighting the glory fiends of heaven sent pouring cleats cleaner than seaters of readers set on the deeds but deeds are done and done are forks inside of porks which we already ate so clean your plate and pretend your fate is decided by great er powers than you 
and move onto the stew!

TWENTY-SEVEN AUGUST TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT