Wednesday, September 15, 2010

GLUG DEFUSION 1





Cars wept all day long
Wreckers were lost
I killed the prophet of stars
Told me the summer brook

-Salmonellosis,hypersomniac
-Reptiles
-Sweating gramophones
-Turps

GLUG DEFUSION 2


LOST AMIDST THE BASEMENT


Who knows about the rheumatic basements
I've lost the car like a television
Forlorn
Fanatically free
Faces have been confined in a bott
Sundown fallacy
Bottles and shattered rains

Friday, September 3, 2010

Anaesthesia Litter


How the horns for a worm
Gurgle tonic beyond the table
For ash ..
Latex nerves I burn..burn
So immense wombs buffoons all balloons
Loss of ice..stomached under my theatre balls
Rust I am
Reeds I blow..kill the clothes
Anodes she passes through the ugly autumn..
Ruffles papers..worming of secretion to dial a railroad nimbus..in disguise
Loss of feet I paddle paddle down underneath
Kill her blood
Kill her frills
She’s on bones of submarine hues

Sorcerer Bulbs


So I horn the ribbons
Towards the nail-dead alley..cluster of headfield hash
Creepers flow through the demerol screes
Fierce to step weird and cat and bleeding reptile
I’m on mirror..she’s for a box
Laddered on hemispheric snakes
I shuffle the prolific cards
Acidic they growl for the fire-bugs all around
Fox fox ache my teeth my robe
I lie everyday..
Bonnet flies beyond the attic
Fiddlers.. broken off
Melting like a postman
Rambling for the ribbons all autumn rust..

Monday, April 26, 2010

Rippled Drragss





Ravens of falling helium
I’m rust ..
I’m shuffling cards
Of black numbers
Black skins of a television ghost
Inflicted with grease like eyes
Listen ..the suburban winds come
Stained all glass of all damn obsessions
Towards the tablet monotone
All hearts,chains, stifling hairs..
Snarls of goats all around
Funeral stockings..we burn burn the helium
Get me up and paint my pocket
Kill the claws
Fetch the motorhead
Postulate all regulations to die
..don’t have a snake
No no balls to nightless rubber straws
Hashish and a railroad gypsy day
I’m crab dragging myself towards the television hues
Darkness turns into relaxing grease..grease and
Methane shoes..pentatonic ulcer..
I’m crab dragging myself behind the truck
With all deadheaded prurience
Plunged into yellow lust
Lagger & lust








Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Kill The Pilot

On my bones
Heaps of conjuring stomach
Leathers dead for dead of grains of dissection
All daggers melt down into ashes and blues of calender hue
My telephone chords
Freed beyond for
Flakes of doors in the sky
Crawling entwined
sharp holes,
bones,
diazepam days
I forgot to wish ..
ceramic paranoy balls,
bricks
weary machineries … inhalers ,acidic,
vomitus on fire fierce
penhole blades ,beamish doldrums..
carbon
puffballs
of resurrection
of mirror
of worms inherent
smelling like a dead shoe..

’ve lost nails after all…
convoy
school
.
.
fools
of
rust
.
.
banished
of
spoons
.
.
pan
.
.
immense
sausage
pan
.
.
think
no
ladder
doddles
down
.
.
ladder
empty
ladder
.
.
let
me
give
you
up
.
.
his
priest
is
widower
.
.
his
lust
is
sack
.
.
his
nails
are
full
of
sands
.
.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010


I stand for a frozen vestibule…tamed calenders fluttering all around my existence..no
hospital..to commence a remarkable on turn opera..malignant nimbus in disguise..
another eclipse..anihilated crows..blood..acid..prison car..beep..beeep.beeeep…
beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep



Shoes nonsense..stepping ahead for a rapid tolerance..cabin of radio-active propulsion..
they come with pulps..wierd sailors they are..alienated god of dust & feathers
progenitor worm worm comes for the venom tube
spinal all spinal spades..snake and red hypnotic robes..sulphur..sodium..
beads..and black and skin and acid ..mor..morph..morpheus

So my skin ,bones & love…
methane full of rust
hair full of pepper
lapse of all olfaction
I’m foam nothing for fomes made of salt
beyond the weeds
and a suburb means a double decker for no reason..
humming humid notes on hemisphere brown brown floe…..

Friday, February 19, 2010

Diurnal


Angels of vein combat with owls
Tobacco prone skin
Full of brass and forlorn silver
On the sandfield
Nose fleeted
Penetrates
For prolonged scrolls of winter
Sandfeet whistle like celluloid
Black mud of eyeholes or holes in the eyes
Deaf my room
Mediaeval wings and ceramic
Zinc ash, clowns of wicked penis
Dialing the days for a commodore
A worm of camphor.. saliva screen..

Telecom


On my bones
Heaps of conjuring stomach
Leathers dead for dead of grains of dissection
All daggers melt down into ashes and blues of calender hue
My telephone chords
Freed beyond for
Flakes of doors in the sky

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Radio Station




Getting loaded by the wheels
Fooh! Damn tails…oaf…doltish
No historian gives me a bark of wisdom
Black-eyed like engraving snakes on the majestic wall
Bubbled celluloid at least…..wrapped up with ferrous
Skin is zero for zero is stone…
Vestibules of tamed calendars…
Like a pre-historic bugle blows upon the afternoon
For the feathers and buffoons
Cryptic groaning all around my hollow shirt
Tobacco-fly inside the radio room
Winds of auction never leave this city of maroon highways…

Monday, January 25, 2010

Creak Chronicle




Nails obscure
Posters of tongue althrough
Black of bubbles

For pain for a methane devoid of shades and
Sound frivolous
Skindrop crystals can turn into spinal
Salt

Let's acquire stray moths on our shirt
Neons of sweat aloud
Anatomy totems all around my existence
Burning like hell....

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Wrapped Up With Immense Midnight Repulsion



I gurgle with infringed colours,
Vowels of a shadowed pair of shoes..
My specs are getting old,my skin is zero for zero is mirror
Broken like a dangling staircase …
Gods of wicked penis moving in a chain
I keep on riding,riding for the jack,johon,brownboard jazz
I feel my nails are gone,teeth as well..
So as my skin,bones,hairs…
Father,shout I shout and zero numberless
To see from a crackling locus
I feel death is nothing for a man
Who can step ahead
Towards the bathroom for swimming ashes abundant....




Another vibrato..soundness I wish

Skinshot


There’s all skins are fluttering

I’ve made a number-plate towards the alluring ashes

My thick bones … no calendars to call her name …
Bubbles of ceramic sounds

Her constellations on her arms,
Moles and membranes on my shirt

As I’ve left the anatomy wool
And papers flying flying through the dark

All dodos are with me on a boat

Sunday dreams and a swirling hue
And the walking doors of a
Foul harpsichord

I’m a terrific ride with vanishing flakes and
Mosses…..