5+5

·         announcement 1: thinking of the bus. denouncement and resurrection. let me know when you cross Rubicon. Let me know when i cross Styx. Haven’t seen them. Haven’t seen many. Have crossed the same twice. That’s about it.

·         storyboard, stoicism, propulsion, dick: man goes out for pearl. woman goes out for rain. children follow the trails of the slaughter and the slaughterer. it’s all fucked.

·         hunter-gatherer: it’s all between the red and the blue. it’s all between the throbs and the notes. flames hit edges, plastic-panorama; fly drowns in honey and juice. let us observe in silence.  

·         blunt medicine: the body is all that matters. happiness is a flower laughing in sunlight. sadness is a colour weeping in rain.

·         bullshit ballerina: solitude, painsong – shampoo-sachets lying limp on laundry-heap. we are living. we mourn for the dead.

·         Wagner and ping-pong: who? what?

caves, i gather.

need and resurrection

Pistol-Papa:

Verdi & necrophilia.

...

·         Pencil-piranhas and Dandelion-Gardens: Remedies again. A celebration. Bats fly all night and moon sings and stars ejaculate little dots of festivity. Hentai peeks over asinine skyscrapers. Winners sell. Losers buy.

·         Bodhidharma: Submarines in deranged loom. Annexation of candy-wrapper cacophony. Now what the fuck is that?

·         Pant, O mime: All the lonely things of the world taken together can’t match up to all the lonely clocks of the world taken together. Guns blaze, trams roll, world dangles on off-key luminosity. is this not what i wanted?

·         Perfumed prognosis: sunset yields smooth delight. Mirrored mayhem from the shores: normative, primal, talismanic. Manicured moon on make-believe rivers. Other gurus dream from caves. Other lions roar from cages. This shouldn’t have happened. Phantoms play sharp, soft tunes. Skin grows on flesh.

·         Tympanic Membrane: Neon-wave through sound and through fury. Neon-wave amalgamation – thoughts, memories, binary arrangements.

Whores have stopped kissing since the advent of AIDS.

Pack me a lazy harbour.

Pack me a pulp-beat.

Birds and Titans reach out for love

Hymns for the velvet puppets,

Sparrows of mercy to hunt down prophets  

Diseased rainbows to touch parched lips

Night eats me

I eat night.

...