Monday, March 18, 2013

PushButton BrainLove Since 03-01-1889

Rabid city going down
Dogged summer
Behemoth let loose on tyranny of hours
Angels and angles sit on brain
Sesame and mustard decoy
Skies rot,
graveyards rot
shit spills over
chrysanthemum weaves anthem that binds
I see middle aged middle classed middle fucked middle boobed woman
bending over streetside grocery
and farting at the guts of the demons that rave through blindness
pink fleshed schoolgirls flow by
policeman wipes sweat from moustache
they’ve sold it all long ago
we lynch ourselves with craft and draft
we can’t bear to stand naked
we can’t cry
we can’t scream
we can’t puke
shark dives deeper
roads sink
silk and crucifix fights meat across severe, zonked realms
I lay down my gauntlet
And I weep.

The ancient book of Saturday

A turning of the page

furtive glances, signals

perceptions in between inanimate sprinkles, dusts.
Pink arrow from third eye.
Reaches the hollow
Mahogany icon reaches out
For the exit button

And when I see the doors locked with big rusty locks
And half-dead bulb glooming it up
all along the dead corridor.
I just wish humans would evolve into music.

Little dumb dots that blink
Velvet winks


Old men picking at old wounds
Old women picking nose
Faces in sunlight faces in rain I fucked your mom you fucked my god they fucked our freedom we fucked their ancestry
Then preacher says

An accrual of miracles
Fish-winged dreams
Decimation through melancholia, morbidity
All are scared, shitless, of poverty, inconvenience, isolation et cetera
Little grey things scamper out
Of ruins in moonlight and share food of love
They haven’t got much history to shape

The minstrel who gunned the opera down
Used to live downtown
Then the ones who sell lies as dreams reached his house and fucked his dog and fucked him too
Like most sad stories, even this one is true.
Then he sold masks to mannequins
And little blue pills to austerity
And love to god
Now watch out, or else he’ll get you too
Like most shitty stuff, even this one is true.    

As if I haven’t, fucker.

There’s this little blue room
That stands against ceaseless gloom
And gives me my crown
And then on sweat-crazed nights
Our lady of light – she dons her tights
And in fond folds she comes down

In that cunt of love, my father, let my heart awake
Et cetera et cetera
Thank You.

Things grow dark
Moon rises over city moon rises over sea child sits on moon she’s angel now she saves me from fetid reckoning she saves me from grim envelope she’s chained to still patterns monstrosity of isolation colours of mind in coolblue daze haze I will endure the demons I will be strong and free her and I’m lying between the wheels I see ox looking downcliff into the heart of guts into guts of heart there’s blood and shit and stuff that shine in little haughty specks it’s this damnation it’s along this dreamkissed edge we glide we glide down the snakey smoothness and then voices over water that break into soft whispers and stuff that kick in flux spirals and geometry I walk 24 years of meat and books of antique grey wisdom and tieless knots and miles that stretch and miles that don’t to lie down under canvas of silence that flows by that cuts through bones and paperboats floating and its raining in the hills and it’ll rain in the city one day a great rain that’ll wipe dark traces off and fires will rage afresh and thing’s that need to brak out and have their say will break out and have their say as big bells toll in corner of soul and flowers link up to crime in binaries and servitude and all walls to be smashed through and cold deathless archers that shoot vectors will vanish and pristine come bliss come and father is a tree and mother is a train and sadness is the sweetest child that ever was trapped in the fortress of moon as demons of decay guard the walls and sharks that eat all swim around and I’m a demon too and I too am a shark but I know where I stand and I stand strong and brutally ready to kill them all to kill kill haters of the heart and free all birds and hide all aces and little flute plays soft little note to melt music that had frozen and pretty things that make eyes wet deserve freedom and just that.
Million bombs explode in hollow of core.      
Tender snakes
Sturdy ladders
Moon drowns in honey lark drowns in honey knife cuts loose to beat all and win fast like every other asshole wants too and crazed rush through pathways in loop mockingbird mockingbird mock at conditioned specters of eventuality & equilibrium and bluebells of love & death bloom in garden of answers. Cannons of love & death boom at tower of questions. Leopard leaps at warm core. 

Things grow dark
in heart of hearts.

One fine midnight strong right and free
Were about to flop down on my rooftop and on rooftops of the fucked city
I had gone to take a piss & I was thinkng of Mama Meat’s titties. 
Camel, take me
Where moon pukes love and meat puke’s meat
And moon eats love and meat eats meat
And it’s moon of love and meat of meat
Sticking by, trying to be one
It’s like sweet tough fucking
And it’s fighting for the crosses
We inherit
Like all fucktards
Who make gods out of other fucktards
and freeze up resurrection, music, screaming children of hazy, purple forests 
and choose to stay that way –
smooth, cold & frozen.  
Sad shapes bind shit
Shit stays shit

Till it got so bad that I puked moon at meat and meat at moon and moon at moon and meat at meat till it was all puked meat and moon.

And then on that fine midnight strong right and free flopped down on my rooftop and on other rooftops of the fucked city and I could hear their asses thud against so many hard, harsh surfaces that mountain turned into thunder and struck down the city.  

Nolo contendere.


It can come from anywhere.

But honestly, all were over for you the day they made you club grief with other emotions and you refused to get angry for this.

It's all about this story of sharks and grenades

Rounded off augmentation. In dreams we swim ashore.

I could not see the storm coming,
I'll see a flood coming and gods of destruction and powder and  fire
Thus, we feel  the swine’s ass
the knot at stopping bulls

I'm in.
I was teamed with gray moon of easy fright and other kicks and the only shit that’s worse than that is the rhetoric of stimulus and rising
I see you glide through smooth soft mother to win your right of dust as you sell your fury to this big fucked circus to live.
I see sweet sisters raped by raging brothers in naked hours of heat and beat
I can’t see the clocktower in mist
I can’t hear the trains chugging through the sea.
The trains are sadness
The sea is sadness  

I love my past
I have none
I love my present
I have none
I love my future
Demons eat flowers when sad
Clowns count stars when sad
The clowns are demons now and the demons, too, are clowns and stars were always flowers and flowers were always stars shimmering over the trains and the sea and they are one and they are sad now and sadness is sad now and even the wolves of heart are sad.   
Death-eyed whores play chess better than they used to
that’s the closest we’re allowed to love.

assfucked by ghosts
big bear squeezes fond heart like thick cherries of meatlove
Beastly perfection – child of relentless butchery stares
at the guts of sun
and smiles.

we must win
or else the bastards will.

Our gods are hungry for claps
Our gods fear isolation & non-acceptance
Our gods are well advertised
This is certainly the lousiest shit I’ve ever thrown up but our gods
are lousier than this.

Snake lies by mound
Snake moves through soft, slow centuries
And the tender, unbearable glow
Pressed down and locked deep within

Unlocking of the chamber-doors, prisons, treasure-chest
Grand big mystery
The big fat idea is to endure through
That’s the only fun that there is
And tonight, I see traces of dark crime
coiling up through fierce shadows of the vines that creep up chapel windows and stretch out for the altar.

The need for totems dates back to the beginning of recorded human civilization. 

And tonight, I judge you 
to death, decay and defeat.

is easily more bearable
than this
waiting for what is waiting on walls.

Energy given away
Nowadays the specifications
The big couch

  • Man


  • Mannequin.

Remove variants for us, infected sky alarmed
perfect chaos
Documentation of spittle

Drowned fairy
Songs seek

Building Community

Bun-Photochemistry tells us of heat and yolk

Treasury Town enlightenment.

Spoil extended means

Contributed to the destruction equity

Lacuna: Vice

Lastly, the fields:
sense that the energy is lost
down the binds.

However, what we do not accept include
two of the four reach-old fairytales,
sorcerer citations,

I have read to reflect
On how we radiate out the convergent cures from our eyes and surly quanta.

Lamina and Rank:
Books of the search and masks,
Our wasted Epic
preserve memories with deep trench evaporation and civil insects  bite my testicles
 probe beam attenuation column ruin and projection and projections.

comment will be deleted

The terrible one

Let us all come to an end
You can
All things Last
In this Bay.

blending of methods:
misery –
Taken down
eating out the masks
and pissing at the buyers and the sellers.

We will delete forms,
non-liability and fraud
lose sense, 
tales of tribe.



is helpless and good much yarn pleasure
Mayan desert.

Skip the

The water
record, I have not been
Summary filming totem.

from our eyes

Visitors since, master
Made a documentary on crash and hurtling through resonance.

all the way from side to side
The numeral
The ox

Wood and desks ago

chaplain eyes chromosomes those within tissues themselves are helpless at this time we are drowning in kittenshit mute bananas

ditch cut through fog

Betrayal –
Once defeated, we forget our old magic of dreams and fables.
I, too, had a mirror.

sundown structure – vague reckoning of some fascinated transfer – scripts and walls.

But anyhow
back to the ages of combustion

We can go all over the grisly days
we can press buttons but there’s isn’t much more that we can do.

Weary edges of gloom comes across the secrets 
Pin-head and chest
alone in personal bed,
sad birds return to sad nests to sit on sad eggs

-          “Run back before the three grand eras pass by.”

Some others are still
trying to
unearth the head of tired shadows

stick It up.
withdraw lone self
Latent & Neutered Bloody War Meat
Positive Victory
Pain and submission.
 sick Moon
parades through this, 

The blue water of flooding dreams
If children learnt
of Sadness and Beauty

The children

Press, Join
the lack of easy wisdom and fun through mayhem,
sheer twisting of mounds.  

I fail to see the point
Now come, smell my ass.

honey for brengun
toadstool for puppets

Thinking of magenta mythmaking.
You can either speak or fart
Whores of history chase mad houds down the alleys of our dreamy, grim institutions.
Pigs from hell fight for dreary days ratcorpse nights.
Decomposition and oxygen for our sharp light-craze lay.      
Fun and dystopia.
Gutted, dried and grilled
Lizard loses tail.

Stunned to ultimate perfection.
Share and Report abuse
to likely illative discourse,

Honest piling up of operations

Head and Base
For future Anno domini; eclipsed sinew-cyclic –
symptoms of the symphony

Here comes our master of mass
to duel with the
hard, blinding visions of incantation, incarnation, resurrection, sacrifice.

1 comment:

Zeebs said...

I'm not going to write you a love song