Category: Prattlings

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grabbers takers, you’ll have to get to my producer; grabbers takers, why you grabbing? taking energy, coming back for me // are you forcing my hand?// i can tell you this, i can tell you that, i wont// it’s not that i’m hiding, it’s not my name// ooooh, crazy ramblings lol what year is this?// no one has to say anything, this is one book and it’s free// i love all birds// i like knives and separately blood, i just happened to think of them in the same mindbreath (thats less than a nanosecond)// theo comes to mind, also separate from blood and also knives// yever heard of book clubs or writing groups? what if there are slicing groups? anyway, thinking about a former partner-still-friend; it soothes me. i didn’t understand most songs with words until about 3 years ago// En los angeles, principalmente los tipos vampiricos quien conozco son hombres, no damas. chistoso y/o extraño, no?

*sing-songy* the squeaky wheel wins.

Undersea clenchventures – anal ago us play – its better this way – the ol in&out – mal-functionary & wary. keep the cock in wait for grading, and time between movements proper spacing

Satan, bleating the ‘good news’, says, “this is riveting.” thinks, “I anal to please!” (laugh track)

Champion is a verb. turning up the ivory sweetness brought down in a leathery package, for time-release surprise – thankfully, our Sol is a champion of the truth.

not all who do not fly were meant to stay ground-bound forever. many creatures learn to leap; some of those same creatures are thrown to their doom off the sides of sheer cliffs by eagles.

Fly ye, dust, today.

Heading to the boiling brother of notes; via napkins, on hands, on insides of thighs, in the margins of newspapers at a cool 404 degrees. add wounds, market smartly to the most impressionable/damageable

I came to the town of becoming toast too tight.

swelling

The truth of the matter is having been in this mode : I have fashioned myself into the weapon most lethal against me, I.

A rough ruddy rose; past the eagle’s training eyes, upon it swoops.

the least intended
saint wrath borne, saint otherwise,
sitting askance this heaving, swelling silent screamer,
I,

the sun sliding off my irises.

It went like this. some how one, I, made a delay…. when coming to sexually associate, I,
one who dis-associates.

this is a comfort in a nursery for knives;
security guards line the playground.

the churches are unusually far from here.

the imperative of the friends of Death,
is to understand the shapeless tongue.

~ ~ ~

Post-Dawn-of-Rocks

Immediately i see your face in the sky. i sit far beyond its colours; there is no raining conception of what it is like to breathe with You.

i am a diverging river. and in smiling state of understanding, know the confluence cannot be forgotten.
it is not the way of rivers.

nor is a forgetting like the rage of ocean waves.