Wednesday, March 31, 2004

Will Wants Us

We're back!

But will it want us?

We're ugly, we eat and belch.

We overlook passion, it's limits.

We scribble on our pads.

We want massive energies.

But will it want us?

We'll wager that anything times ground zero

Equals zero.

We'll wager that sex is a poor substitute

For swimming.

We'll fall but only when we're knocked down.

It's cold in here.

Will someone turn off the fucking cold?!

We turn our backs for five seconds and

Oswald the Lucky Rabbit walks in and

Cures everything.

We're home!

But Will doesn't want us.

Will wants free shipping and

Electric sound bytes not

The hum of bodies.

Everything we know we know because

Our dogs bodies know that

We're home.
into her spouses

She eavesdrops on the peas.

It's a miracle (semi)! Cashews, fiberboards,

aspirin - despite the algae, my nipples explode

with diffeomorphic angst blown on manifest destiny.

I worry that dolphins will rule the country and

atheism will rule the airport's aqua crock pot .

Tuesday, March 30, 2004


I'm an oldster now. I'm hung over the durkin scum

like a miasma fastened on a skewer.

My one diversion is Christians who come to my door.

I use a teleprompter and an eye dropper

and I affirm that I am basically Christian,

but that, given the chance, I would dynamite

every canoe from here to the Rockies.

Thursday, March 25, 2004

Oppress Tract Handy

Resolving treasures is as quick as enjoying modestly vanished jokes,

prophetess humor. Contract established churches, throw the consistency

and your grandchild into the bathwater. Accomplish understanding, warn of the

trivial surgeon flocking to break everything reflected anywhere.

Advise and be weird. Stifle your sensitivity, conquer and declare

the dressings. Accept similarity. Dessert please.
Buy Vãlium now

tomorrow may be besotted with Galveston brinkmanship

and dairymen who beat their eyebrows like some Ming

Dynasty tolchocker. What is it with all these rickets?!

There's a tournament limelight taking a backplate

to the brass death chuckle written by Aspen thugs

in the bidiagonal dawn. Observe, portray but don't

reserpine, denture face. I'm all dressy but my

methodology is nitpicking at the edge of the

highway. If you don't buy valium now, I'll go all

esoteric on you and bust a bee in your bonnet.
I merely allow myself

the cloyshish confirmatory perturbance

that clubs injurious every man abhorred by

guilt. The czar falls on gases from home schooling

discipline. I'm pro-crustacean but anti-anatomy.

My splash presumes water, my crevice

presumes Dionysian imperatives blacksmith

to any rudimentary red shank. The incision

is made, the falconry is massive. I merely

allow myself the backscatter bartering

alliterate to paltry, syncopated psalms.

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

I always knew id be able to order online one day

Pathogens in the roundhouse enclose bulimian

beginnings too quick to digress. Hand me a daybed

bronco boy, I'm Allen Ginsberg in Hamburg

with the Beatles. I'm wearing a nightshirt and panicked

that I will be assailed on by buckskin-clad luggage.

This kind of right-thinking, infantile banter is exactly

the choke-flogging I'd expect from an animal lad such

as Karl Bartos. Mightn't what you'd larvae be more

admiralty described as a doorbell? Melon salespersons

surface every solar eclipse wearing a talisman and an

Anita Bryant Bass-O-Matic. They augment their manic

eye of the beholders by ringing decibels over the ad hoc

adieu. Sinus medicine blest by The Rifleman. Chilean jigsaw

puzzles left to the chance advisory of arsenic and

old chrome dome chug-a-lugs. Dirty Harry Callahan kabob

is the touchstone of this nutritious, hastily-written throat omen.

It's tasteful but argillaceous. It's a truism, but handymen the

world over psychoanalyze it like Atlas falling off the buzz

(buxom) wagon. Let's whitetail it outta here.

Meanwhile a skyrocket bypasses the forest

managing to find itself navigating and pummeling

and diving and dumbing all at the same time.

We're equipped with urban drapes and

beneficial chromic angels and still can't sense

a demon when one perjures itself on the doorknob.
Your winning ebay auction

is a Dutton Warbler Radiated Dramaturgy!

Conjointed with this is a free degumming emigrant

from Hawai'ian Angora Sweatshops.

This being slanderous to Patrick Ewing and

ruby red slippers everywhere, we're also

throwing in a free tinkle of reproducible perjury!

Yes, Albuquerque may lay down the pinkie ring

in a lewd manner but here we wack the doldrums

and leave them bleeding in a gutter in Guatemala.

So hurry, your definition of hurty may be "routed

soap that enigmatically runs to the cinema

in sandals" but ours is "covet thy neighbor's

cushy man couple, oh my!"

Monday, March 22, 2004

Weary bodybuilding

and congratulatory catastrophic cornflower aside,

the opacity with which the helicopter corps

has been suckling on the periphery

is the subsidy song to my oceanic acetate conformity.

The brewery is a bipolar Bissell for dishwater mucous

and Hamlet hesitants. The skirmishes drop curd hard

on the tremulous mimeographed heterogeneity.

Esoteric ice rinks and amphibious amperage

gun down caretakers tardy in their firepower.

The demography speaks from its modern jowls

unidimensional in its regional scallop and

egret cotman blanching.

The Faustian earthenware is osteoporosis to the

stockpile of cabdrivers on the borderline between

chawing serpents and catsup.

Complain and all that happens is miscommunication

Chew and the ducks will have you trafficked

off to the cereal dungeon where trash compactors

and a-forest cobalt carpetbaggers circumscribe

the ongoing exaltation known as Dirt McGirt.
Quit your day job,

insolent observatory dope.

Flattery is the poison magnolia

that Daniel Ortega was mimicking,

haggling for catnip when an apricot

carnage pie was the intoxicant of

the OPEC Reagan administration.

Deride if you must but don't roam drown,

carefree in the cacophony abroad.

Dole is Proust next to some of these

I've been sad

My dipole dock is loose and every year

the sepulchral gluing of the babble wham

amalgamates the alimony I mach pay.

Catalina is an island with a chronic

rectory checkerboard that selecting "apothecary"

doesn't solve, cute appeasement to Howard

Stern's Holiday In Cambodia though it is.

Where are the memorable moustaches

and where are the wreaths that fog my

spectacles? In Bakersfield the flog

is the blanking proponent of blank

blank slouch blank safe blanket shorn.
Almighty Boa Aesthete

Raid the claustrophobic maggoty candelabra,

El Cadaverous wants a quart of stepchild footpad.

Later, the bourbon can flow among the rummage.

Suspend the garden impeller rerouting consciousness

into a British pinafore before Churchill

takes a cosmic blast from the indigent dog meat

that is this dazzling urbanite's beach cathedral.

Clowns pulsate, the bass is indiscernible

from the carnage, the finch approaches

Vancouver, its appendices tinfoiled in

a delightful upturn to the poem. The lavish curves

of the naked floodlight the casual creditor.

Dendrites torch nirvana, their appetites

presume blood is found where Beethoven

once slept. This prologue has become wearisome,

incorporating as it does the delinquent, the

lunatic, the orderly duckling, the spacecraft thyroglobulin

and the baggage that is the higher amoebae.

Friday, March 19, 2004

Lasts for 36 hours

if you're tying briny rumble tea rags.

Or if you're a coyote tough amateur

indescribable from other

coyote tough amateurs controlling

grind patterns your mum covets.

It's heartfelt native camelback trench foot

that keeps US astraddle Afghanistan.

And it's elaborate Dennis Miller fuzz

that makes sultry mutagens seem like

locksmithing banshees wailing over

a bolster pillow that some sculptor

flexed her apostrophes over.

Thursday, March 18, 2004

At this inappropriate

harpy lineage my posable shoemaker

teletypes me to cancel his clamshell congener.

Seems the bureaucracy is a danger to pegging,

melanoman despair. But bark transatlantic and

all the creamery collies in the fields will

bestow on you the combined gop of an astigmatic

scuba diver dimming the countrified air.

my ankle is dented!

It's like a bindery angus stableman bungle.

It's chargeable like schoolwork.

It's decaffeinated like sandblasting flanges.

It's follicle shackled like volunteering to be a giraffe doorman.

It's transfixed like a Sisyphus magma subsidiary.

It surfs by candlelight like a jock fry crankshaft.

and it's decorously almighty like a complacent gubernatorial phenomenon.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

Written in your

ladylike tunnel.

Always brave & cadent

the brainchildren plunked

down with an aspirating coastal lurch.

Move just a cudgel, the precedent

is marred by matrix balk lingo

and coils so disheveled it would appall a turnpike

or mayoral candidate.

The grief of the chuckwalla is the battleground

for your nose hairs.

Grind them up on a griddle,

take the first rickshaw to the punctual,

downtown churchgoer blat reflector council.

Why? Coexistence with clappers in a

exorhythmic reputation that would make your coat cry.
district dihedral antennae beer rivet

Gert it now!
Full coverage

of my invincible cheekbone,

my doorknob, my boathouse

and my earsplitting haircut.

All there in the decaying shadows

of Mel Gibson's crucifix chassis.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

I had to shape

the psychophysic trance I was created in the image of.

It's a testimonial to the debonair gemstone I've become.

"Ahoy Zippy!" to paraphrase an airport treadmill mountaineer.

"Razzle! Undulate! The erroneous fireplace gives closure

to the German posterior, i.e. the marriage buffet."

The winery continues to respond to the bullets flying

my way. The dexterity is sexist and magnanimous

and let's get promiscuous, confidential terrier and

pelican mausoleum prophesy teacher!
Newlyweds are then

made out of bread and chowed down on

using an extension cord and a tall optometrist.

This kind of vagabondism approaches O'Hare

like a 747 spinning in the hereunder.

Worlds may mark their territory with a flashlight

but this planet is too small for a meat cartographer

complicit in the big gnu edict that causes idols to cluck

like tear-away feathers.

Monday, March 15, 2004

Beach Weekend

The carpenter was ineffective today.

My pants merged with the mayoral epidemic.

My carburetor's the buckaroo birch I can't strop.

And my DNA has become an excuse for liver cancer.

Friday, March 12, 2004

It's a payday gimmick algaecide

Revenge is the directorate, riven as it is

with amoral Albanian quotation marks.

Few of us age, most of us gradate into shadows

of our former kickboxing selves.

The sham is to kick back and savor your mustache

alone or in this billion dollar sheep factory

we call existence.

Look, I'm all for levity and the erosion of

family values, I used to man the pumps

at the municipal Dickens factory. I

attended the best finishing schools

and still my lay-up clanks off the rim.

I look out my door and the sky is juniper

with a money cash-out that only a libertine

could confiscate. The Dixieland band is

playing on my dad's old Girard, or Nat

King Cole and still I feel quarrelsome, muttering

about rabies, Euripides and the fucking

clutch on my '70 Toyota.

This is all well and clumsy, equipping insight

with a set of muttonchops and setting it out

into the orgiastic cantaloupe hoard. My

tortoise has bats in his belfry and kale on his

mouth. The upshot is that we deserve what

we get. And if you believe that I have some

Miss Cleo dust monogamy I'd like to give

to you, free of charge.

Thursday, March 11, 2004

Are you free?

Then chip in your armhole, blowfin!

Picturesque Utopia articulates what is in decrypt:

neophyte cannisters and all sorts of bugaboos.

Salvage the admixture and revive the jingle that says:

absentee Bolshevic bathtubs are about as

prosodic as a prestidigitated emcee astrophysicist.

And speaking of altruism, what extraneous rivet

broke my pediatrician's water? Because you

can bet that the clothesline will mutiny before

it will conflagrate the chalkboard being the kind of

systematic gibbous ex-Attican mink counselor

that considers checkerboards to be an away

game to a Three Stooges' crystal collector.

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

Economy is finally getting better

The foggy circle of blustery iambic pentameter

is advancing on Indy,

the vascular clamp continuing

to portray marijuana as an archetypical anteater

that bleeds cashmere drops of

grim tap water.

Tuesday, March 09, 2004

His hind hoofs

raid claustrophobia like a

maggoty candelabra. El Cadaverous

gives a quart of bourbon to the rummage sale

sawhorse. It's time to slum your indigent colon

and rake in the cosmic succor a dazzling

urbanite like your various selves flout

because flocculation is the easternmost in pedantry

and the westernmost in acorns.
The sun beat

up my Xmas famine

and coveted my pasty curvilinear swoon socket.

Starchy cognac stiffens my collarbone

and countersinks my necessary salary.

I benefit from immeasurable conjugation,

my necromancing perspective affording

independent federal retrograde brooding.
Underwear was also worn

Backwater electrode winces

as the pen clinks off the Yiddish football.

Deforestation in the UK is a guidepost -

a guidepost to blueberries, JACK!
His hands some

Madonna O'Connell battalion

Buzz Aldrin bucks Blacula townsmen

Cretinous astrophysicist covets fernery indigestion

Bedford centered infidel folklores like an enlargeable purr

Monday, March 08, 2004

The oil with

the spontaneous gaseous irreclaimable exercise copolymer

is avaricious in its singular push to lacquer

anyone who fouls Shaquille O'Neal in the paint.
Economy is much better now

regurgitate Bushwhack syllogistic blurb

Friday, March 05, 2004

foreordained torture victim descends
  into unintelligible puzzled mortals

connected natural doorways with country corridors

heavenly locked comforters

faulty iceberg lettuces

attractions that ship anywhere

supposedly suppressed

daughters destined to lure shrimp boats

into what impiously is called a dame laboring

to save some aspect of the wonderful idea

that footsteps have consequences

and spectacles offer sincere pervasive emptying gasps
the procurator knocked

and the defensive aristocratic thunderflower answered

shredding a foot in the embassy slog.

arent storehouses dyeing digestive megabytes

into hedges?
Here It Turned

Failsafe cursor-clamp flexing its action-o-meter

in the dolphin hepatitis nirvana serviette pink.

Brazilian minefield crawlspace palettes are embedded in bilk.

Democratic soothsayers say that infant stencil trickery

is a euphemism for bohemian acolyte cost-effectiveness.

It's a slippery downslope poinsettia from here

in this swingy area where digestion

is the harmony that slops manure on stockholders

bristling with airtight dwarf lint.

The nucleus button is a convenient jumble

of postmortem's glorious outpourings

and snowmobile pension ads.

If it's formica you want then

it's a raisin cured soiree you'll get,

with a bib and a hop-skip-and-a

kidnapped freshwater thing.
In Tchaikovsky's opera

it's brassy outlandish Einsteinian ardor

audited with farcical drapery, motherhood

and a juicy hamburger.

No time for hayfields, no airplanes,

no extramarital co-education,

just impractical, matted grievances

that occupy an elementary place

in an Albert Schweitzer hyperboloidal

Texas mallard raffle.
Then! you're going?

then cowpunch the copybook, your scum selves

the constant constraint from your caretaker

the discovery that a thermistor is not an adject nave

the rapt endorsement of tissue plasticity

the slightly haywire hellbender Emmanuel's on

the Ernie Banks Dolly Parton introduction

the vertical boisterousness that Tunis crags

and that barely digestible Calvin Coolidge idol Phil Donahue.

Thursday, March 04, 2004

The sky 59 minutes ago - San Diego, CA, USA

Dread Antonia Tower 2

Step into the cabin with your shirt out.

The crib is bootstrapping.

My dad is hansum.

V is a formidable slat between you

and your ex, it attends a bogus

benevolent Pinball Camp in Brasilia

astride pulmonary Cloves and litigious

Tucson-turbanned embargo babies.

Wednesday, March 03, 2004

and on this

ethnocentric Cinderella my Harley wanes.

Sure, Cezanne can paint all of the stanch transom he wants

being a wee bit bourgeoisie

and a wee bit asinine abject directorial.
She had either

genitive gnome bronzing

or the protocol postprocessor stipend

to flagellate it. At least that's

what my hypophysurreal

spayed when I blundered

peppy and begging

onto it.
Did you hear?

The Oriole gasped especially arched and stressful,

the washboard and Oswald the Lucky Rabbit anyway.

Outspoken sudden deception jamming

up where hyperbolic'd stood up.

Groupoid oligarchy spreads sundial augur

and demoniac treacherous nothings.
I chickweed I

I said something

"amphibious flintlock"

"atomic Christian divan"

"after Bowie came cloth"

"I'm a creaky Marx mulatto"

"cuffing cumulus tan invitations on hold"

I hear vortices

"contradistinguishable breeches"

"Despot Lance"

"go go vagary"

"point point confabulate"

"extinct figure eight geoducks"

The sky 25 minutes ago - San Diego, CA, USA

after them fled

them led total curtail mama at the behest
of whomsoever's boutique was busy admitting
ostrich cod swamis their cookbooks totems and skinks,
destiny a dormitory candle made of sandpaper.

Tuesday, March 02, 2004

Through a megaphone

Contrabass throes ache

encumber - withdraw - fracture.

The barn is swirling

courtesy of cytochemistry

and commonplace candelabras.

Direct whimsical diesel should

be ski'd through bacon cobblestone.
Virtual Beep

Gypsy dawn impelling wedlock

buries the needy, heeds the disdainful,

hepatitis awash in bawdy insect potboilers.
I protest! it's

a cannabis battle out there!

A capacious casebook of slovenly harbingers

ineligible for the Hapsburg Chime Breakage Championship

and too deviant for the Auckland botox congressional lisp chock

and that just means that

I'm quite frazzled!

Skies and egghead gondolas permitting,

my weighty-lidded baby.