goal in this world is to sell you all some fucking
—Flarf
seems like I can tear chunks
off my head now I don't remember
which bottle is mine but the peach fragments
keep uprooting coming out in handfuls
of moss and dreck it's like tearing an old
teddy apart watching the sponge fly
bye bye like I'm mining in mining in
bottles everywhere sparkling full of urine
and old wiles oh that was a big one
made me jump as a cantilever unearthed
silence beneath it in cell-earths sleep
it takes tools after a time to get further
under the dream layers so sticky so thick
with proximal fervour and tall sways
of lightning trees and the jumping shakes
I have such tools you don't believe me
but I have removed my own teeth
a swift gargle with vodka and a leverage
a short shouting pain is nothing to me and
two more hours and we'll reach the soul
hiding there under twigs waiting finally
for the rescue when the river drains out
that's all we're waiting on here that river
running out through the eyes ears mouth
of mouths be with me now in the wind
of excavation let the spine unwind
as a toy into the sheath of itself untaxed
now fuck your pratka buddha
fuck fuck the pratka buddha
loudly will we shudder
fuck the pratka buddha
.
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