Tuesday, October 28, 2014

I tweet without discipline:

https://twitter.com/steveparker333

Nazi rhino trumpet squawk

outside of the lens
we are close to orgasm

but this is not you it is
five hedgegogs and a dream pixie
of whom one has no knowledge

Nazis walk here with their rhino trumpets

why didn't you buy me a

'there is nowhere to go'

that would have made sense

I'm trying with this gingerbread to make
jesus in a bucket

and the braying of Buddhism like giant cows
foghorns through the fog
lament of dead souls how they sound
sailing slowly through
the graveyard far out
beyond at sea

with one tiny eye
affixed

you know the rest

.


so I dreams of Vikings moving house

the pink or pinkish bucket of the signifier *that*
I thought perhaps you were in love
she/he/it has to say sliding
one daff-odil
a dee O but believe and relive
now that the spumetops, the shuddering tops
with their scarves from Scandinarviax
will lower upon you like unto trolls
which is known now to be
stone and all of stone
perceived as stone of eyes
hands and mouth
think of it, Sarsen, think
stone and will not think otherwise
until your childs clink
when closely packed

.
such an issue there has been as never from the first
but that's done with
now pink rain falleth so sweet as which huge hogs
irrupt from the gutters and drains
in demand of affilial citation

but all is as naught
when the night will never

end for all of time has but evenly stopt

what Ozymandias even Jesus
the cracked clockface in the dirt
and the boys what piss upon it

now that Walpole word for castles
no not that
not yet
wait
yawn but wait
lover

.


on the writing that one will never remember

there's a cowboy in a pink suit
in the sky
in a sky blue Cadillac
by and by
but he's only there to die
in our pale blue eye
*ours but to reason why*
so, sigh

(Goodbye, Joe, me gotta go...)

.

.

Saturday, October 04, 2014

working in the dead of night

in the Lantau stations
thither and beyond
of hot wind and turtles
they cry
think now of the ocean goddess
cut and cut again for there is no real business
without cutting

of harpies and hot wind
but one doth not peak at this
which requires such aerial slash
and scimitary as mosques and boxry
in the candle spread for this only

watch and watch again as the shades and fetches
around the concubine shrubs
in the low court

where tea and hashish and craquelure are
to be found amongst lizards and others

in this almost the sort of love of which
we would wish

.