Sunday, February 15, 2009

chunks cavort

goal in this world is to sell you all some fucking

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


No comments: