Friday, June 26, 2009

Billie Jean

at his death they came out to praise him
glad that his skin would again turn black
would make him easier to employ
—Noises of the Bad People, Isobel Fluck (1989)

there's no excuse for inobesity
in an age with lipothrust
and easy credit fraud be bop be bop beat it...

only 34 only 34 no not him he look like 70

oh this ain't charlie paharker
the woman whose heart
eventually felt like a gasp
of cold morning only

the man saw himself now as an egg broke open

I looked for my humour
found it black bile unbalanced
I ate blood pudding and oysters
..............for a month I sat there like shit

I was prescribed pornography and tumult

[this part was missing but]

found his own egg in dreams treetops
stifling and terrifying forces closed in
at the moment of waking

beat it beat it
she found now her own enemy
gathered into herself
she was a weapon
that could only be used

everything around waited for a decision
you could feel it hang
drool running out of its barrels
waiting to decide
what would be the best way to dance on this one

given that all that pissing
now had to be unpissed

she thought for a while in her dreams
that watching America do Politics
was like dying of Huntington's Chorea
by proxy

but westward look the land
is shite and Billie Jean
was not/was/was not

fucking was



turb turn

these the oysters comin in thick mothers
cross the loamin ocean-land

Billie Jean..............Billie Jean

Billie Jean..............Billie Jean

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