tea leave etchings

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I wonder what net I can knit to capture you And what tints I can sift to loose this nasty hue

Monday, January 30, 2006

sullied thoughts for disposure

Charles Whitimore’s gilded cock
36 rusted musket locks
beaded eyes in v-shaped flocks
head in south for the squid kill docks

sippin’ straw round the curve of the wrist
torso born phallic tubular cists
cataractic clasps to subdue the list
viscous sewer side one way kiss

a ball of the foot laceration mood
palm slide up the tentacle fluid
dusky chink peering distance crude
submerge to drown kill all the genital food

eye fuck
closest thing to anything at all
ear cup
a response to the deciduous call

a lackluster filibuster glint
Milk Tint

Thursday, January 19, 2006

日本語で書かれた翌朝の雰囲気

新品同様方法の如く
うとうと色の勧告
ふうふう息ような約束
唾を乞う

必ずいつも通り
toastとeggsの為独り
朗々としとる氷
古着ぽい風

砂糖を注ぎ込むと
昇っとる水位と縫うと
眠り込まれた無糖
コーヒー関係が

ぼるぼるにしたblink
べらべら色のインク
靴下で縫われたthink
下角目毬

消耗同等
むんむん想像
少々豊漁
ふんふんそうそう

描いた手首の匂い
台所に住んどる鯉
地下の窓マークの猛威
液を奪う

欠伸しておる割れ目
だらだらしとる折れ目
編まれた睫毛俺目
息を喰らう

灰色肺胞
ぜいぜい前面
犀色寮母
外形変遷

コーヒーで寝ます
cause he眠らず

新品同様のように起きる
近隣の場所から尽きる
ぶらつく霧雨を切る
と、括る

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

spits in spirits while drinking spirits

Pink sleet beats on
my from tongue wrung umbrella
on pink streets me feets strum
a hum hung with a ped o' drum

the formed storm isn't ush’al conform
the drops i kicks up do licks
the fella in the umbrella cellar
when facing the pallet based precipitation

it's raining tongues, slugs shot from guns
like facial crumbs, mastication victims
it's a drizzle of dribble, salivary spittle
a puddle to muddle with a disgruntled word stubble

Pink sleet at my feet brings soft flesh street heat
i conceit with the umbrellas defeat and proceed
to be tasted, basted in wasted in slips of the tongue
slippin the thumb past the gums to make sure i still have one

with the salvias cumulus above to humble us
and tumble us in continuous taste buds thus
my flavor's savored with precipitating favor
in unsheltered seats i peek the pink sleet

Pink sleet indeed, spit beads and seeds that proceed
under the tongues urges, emerges, and surge as reeds
reeds to read the palatable brain feed
they grow in thick tufts and bludgeoned by pink stuffs

flesh colored anvils that tumble and ramble a preamble of psychobabble
their evictions of dictions have wet the roads, are smitten
with low leafed leaflets grown by beefed teethless
mouth contents, content with fervent mispronouncements

the pink sleet puddles in the streets in piles of beat meat
to eat the thin sheets of gravel based taste
Praise the twelve sons, i believe it is raining tongues

suggestions about the future from someone who needs suggestions about the future

Glance at the moon
See it from the corner of your eye
Just take a glimpse
In the pause of a blink

See it’s a circle
See only that it’s a circle
Don’t take it all in
Just take it all in a glance

Twist in the moon drenched
My how your chords do struggle
But let the tide take you to shore
Take you to shore

And sure you’re not sure
What the shore could be
But darling the thing is
There’s never a sure shore

Don’t look for the moonlight
Catch its reflections out a mirror
Catch its shadow on a rug
Touch its silken silhouette

Don’t look at the moon
Let an eyelash bisect it as
You pan the panorama
Darling, there is no lighthouse

Darling let the snowdrift lift you
Let some breeze ease you in
Let the puddles cradle your feet
Darling let the moon swoon you

Glance at the moon
See it from the corner of your eye
Don’t take it all in
Just take it all in a glance