Mao Tse Tung’s assertion does not educate
but does investigate a thirst trap for knowledge. You spittle spattle criminal translations while a blinded man gropes his fishies. Such cuntish dispositions stem from a cuntish decision
a cuntish decision stems from a cuntish judgment
+ a cuntish judgment stems from a Thoreau
+ necessary recuntaissance
+ from Poundering on
+ piecing together a Dada of various cunts gathered through recuntaissance. With zeal a thirst trap for knowledge is hobby-cock. Does a hobbyhorse have a hickory dick. Does a fish still have fellow feelings after discarding a drowsy dross. All these applicable accounts
Marlowe minds
already maid to proceed a study of imaginary dyes. Besides
a study working out plant sex organs cuntpletes a process of knowing a situation’s visions
tastes
refusals
+ projects. Petraches an enemy’s situation retaining a true fool edging closer to a butt’s cracked petal. Eliminating false cuntsciousness so as to stick to limits of investigative capacity measured in cuntparison to weight gain frenzy threatening to smack upside a head with a dislodged bookshelf.
Thank you for not pushing all this oxygen
carbon
hydrogen
nitrogen
calcium
+ phosphorus up a bookcase. You grabbed all this potbelly
snurgling pathedick. Thank You for applying all these possible
+ necessary methods of recuntaissance
cuntpaining about adoring a condom after sex. Writing planners speak detergently so as to manner a social cipher swelling to pin down a laser Marx on paparus. A preposition threads one word to another so a baby understands a reference other than mama. Remain superficial or get to a cuntrete essence or a walnut will replace this throat
filling it with accounts of one's shelves. Silence’s rights. When I finally lobby this shelf to speak a decision becomes nil from heavy drinking. So I drink only water
+ as a special treat
filth.
Critical Abandonment - For Eva Hayward
I raise an index finger to prove a point. It is true You have always wanted love to be hurtful. Hurt is a masochistic enactment when You claim an animal lacks
waiting
panting. Is wanting everything. When You inscribe any kind of intentionality on a pet You bind disappoint to a future rippling clause. Fleshy indifference is a rhetorical term for animals measuring off human proclamations of animality. It is true You are of a body. It is true You are a good puppy. Such a good puppy. Such a good puppy. Such a good puppy. Such a good pussy. Everything is meat cereal to a cat. A lot of animals straddle a beauty they are unable to pass on without projectile inferences. It is true words focus attention. It is true too many words disembody. I hesitate to plagiarize a future. Tomorrow is a long way off. I do not want to be alone. It is true. It is true You engage materialism at its most radical. Transfixed You slice an index finger off to embody an encounter with proven points. Translucent possibility without a cut is impossibility. It is true a cut is unlimited because materially it does exist. It does exist if I could point to it. It is true You are not hurt You are healing. You are healing because You told I so
+ I believe what You tell I. You are full. You are full. You are full. You are so delightfully full of telling. I show colourful pus from what is left of an index finger. I cut off what is left refusing two sides to every story. Save a middle finger grind a rest whole. I stick a severed digit into existence
it smells of everything.
Hysteria”
BAM hysteria erupts that poem. Yet
You cannot show hysteria erupting that which cannot pin down. Just to touch that meaning. Life is not worth living if you cannot kiss everything. In that poem
a story about You
+ I functions. In that essay
a story about You
+ I terminates a type of writing that cannot be written down
Otherwise You
+ I could cause humungo losses for a univercity. In that therapy session
a story about You
+ I functions by a splendor of revelatory chitchat. In that poem
You
+ I expect distortion
rearrangement
fraggle rocks. Inexactness expectorates poetry. If You
+ I speak like that poem
You
+ I are incapable of giving an ordered hystori of a life worth kissing. Hystori en vogues after suffering a desire to reminisce. So
I will die at 69 for all a fun dying will offer whom
+ what I relate with
+ to. Okay
ask a hysteric to enact a talking stick cure
+ a hysteric will erupt a following:
Down from a peaks of Olympia
You anger a heart. A Sun is subordinate to a Moon. Earth acquires its solar character. You witness Neptune crash into Earth’s orbit
a farthest known planet from a Sun.
I am a Great Dark Spot
+ You are a Great Dark Spot’s Bright Smudge.
A hysteric sounds off like a traumatized traumatizing all whom a hysteric sounds off to. Projectile vomit verse. A limitation of speech
I experience
includes prepositional clauses
+ balancing divine masculinity with internal scrutiny. So
I become a tree during a fever dream for apples. You
+ I are psychological conditions of an orchard pinning sound. Speaking
like hysteria
can be played.
Demands import an end to a system that demands equal pay as long as Asociación Madres de Plaza de Mayo continue to erupt their children back. One hundred hysterics force a cuniverity gate to octopus tag
erupting:
King
Give us a soldier
Country
Country
We want soldiers to cry on. So
A king sends out his army clad in nothing but vermillion pantyhose
+ tentacle tattoos. Some suckers strut just outside fascinating fascia. One hundred hysterics modify reality
sucker on sucker
with modified time
passionate timelessness. Such amorous krakens fill 169 square kilometers of ocean. They can stay like this forever if they wish
because there are no more day jobs
only an old dirty power to BAM.
If I were a dildo
Would I still sneeze when someone thought of me. Would my sneeze sound instead soft
+ delightful. I would wed your ear with sufferable twitters. But I am not done educating to write that adage. Like Buffy a Vampire Slayer
But rather stakes there is what’s at stake
An assortment of dildos on a utility belt. Like Batman But rather utility belts there are no cops
A utilitarian fishing sense. Like Project Runway
But rather runways runaways
But not out there alone in relation with subjects
+ objects. Like an experiencing subject
But rather ideological determination an orientation from a position knowing illusions are destroyed.
You
+ I have been through substantial beginnings
+ sustainable endings.
If post-dildo were a title
It would fully consent to never require substantial explanation. Like a MacGuffin
But rather a briefcase de-professionalize
A line up of poets shredding curriculum vitaes
Gluing together strips of self-worth into serviceable poems. Like Office Space
But rather post-it armour posting squids online
Prehensile processes contradicting a scales. Love tipping. Post-dildo is deep. Like Andromeda
But rather frozen in time for 300 years You
+ I are awake
Adopting an uncanny resemblance to a preying form.
Knees pray more than a threatened mouse. Squeaking
What is an erotic now
+ what should an erotic be. A small
narrow closed singularity
Making love to a cow coming by an uncanny resemblance to mother’s milk.
If You
+ I get lost in reverie
How did You
+ I play after a loss of all these baby teeth. Like La Part Maudite
But rather an apologist for Stalinism an accursed shares
Counter-counter revolutionary sympathies from South China sea to shining South China sea. You
+ I fight by design. These chicks
Too
Demonstrate unexpectedly poor skills at finding food in a maze.
If Darwin himself was stymied by an appendix what would he think about global warming. Like A Rolling Stones
But rather I’m a bleeding volcano You
+ I bleed a volcano
A regular cycle passed onto our adopted tweens. Like Kim Gordon
But rather the end of capitalism is coming an end of capitalism is coming.
EDUCATING MARIE #2019
When you first emerged into the world dressed in women's clothing
I balked a keg stand, pushed up your dress so as not to showcase
Sheer black mid length thigh matchy-matching affair's online
When you first emerged into the world bitten by scorn
I kept my dentures at bay
Truth is not a particularly useful or plausible concept in love
The truth is I just ate my friend and will never eat a new one
I ridiculed your first emergence like a little bitch
Calf jealousy calf masculinity calf excuses
I dine alone by binding myself approvingly to a troft full truth
The difference between understanding and accepting is one resumes
When you first emerged into the world touching yourself
I immediately dispensed with diapers
And accepted you show the world everything
Sorry to truth you to death when you first emerged
Now I drown myself in a plate of shrimp
post-dildo - in process
The dildo goes down on the fall of the Roman Empire.
On the dildo Francis King quotes Burchardus,
A medieval Bishop of worms does what certain women are accustomed to do.
That is,
Make certain contraptions or contrivances in the form of the male instrument,
Its dimensions according to preference,
And fastened with several straps to private parts or those of lovers,
So that fornication with other women happens,
Or others with the same instrument
(or with another instrument),
To you. If you have done this,
Five years penance on public holidays.
If you do what certain women wont to do,
With the aforementioned contraptions or some such contrivances,
Fornicate alone with yourself.
If you do this,
One year penance on public holidays.
Go down on the fall of the Roman Empire.
The fall of the Roman Empire cums for beginnings,
Bends over the failures of forced rules.
Tease the fall of the Roman Empire with the tip of aforementioned contraptions,
While the rise of Christianity watches through a peephole sized rip on the purple cloak of the hubris of Empire.
Unlike the fall of earlier Empires,
Such as the Assryian
And Persian,
Rome did not succumb to either war or revolution,
But financial power.
“Name your price,”
Whimpers the fall of the Roman Empire.
“I’ll do anything you want.”
NO.
…it feels good
when you play my body
luck be a body tonight
it is all a state of J-E-L-L-O
J-A-I-L time inadequacy
prison abolitionism
shipless oceans
to your singing eyes
doom in loving
sail to me
let me unfold
here I am
raging to hold you
nothing can undo
I want to know
if you are okay
this is not a P-O-E-M
suffragette smokers
leading advertisements
a rapist in jail
means prisons still exist
it is not funny
no laughing matter
it feels good
to smell everything
desire a sustained feeling
broken by distraction
no sexual experience
not interested in sexual
sexual concatenation
disconnect from physical contact
from intimacy
beacon of hope
so far gone
no sex your whole life
where I was
I would be upset
I would feel a whole lot of emotions
self-made monies
aspect of dedication
nothing else to worry
about but opponent processes
that one thing you can focus
all your attention
everything else, everything else
melts away
the body might decompose
it is not abnormal at all
I got something that is
as basic and neutral as possible
LAURE’S priest rings a bell until he dies
LAURE’S priest cannot eat
a small amount of air provided
LAURE’S priest gets to death
situation contradiction
desire ethics
desire for something unethical
LAURE’S priest makes me wet
something
this intense desire destroys a person
play that sound
peak and break
dip again
you and I go to the same place
it is a wild place
you and I stay there until you and I
show ourselves a ritual
making coffee or making breakfast
desire from the mouth
comes from the mouth
I read about you in a book
no country in or out
future horror
when am I on
I am on…
How shall you fuck without causing harm
the scene, the fantasy, is specifically opposed to yes I do yes
sex isn’t an escape, it works for awhile
then it doesn’t, then it does again, then it doesn’t
How shall you fuck like the Vestal Virgins
where oral sex is good conversation and entering life is a choice
boring adventures ruin time, disturb the possibility life is there
if not by your hands, but my own
How shall you fuck an inner ear condition
understood in terms of the need to relive great anguish
at the end of the movie Hard Candy she hands him rope
I am a sniper aiming for earlobes as opposed to junk
occasionally these more sadistic musings cause you discomfort
cause me hypocrisy
How shall you fuck the pain away
move to the country, eat you a lot of peaches
if buying land is your solution, a negative judgment shall be made
I hand you rope you know what to do
… I always among graves,
roll back pain.
As far back as I can remember,
I feticide storms brimming paradise.
Feeling somewhat a beast
in my exploits.
Fucking for sportcheck,
peach butt conundrum.
Marie Madeline certainly reads from
the contemplative life.
After the scandal
appears a mark of compassion
on our storms’ serene face.
What came first storm for son,
a perfect naivety scene
a highly particularized,
individually defined expertise.
I, everything, come to the man
who waits.
Celestial trigger hurts
the proceedings.
Suffice sacrifice invested
tender tenderloins
and, now, everything rhythms.
Love dead-lift us up where we belong,
never has jealousy added to character.
Turquoise-eyed monster, unfortunately,
her pools antecede Eden.
I, the torpor, of those long fades,
exult shorts.
Melt down circumference,
a new shape to chokehold.
Cuckold.
I, here is love,
all we have to do is touch it.
Tapping a dicey loan with
the magic wand of financialization,
a memory sums up several days.
At all costs, we will get there
negated and fucked to smithereens,
but we’ll get there.
In fact, it is the only true thing.
Smells of andouille to politics
show up on Friday schemes.
Forget about babies
never imagination.
From this rent hike sans skirt hike
later, I damned pettiness.
Inborn sarcophagus
assorted by the state,
no less.
Big whoop,
of course it all goes down
hellish in a sanitary hand bucket.
I jest, I jest, I jest,
lightly moved the mob’s decision
to off family purity.
All these lacks deserve a lackey,
supportive briefs,
a fluffy ball tickler.
Techniques the size of the population.
I, everything, coated slime.
While each element of industry
saturates plant sculptures
with Piss Christ’s’ godly gasoline
intermingling freely with the desires.
I, someone to be kind too.
Must not pray too hard
or God will scoop me.
Jellyfish rings a dead beauteous
fish brigade.
The neck of capitalism
decides whether living is resistance
or suicide’s only way.
Intimate journals offer sex monopolies.
What is needed, astonishment.
Theoretical calculations,
restorative lilacs cast anal foreplay
for the role of one of Three Marys.
Apricot plants apricot tree,
money commodifies money
is how we account simplicities.
Hear us gasp at heaving language
no massive chorus, no big production,
no bitter moon, no meagre diet
to spit on my grave with.
It seems to be assumed man is independent of his privates
once poured tequila on a fire pit to prove a point to teenagers
this is the way the world ends not with a bang but a gargle
what kind of high does a poetic line offer
It seems to be assumed two nuclei form one derives two
It seems to be assumed two new beings are equal products of the first
It seems to be assumed equality
the kind of high a poetic line offers lovingly tears the nasal cavity
bloody boogers for days for weeks for all is fair in love
toss gorgeous when all is blown away it goes away
It seems to be assumed a drug metaphor is apparent
when we forget kindness is not how I met your mother
It seems to be assumed your mother has disappeared
as if nothing more than a baby bell pepper or headed cabbage
or a very dense central region of an atom
Usually we regard loneliness as an enemy
when there’s no reference point it is difficult to say I love you
years and years of swiping left make it all the more impossible
Usually we regard loneliness as an absorbing case study for the treatment of deviance
a genesis wantable unloveable a river
I just want to relax and die in a detox centre from too much health
Usually we regard loneliness as not knowing what to do with yourself
we cannot, of course, determine what is at stake when knowing
Usually we regard loneliness as cold food
when it pukes its insides soft it is difficult to leave throw up behind without lapping it
Usually we regard loneliness as that which to run away from
I yearn to nurture it in my bear hands if it will let me
No man as wise as when you’re ready to listen to him
thank you, scholar, for adventures in repetition compulsion
No man as wise as his repairs
just leave is not an option for individuals exposed to the bachelor
zinc phosphide disturbs bowels enough to take a walk outside
you may not like rats but they want to like you
No man as wise as ulterior gains
No man as wise as his last attempt at self-defence
ethical and legal strikes strike your subjecthood's back side
the grass is greener on the other cheek
No man as wise as the language of the oppressed
study a bruise long enough insatiate the nerve
sympathetic fusion and all that jazz
your body following your head
bite harder next time no time next
After the revolution you broke my heart
I am shit poor at flirting now without you
this is how I speak to you now I speak to what is
yes I do yes I speak to what is now unaccounted for
After the revolution your feelings for me changed
as mine did not for you but did for you
lovers follow each other you and I had torches friends
After the revolution you can never text me again
After the revolution text messages no longer exist
nor do books instruct you and I to love communicate
After the revolution my self-concept was your concept
all your far-fetched childhood dreams came true
After the revolution you never call me sweetie
After the revolution what else do you and I have
can you ask? You and I loved, and that was it
The culture has an abstract idea of culture
imagine the mechanism of copulation twist it 180 degrees
it doesn’t exactly make me want to have sex in one motion
The culture has an abstract idea of approval ratings
The culture has an abstract idea of advanced artistic practices
I like pornography but does pornography like me
every time I watch it irritates my mucous membranes
The culture has an abstract idea of finger fucking
The culture has an abstract idea of sexual fantasies
a cluster of giant pandas encircle my behind puff huff
most women approach estrus mid March through mid April
women go to the outskirts of their ranges rub their anal areas
on trees rocks deposit smelly tangential secretaries
typing as quick as thought so as to not miss this one day for hating
they do these barks like a dog they do lunges and they do squats
The culture has an abstract idea of physical altercations
they have just this one day with a day or two on either side
it all depends on who moves first when the door opens
when the smallest penis in the animal kingdom discloses
In the business of punishment a chokehold either kills or pleases
o musk of gentle Juniper let's go thank and encourage him
In the business of punishment the cosmo guy is the only guy
an adulterous bigot marries and impregnates in protest
a boring fool who stays at home adorned with a laurel wreath
makes love even madder and names his pets a pet name
In the business of punishment a couple in love picks a bay sprig
forbids the other say hello to anyone other than the other
In the business of punishment areas of interest act the past
bees and butterflies seldom visit that which contains no nectar
In the business of punishment crops whipped with elder will save blight
In the business of punishment a child beat with elder will fade away
a child believed to have been made of wood and lies but the truth is
consent is mandatory and, with me, so is Shakespeare
It girl punk come in through the kitchen window
she got a good job with the Cadillac of pensions
It girl no feel good scraped knees carrot blades
hanging by the seat of her panties half the time
other half she sucking off the devil’s tail’s tall tales
and all shining together prettily sobbing sweet bb Jesus
blessed be the fruit praised be the Lord all Mighty
It girl passes her time in a passive delirium of satisfaction
learns to trust never has to say no which is good
It girl kaleidoscopes consent delivered in a cum sock
patterns of similar heartbeat blood pressure breathing
after a man rapes there is always a refractory period
in which he cannot rape again though is this true for most
It girl capable of great expansion and many more
This one is about spiritual homesickness
as soon as I lay them down it is not helpful for the working classes
This one is about a dumb show on a slow clock and this one
is directly related to their question about penis variations
in its normal state it hangs down lonely
This one is really on spot and this one refuses Dr. Phil
look over their knitting of little red squares of selfishness
This one echoes risk by taking the universe a part
one little red square at a time
This one is a dirty limerick and goes out to
ze zailors I’ve zomething to zell
This one seems to go well I started crying and it was tomorrow
if I were Leonard Cohen I would have died too
isn’t there a way to prevent all this terrible suffering?
only if they clap their hands and mean it yes
I cannot jump rope off these ropes
This way
Anymore
Blood suffering
Dolls introduce to more beauties
Dust to side chicks
——————————
I forget the words
The ones which make it right
Medallion
Was one
I want to say Life of Brain Hole
Another
I gather a small army
A line, this time, frequented by so many
In so many and too many
I tell Honey, die as you must
I respect their life’s limitations
——————————
When the body is no good
When the words not even
As we love ourselves
As we kiss ourselves
Fuck ourselves
What is the mind’s eye if not a hippie tool
And if God Hates Hippies
She must hate us most of all for the permission
————
film still by jessa carter (murcia, spain)