Quilted Opportunity
Saturday,
February 05, 2011
4:13 PM
maybe just maybe
ain’t good
enough no more.
You’re going to have
to get Prodigious in these chambers.
Illicit Up Jumped
the Sky Wild.
Fly, Kite! Fly.
Red Lined Telepathic
Symbol Smile.
And we all be
glowing.
The shy child
growing up to love people
helps the gregarious
loather
they share
skill-sets of affection!
You–still————-got-that—-magic——telephone?
The one that always
picks up when I call?
It’s helium fumes
lift the spirit in your voice,
Well hello, ah-low,
ah-low. Howaarrruuuu?
I’m just fine, I’m
so dandy, had a how-to-do
with a nare-do-well
femme, if I tell her then, she cares, I guess?
I quite agree,
exuberantly, in a plain old zip up top hat tie-dye
kind of way, you
missed a button down around your frock coat,
I clicked connect,
pushed a key across the table and
the pound sign and I
hashed it out, glad to say,
it wasn’t as if we
didn’t try three way calling,
its just, you ever
try talking to two girls at once?
like Cream cheese
real smooth,
operator can you
meet me in a phone booth.
If you get that dial
tone, please hold, please hold.
Please hold.
2/7/2011 12:51 PM
I worship pure
bliss.
Admonish the cherishment of joy and satisfaction.
I get giddy,
laughing aloud until my smile floats off into
the universe.
Impressed with
sweetness, can’t argue with blushing cheeks.
Place my hand on the
gentle curve of an expecting mother.
Looking in her eyes,
this child will not grow to disappoint her.
She stares back and
says, “I’m the nurturing kind.”
The beauty of
forgotten faces.
2/16/2011 8:52 PM
A vortex of
tranquility.
It’s a pleasant
commodity, one you don’t need.
—
Embrace the formula
that computes your delusion.
In dispute is the
basis for intrusion when in cahoots
suits the occasion.
Can’t trespass in a reflection when
it mirrors your
intention, induced inclusion behavior
work for your favor,
steal the luck, earn young girder hurdlers
eyes in the sky,
picking persons off the street fortune
talons perch my
seat, from a perspective overtly discreet
and slosh, who are
you to set-off a wined up word,
smite them to
smithereens then, and me reads the
talking kick tag tough king tied to all this
bickering.
makes sluggish the
weak, another other oscillating
waltz to contend
her, cigars and spice and to err-thing
is human, is to
err-body is getting crunk in here,
to video cogs
watching the machine,
can you make it
weep? LoL
It held a dusk
shadow. Embarrassing other beings beget in total synchrony.
Your eyes bleed the
filthy colors of the last day of a many day music-a-palooza.
Where the drugged
out strung out fans of psychic hippie bands come down,
into the dank
sobriety of being oh so very burned out. And their fragrances
occipitate in bitter
vanities. The pale etching of total wastedom cheeses
across all sight and
all sound. Until the hollow noise of the
world renders itself
unrealistic to the
point of repressed possibility, but the quitter minded of the few
casually reject
reciprocity out of some Arthurian sense of bullshit planted deep
inside our psyches;
nestled snugly in the nutsack with our balls. Tainted foods
are a serious
concern for the Summerville Grove PTA, that’s why we encourage
amnesia . The
community that forgot a tragedy. The town that got away with
MURRDER. The double
RR-ed kind is twice as bad as regular murder, and will keep
the audience
guessing for eternity the speed interest on your investment will compound
evidenced by this
short film.
A tattletale
revolution! I fibber fib the fifth amendment the man demand immanent
task relevance. But
you don’t understand, I’m a brand less tagger waving my arms
and extrapolating my
swagger. Kettle tell the tale end of it. Malreverance, inevitable
basic animosity, mammal an I mail you the message
ails you to keep guessing,
in express prattle
brained architect when the ceilings wrecked and the hours growing
famous, I think its
better if we both remain nameless, I don’t want to bring shame
to this engagement,
why bother western father folk about the lace of a raging
encasement, distaste
a plain game of elusive restraint, and
again, and again,
weather settles
tends to evaporate and remain in the clouds, until the damn
rains came and sort
of floundered waves of resolution waiting on a day in way out.
Watch me through the
key-hole while I’m changing the locks.
I ought to owe it
all to my honest hob-goblin obligations.
But when it comes
around, it is after all gooze on the Nobel Prize for litigation.
Entrails are only
Details, we let the guts fall out of the beast, and we cut for the meat.
Damn blasted
skeptics, won’t believe you? How frustrating.
I know you know you
want to. Another Epic event Sexting Empiricus.
Converted from the
confines of the subtle Agrippa, our hips tend to wiggle.
————–
2/19/2011 10:08 AM
Let me start off
with the fact that your writing induces the clunk clunk why me?
of a bound and gagged trunk hostage.
It lacks cohesions,
consistencies, you personally lack comprehension.
You hide any
possibility of real insight in the tired convolution of intense
vagaries.
When you’re not busy
beating up on yourself, you’re an arrogant psychotic.
Or else you wish you
were, you bland drone of groupthink and selfishness.
Thrown by inaction?
Symbolically insignificant. A version of your own
concoction of the
untruth. You sound like the clamoring of junior high
white socks and penny loafers. Lots of
untested little shit bags seeping their
tea just like the
Buck Rogers of 1950’s erotica reading beatniks done before them.
You want to go to
the board for this, want to take it to bat, buster its been done before.
And nobody.