she spellchecks this current head. sifts silted chips - all blue seamed n restless.
he answers her doors in rages, jittery tongued like bible belt monstrosity.
each mouth bellowed her names in sun-fucked fruit. we sit sly in these buses
waiting for words to touch like cancer. all button-lipped n nipple tripped.
swollen-eyed, he imagines her hands inside him.
those sex-black nails tear throats like porn-grease. her windowless faces.
he reached deep for unspent stones; stain-proof and chatters.
we seek these massive walls of disco breath. this fringe-like tunnel squeal.
he ate most traffic in stages; sold lite packets in shiny-leafed rooms.
we emboss ourselves in new dissidence each day. old gnu-skool remedies.
western n frantic my truncheon wept like jesus. but fucked like mothers.
these hits gettin bigger, like giant mental boxes. spikes n fluid render me framed.
in backyard solo-man rigidity he grasps rails.
breathes quik white-hiss groans with them.
that perfect steel skin melts in him - heats in rhythmic pleasures.
his only hole hums in fortunate greed.
his/her waves of tongues flick these heads.
choosing each throb. they grind in suction.
s/he tastes each motion. in sun bites she sighs deeper.
we eat stroked tracts of her in long sweeps.
now so shared, she grins in bold goddess pose:
nipples high. begs for her men.
and we take her like rapists, her solo-grrl body granted.
all parts sing her hymns at the sky.
praising the god of fucking.
keep yr perfect gleaming head low.
solar pillows fly like blonde panels, wet missiles into her cradled mass,
lets be the glistening ballistic, we chant in shopping mall bliss. totally listens for lips.
one up for the plastic bag whitebread fuckers. she banks in hilltop drag.
they all have secret product issues; we line yr shelves in six-string clitoris.
mirror minor mind-set packages blowing like processed london sex faces.
in newfound treaty we build sonik castles on rotted stumps.
skin harder than thou - this japanese fetish year.
semiotic w disturbances
they bellow slow strings/du-codes/wanton bile of propane fear
get yr gloss-packs of despair in the snail: control-face, mono-method targets.
in boxes by gates in bent hinges, we rust each metallic pore.
shuttled rain in texas ammo clusters; we breath their depletion air.
do not touch the brand-name collage - swallow all heels.
we strap striped balls to our torn bleeding mouths;
this vomit-monster guru struts bigskool.
they made me drink crude-buckets of dense black oil.
sand grate his searing throat.
we scream tears of stale saline in mainframe bubbles - no fucking war.
buttoned-up like badges we trail deputies to reffo creation zones
ya can't eat boxes of spent guns, she sprees hard in aircon'ed light.
uber-chant bombs. these hardcore bitches in moustaches and gunsmoke.
sometimes/always they lick at his presidential shaft
seeking permission to swallow him whole
her revolutory backpack. nail spikes to his faces.
baby cheeks n teeth n skulls crush underfoot
mashed in gnarly steel n bone sculptures.
this bleeding road to surreal democracies.
castout freekscore rhymes
from here, in that scorched concrete face,
we sent leftist diagnoses; beat thick bookie skull training.
i always love my lovers like the wind. we bless.
god speaks in ministry of sonik overhauls. baked trolleys in the perth sun.
my bart simpson cradle cap. collated like stormtroopers on big acid tiles.
we all sell stolen parts. pretend like capital ignorance.
thin/fat lips eat my screamin hips. we bent her backwards in teams of poets.
we cruise like uranium fuck. i missed the slow strikes; all stroked like egos.
give me headjobs, they invariably chanted like no-war children.
we gave our bleeding sluts to the lord and bailed fast.
i only send these tricks for apathetic signals - peaking at her corporate soul.
we sweat six drips and creep up the selfish inner thigh.
we all dream of sub-rape. all softy-skin vs hard-skool velvet lengths.
her hair like wet paddocks. these trees bloated like chinese limbs.
lean street justice - string fragments circa3003
OUR NEW GOD SAYS:
hope speed crick necks breech fish this twist.
then lift this big face wide lace sun-burn thigh-school bent.
scales: we drift cliffs dip shit crystal maps n beans in coy mist
never keep mirror-link tribal treats inside creeks or cheeks
SEARCH DEEPER BIBLES DEEPER:
miss this blitz tricks piss the witch broods wild
please mean free scene get gleaned screens of the lean team
dont buy his thick chat n logo crap n sewerage flats n reeds n chimes
cry there croon these red and yellow ballons; goat's milk.
or trees or trees or trees; or cradles bough; trees like monarchs
or dirty-realist text endings. basal fast nu-jazz treacle.
or trees or trees. or anal sex with god.
NOW IS NEVER THEN: SAYS THE LORD
keep even loudness low: youth stretches into queer logic n corporate fun.
here: and vents eat this radical prime new process; millenia ediface.
sometimes when i die, we read (your poetic-brochures for trailers}
more polemic poem-aims depletive - these political word-slagheaps
LET HIM INTO YOUR YEAHs:
like like like like like grown-ups
these beatles up my shit-faced heart; my busted muso-driver cranes
my soul is in r shopping-body; even god is made from clocks.
repeat flavoursome rants/deeds of nesting:
web and/or character development workshops in carts.
KEEP YOU DANCIN WITH SPECIAL JESUS
im pretty sure i'm reading this elvis novel card
far too much porn-narratives now gain entry; sodomy and god.
not into bellowed plumes ov themselves
but i pray to this sunday street men:
hope if u want to; one day, somehow, we will join new skins
not mere wordbreath or lustful habits n gowns n frocks n stops.
the LORD hath said: BAREBACK, HE COMES IN ME
our solo/solid minds in sheets of beaches; printed proud like this rod.
big ones always deflate slowly in salinity-belt remedy. this city
of misreadings and desperate hardcore flowers - leaning buildings her only refuge.
here we are now: please our bags like vibrations and fake-jesus faces.
we steal smokes - still sit in huddled bubbles.
corporate dreams exhale
like inverted snatches; covert hill conversations
his logo sun feels her lips; sweet drip on/in him;
her sonic swings low.
this heavy finger pushes deeper - moans light in open sources.
we yell now at those wishlist deities thru yogic windows,
hope for new kundalini timeslots - their own prime cuts
we send skins downloaded into each thigh dance.
beats harder than grey coastal-heat lingers here
that broadband zephyr licks her grinning faces;
black desert wind laps into all holes:
never quite filled him still.
next stop still hurts, we replied in anguish.
lush bent n felt-tipped jams.
his insatiable brick mind now a summer ambulance craze.
this mobile coffee dust never eats her face;
lest we forget possible beaches; empty house dreams;
and supple addictions to hi-maintenance monarchs.