Friday, June 10, 2011


My Sunday is my Sanctuary

get up early make apple walk coffee eat dog.
glom up culpable self-starters, enlist able drilling team,
abandon hope of justice for downstairs breather.
Build home around current operating theater.
Level relational terrain.

Steal back guilt from jilted troll doll.
Compose threnody, 155 bpm, lure flautist into sleepwalk
monument, steal useful memoirs, initiate termination by fume.
Unarm rubber bootlicker, separate shoulder from tear duct,
rupture black label edition mary janes by scoring with Swiss
Army toothpick. Shillyshally in face of full week’s mail.
Keep out-basket airy as Stuka sleigh, take notes
on possible oomph of second string lawnmower/kisser.
Plant upside-down pineapple grenade tree. Precipitate envy
of nineteen year old Penthouse feature quadruplets.
Buy bigger canteen. Have effervescent beverage with Hebrew.
Arbitrate disarmament amongst nations of nine or fewer.

Then anything can happen.

But I wouldn't call it drama.

Riding that train would be like a forehand straight to the Marianas.
Or a wooden handled tool slicing it into memorization.

Just a bolt that creaks, of a once spry throat in chalcedony going on nothing
but urine, the admixture a series of devil’s island playdates (for my resin and
lacquer vintage me!), donors, meta-friends, patternmakers…randomly enjoying
this fluency in a new tremen. Tree men make better lumbers!

Been terribly weakened of spirit lately, tend to spend time rifling through my lovers’
thrift store castaways. Looking for leucorrhea. Going on nothing but spidey-sense.
And the thunderstorm signaling to my fin.

The miscarriage was a breeze and I’m enjoying this new shiatsu body cast.
Not so much the mail order leaks in time.

I’m a Slipper Flicker and…

I'm a fructose intolerant armature, it means I never age.
A specter fanatic with a license to prove my caravan
is a thunderbird with built-in babysitter stirrups.
I set a fire engine red fire, seven years, a city block,
and they’re still tracing back to the smoke source.
I'm a single flannel slap with a metal language tensor.
All this means is I own my own parking meter but you
would be welcome to crook my mechanism.
I knit sand.
I swear in Gaelic but only at the peaks of famines.
I like how the green part sloshes.
I'm a Latin hesitancy escalating into a full defensive thwart.
I take a fineness course every week with a famous (you know him!)
I was scoring consistently in the early 80’s but I seem to have
misplaced my team.
People who know me call me a flaming throughput junky.

I love to spin into the bales, with or without sponsorship.
At the gym I do Yoda although they hate it (hahaha got to keep
the character flexible) I take dancers home if I’m adequately
butterflied, I sometimes skin my bumps, I rid my binaries of their
dualities, like hanging a rustler just because my skirt rode up.
I hang out with Frank and the pack in wigs, I schlep my daughter’s
Tornado in a Vacuum to an amazing amount of birthday executions.
Oh, and I cook a lotus to disprove the Buddha’s take on defloration.
I am a very specific zone of twilight.

I’m Running Out at the Eyes and…

Drinking your viscous off-white wine from an amulet in my tongue ring.

I Like to Acknowledge Your Silences and…

How fabulous my daughter and dog are on those rare but getting
commoner three bottle Wednesday nights.

Like Yoda, the Walls Have Trails…

My favorite answer is to stall, then toy with you and finally say,
“I love all the kinks of your mustache.” One of the reasons I love to spin.
But attach a bellows to a teacher and you’ve got yourself a high class BJ.
Could, would, should…if we just miss sharing it's all great time to myself.

I’ll eat just about everything but your "sweet breads" and that stuff.
And I cook everything I see...while I really enjoy good "clear" food
it’s the dirty colors that get me condensing. I’ve said it a gazillion times,
conditions are meant to be stunted.

The Penchant I Trill Heavenward Like a Heedless Strangling Oy…

I'm not furled like that...but willing.

I Fester: A Cantata to Alcoholism by Disney…

This (indicating shattered monitor) is where our next vacation is
and this (indicating fibrous tumor) is how I'm going to pay for it.
That and that way (indicating strip mine) I'm such a girl.

When the Soviets Harmonized Allentown I Was…

делать толкотню с kevin costner и половинную сваренную ногу лошади

If I were a teepee I would prorate…

By the week? By the night? By the hour? By the shores of the quiet ones
that need their rest in order to behead all the daughters in this village.
Now you must answer this question. Now you must know me too long.