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The Poet Known as O - 3 Poems

12/26/2013

2 Comments

 
Picture
 Charlotte and her nigger

Charlotte and her nigger
walk hand-n-hood smokin Victorian porticos
on the evening of misanthropic cosmos

spun wretched, we waited for the quick
silver to erudite our nostrils
and all things

fate nests with motive, all the stars
drop to the palms of the hot-headed
stars' five points transgrassed

into the fingers of men,
the defunct pentacles shaped earthen.
the hands are effaced with the ambition of stones.

once a million eyes of god
watched our omni partition
on the dusting ground

are now rancid refrigeration, ass-up
and char-infused.  the stars' smoke cools
torpid to a pinch of salt

oh silent fart, how were you once
our ethereal watchdog!  how could god
have allowed misery and sorrow?!

Charlotte and her nigger talk
about philosophy and politics,
watching the bald city sky.






Fast                                           

bread on the table, coke on the table, pussy on the table
russians under the table
hemorrhaging holes bleed with dismay, first nubile, then
encarcerated rotten. the flag struck in new land
and over whose country is undulated flatulating,
on national pride parade, with extra tip hotdogs to fill the only other
american existential hole—hunger
The sick presses with veins,
a dumb, a thankless rod that overgrew in hedonism and excess,
the ass, a round, useless piece of pig, the breasts a milk jug,
the pussy embrace is uneffable, and holds with both hands and legs,
trying not to fall off the branch.

 





le monde

i'm dying of cancer, fuck me everyday,
in thankful gratuitous,
already corpses season in oil
and reluctantly scratch, as if silent sand grains laen,
little peppers and salts, while time slowly wanes.

there, thankfullyreproach death as is comes to
us like an unexpected lady, so dressed in red vellum
and big-breasted tires;
rims cleavage; trunk filled with unholy spirit.

The thank is
forgetten fast by the begotten careless children,
so out of pure soul thank strikes a man dead upon his soul, in

guilt.

The thank has been forgotten like
glasses of water drank
count them.

Now I laud the peculiar thanks of the liar
who makes his money off thanks
and also of the poet who is also a liar and has never been to mexico and has never read a book straight through, with lines continuous.  The tangent glides off the calculator raw and uneven
there you can microcosm its little universe and smart brain
you are nothing without your counting machines.  I smell rec
dubious heart pumping in my chest like a hamster wheel
and diminutive function.  i love the mitigate of the heart's mind--me, full brained and bodied.
Your full brains and bodies.  you and i,
both vexing grammar making choices ostentatiously
then running ostriches into the ground.

if i were to die fast and
tepid among the foliage of my keybord and ink
we can never thank enough people
who have desecrated our life with blunt knived experience and tragedy
more woes and rues than the Greek Festival. 

the lump in my brain is its own heart.  i haven't seen the doctor yet.
humanity may or may not stop
battery endings and low warning signs
le monde will seance to exist after each individual rotation

2 Comments
Matte Blk link
10/19/2020 11:38:55 am

Dont deny
the Truth:
|
'Not one soul will
perish who puts
their trust in Me'
-Jesus
|
http://AbstractVocabulary.blogspot.com

Reply
Matte Blk link
10/19/2020 11:42:53 am

On October 30, 1985,
not far from my house,
we lost our lives...

Im so ready to die now
(Im a Near Death Experiencer -
saw a lil of Seventh-Heaven):
to live! love! exponentially!
to VitSee-harmony for eternity!!
to RITE with a passion 999×999+
nonillion novels in ♡OUR♡
exalted, extravagant excess!!!

Are you? If you aint, miss gorgeous,
why donchoo make like a choochoo
and high-tail it into Seventh-Heaven
so we can eternally party-hardy, girl:

Our lit 45-caliber-blogOramma speaks
volumes IF ya gotta lotta primordial
moxie, chock! fulla! ample surrealism!!
as in: 'dunno. dijoo wannum? gotta
hooo gobba lotta nada unless youse
believe' (skuze d’New Joisey axxent).

Reply



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