TRUCE

I figured that this is only the way to deliver the camouflage, secrecy and openness both veered off course a long time ago, leaving a bitter taste in everyone's mouths. At present, the villains of literature have made a rendezvous with a constellation of Michelin stars and WILL complain about the sauerkraut. So you drank a bottle of Niquil and felt a bit dizzy? See through the bright lights and put your Glock back beneath your belt. Tell me why you made these creatures out of felt.
How far is as far as I know? Distance keeps stretching past the barricades and budgerigars of space and faceless comedians. (who shaln't remain nameless) Time will tell you that you didn't put enough money in the parking meter. The next thing you know you're on eBay ordering saltpeter. Life is like a midget, too short to ride the rollercoaster. I say this while I eye up your four slice toaster. I'm a hungry man, and two slices just doesn't cut it.

Your face is at the end of my verbal katana, tragedy as I slip on a discarded banana.
why did you put balloons over both of your fists and beat up Bobby Brown?
to circumvent the social superstructures that built up since you moved out of town.
the vote is unanimous, animate and rolling down the road. Too bad, you didn't put the handbrake on. Lyrical failures deflating into hyperspace, get on the linguaphone and learn another language.
here we go again flexing text on the xerox, yuppies pumping their fists in time with the drabness. We're having a rave in the penthouse of Canary Wharf, then flying out to Dusseldorf away from the ensuing law forces. I see them ride in their flashing fiberglass horses.

Anyway, As I said, at the end of the day, after all is said and done, in conclusion, finally, my point is that, what i have to say is, theoretically the solution is,












-//-//////-///-

... the Angel's arrival was abrupt and slightly abrasive like sandpaper. A plume of bone dust spread out as it landed with a muffled thud on the ancient stone sanctuary floor. A deep red lantern lit high above me, from where the creature fell, gave me a sense of protection. Feathered skin, it's wings almost metallic, shone with an opalescent refraction of light which audibly ringed around them. Everything was still.

Trying not to meet it's gaze, I avoidantly took in it's appearance. It's face was like a wooden mask soaked in a strange amber oil the consistency of molasses.
pupils of pure empathetic fire languished in the glimmering dark recesses which were it's eyes; they occasionally lapped against the rim of it's face like waves slowly crashing against a desolate coastline. I stepped forward greet it and to ask it's name, " Excus - - " my hand reached out...

It moved quickly and heavily on it's wings towards a stone cove before i could utter the words, the high pitch noise of light, shifted and altered as it moved. It seemed as though the room were saturated in it, and the presence of life was a disturbance.

My thoughts slowed down to a point, then a spark of intuition flashed inside my skull, which caused my eyes to narrow and my already outstretched arm to recoil and cover my face as earth, glass and powdered bone blasted toward me in an almighty pulse that emanated from the stone cove where the angel had crept. My weight shifted as i braced the impact, and when it had ended, I fell to my knees.

PLEASEd o O

blurred menace, chaste diplomat.
resolute in all four suits, a quick shuffle,
maximises input in lieu of persuasion.

phony and angered, boxed, squared, segmented
rolled on your tongue until it fits through
the needlepoint, stretched mouths gasping.
as if wire fires from your optic nerves
attaches to your decaying platelets of vision.

suction caps placed over your teats
milked and spun into silk,
unraveled flesh, spun onto looms
quartered up into value cuts,
the Jack of clubs melted the icecaps
with a flamethrower and his carbon candles.

who's got the power now, air miles evacuated losing the high, high,
this makes me alive, where i thrive, webs are an image, legs like knives,
inticing blind pork rinds into landmines where, with their credit cards snort lines.
your rhymescheme ordered me veal, and i declined.
slivers of divinity echo down smoke chambers in hollowed out earth.
mirth and menthol holiday period to the valleys of indonesia.
ample description included in textbook
up above the excrement, past your niceities over the roundabout
the final furlongs captured on your ex boyfriends super 8
wasn't he artistic.

ver bail out.

taste testing golden quail's eggs, stirring up a typhoon of gastronomical wonderment

DOCU 8f

paraphenalia accumulated, laden with dust, under bedclothes and wet laundry, the Shala apartment with that smell of sun and old soap, while the grey radio plays. Bubbles float by and your cat climbed the telegraph pole. Hiccups last for hours, in the rush of youth, tantalised by the future keepsakes of yesteryear, what malcontent have you sprayed on yourself since that fateful day, that forgotten era? Punctuation and structure abandoned, have thou honestly considered the precursors to the situation you are now in, to feel. why does this come to you now? the ephemera of your subconcious, peeling like paint, tarnished. you used to be ancient, now reclined in dark blue, closed and appalled at returning to form. you have destructured yourself, and pieced yourself back together. you are a living crying analysis, analysing, shying away from the unlearnt, which comes in seperate catagories. Filed alphabetically A-Z and Symbls slashed numerical data. Shredding pangs in yur arm, like duck and chinese kiss, under palm moon wheatfields, dangerous spider in a crystal web above you, four thousand undulating choral whispers, plyphonic to the meter specified by you and you alone. Mercury shines in the light of the young hyena, milk sap from tree bark, sticky to the touch on thin tan fingers. pink pleated, round eyed. Black taxi skulks out, burnt heavy, hulk ships infringe on the legitimate request of nature threatened, chased by heaven, so put down your weapons. unfettered temptress, risen like bread. water drains solitary and meaningful. this is not the end.

thing

you are ever changing,
space debris and tears,
the enamel of your teeth
now rests in flowerpot pieces
hurled towards the outer reaches
of the universe.

the acid of your stomach
burns holes through dark matter.
into which your prying eyes slip
red blue and green,
never to be seen again

your oxygen
set aflame in a dwarfing star.
.

uhh...

im unstable like nitroglycerin, watch me pull the pin, wrap your head in tin foil, fry your face in sunflower oil while your organs boil in a body bag, my dogs tail wags cos he's waiting to feed on your blackened skull, your opinion is null and most definately void, youd get better reception on an asteroid flying into outer space. maybe you can make a belt, cos i wanna watch your face melt as you head into the burning sun like a firework, you see me smirk at your miserable demise, my words gather round you like a swarm of flies, cos you fucking stink like shit, youre reeking out the place like an obese man on a hot day lifting up his armpits standing in a cat litter, follow him on twitter, get resentful and bitter while you sit on the shitter eating meat in a pitta.

Yu & uY < < bark > >

type out your horror. Xanthan Gum. If you are reading this, (which you're not) then. um. yeah.

Today the sun is colder, colder than it was maybe last week? I would take a photo, but i'd rather hack into your RM nimbus and make a pattern on Logo.

- 232 Kelvin and falling. Words that are willing and able, grated like parmesan over a thin crust base. Making my fingernails ache, my teeth sweat and my skin fold up neatly and put itself away in a drawer ready to be worn by someone else who doesn't have a skin.

Acacia leaves paw the sky, waiting to be nourished,
lip syncing to the sound of whatever you want.
I cant really be versed in the tomes of wave goodbye.
Coco Monkey in the passenger seat of a minibus, eyes you slowly as the vehicle pulls away.
good grief, bad grief, ok grief, heres the deal.
i know we said we'd meet again, but I don't think thats such a good idea.
Uploading nothing.

if i was one of those people who paint pictures painting pictures
or those 90's european airbrush artists, or puppets in boxes who just stand there.
stand there, motionless not even waiting for anything. their insides scraped clean and replaced with old time confectionary, the stuff your grandma really likes, and gets emotional over.
laughing at you all the way down the street.
talkative as always, they slink inside gasping for air.
well, thats the spirit. i guess. i cant keep up with all these thoughts, wrenched from every angle of a psychological being and be anchored down by form, a freeflowing output of melancholy carving, etching a mask of insipid grey slather. rather appallingly appraised by nothing.
a wow factor of nil, one comes crawling in, reeking of ineptitude.
Dullard ducking away from the talons and whips hiding in a small trench, runs away and finds a place to stay in the woods, a nice little thatched cottage, suprisingly it is empty, just like him.

i'll just post this now. ¬_¬