X-Peri: 2020

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Daphne Augustus
The Geminii Scroll I: Scolopendrum
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1THOUSANDAND101001NIGHTS
CHILDREN OF THE BAD HOUR
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Postcards from Arcadia
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The Geminii (Purdey Lord Kreiden & Michael Thomas Taren) @ "Text-World–World-Text I"
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AI Mythology Agape_Agape_Agape
Part III (pp. 107-145)

#@FellationKelanism
‘The god #@JaIt’sMutino--Mutinus © or #@JaIt’sTutuNo--Tutinus© of #@JaIt’sAncientRome fame used to have the new brides come and sit upon his knees as if to offer him their virginity. #@JaIt’sStAugustine says: ‘The #@CelebrationOfNuptialities of the newley wedded bride used to be bidden ‘sit there, on the shaft!’ of #@JaIt’sPriapus’.
#@JaIt’sLactantius goes into even more depth with some additional details: ‘And so #@JaIt’sMutinoMutinus in whose shameful laps brides set upon in order that the god there appears to have gathered the fruit of their virginity, the unequal shape which “#@JaIt’sHymen” has no thoughts of itself & the unspared has no equal here as #@JaIt’sPontiac ‘Pil—us’ Pontiac put it, ‘Tidal forces, evidenced by speculative machines, appear, however, to have been used for offerings & the wives—who used to return to their favorite deity for a boost of fecundity—more than once, or ‘often,’ is or could be upset in balance because or if #@JaIt’sSomeone was, or ‘had fallen,’ asleep
& #@JaIt’sSomeoneElseOrOther #@JaIt’sSomeoneElse was impregnated by the
efforts,
mutually applied, let it
be said, of the #@JaIt’sMan who slept or
‘#@JaIt’sMen who slept, so called, #@JaIt’sMen who fell under the soporifice so-called spell cast by #@JaIt’sSleep

Great, you say?
Awesome?

[Insert the picture of the child in red pullover smell the thumb and fingers of the woman gently holding the lid of the so-called ‘Fotofore’ by the instructional book on buildings and the stuffed bird under the traditional gilded waiting clock by a traditional depiction of #@JaIt’sMutinoidMutinus for the modern house hold which contains in its myriad bowls
‘he ejaculated
while his pantaloons
were there, en cache.’

B: On that purpose, #@JaIt’sArnobius--Arnobium™, also asks: ‘Is it #@JaIt’sTutuno--Tutinus™ on whose huge organs and bristling tongue you think of places, you’re adorable, useful, things, that you fed & that soon should be wed, to your sons, who work for your country,’ Here, #@JaIt’sPertundra--Pertudruum© was another #@Hermaphrodite--divinity that #@JaIt’sStAugustine maliciously proposed rather to name the #@DeusPretunduus. Latin for ‘who strikes first.’ It was carried on the nuptial bed to aid the #@JaIt’sNewlyweds in their #@JaIt’sBridegroom which #@JaIt’sPertunda--Pertudruum stands or ‘impersonates’ ready there @ the foot of the #@JaIt’sBed. It was believed that the chamber of the newlyweds for their first night would necessitate the aid of #@JaIt’sPertundra--Pertudruum© and his #@JaIt’sDeusPretundus skillset in order to excavate the virginity seal whence upon seat© notarized under the auspices of #@JaIt’sArnobius-Arnobia’sKnees.

HEARTS VEINS MEMOIRIS

Turf Day : Get Rich .DS this Wblomst@hEWY.lom #@RIGHT_NOW R #@SEARCHUNDDESTROYEVERYTHINGOFEVERYTHING THAT EVER TRIED TO STOP US (#@PoliceLVLV : Period/Ejaculates/End)

A) Bromurbonerabigdowntherebathingsbathingtubes&riverfinkels

“Our curly lord!
River sealed behind your ear
You nyflowers
NIGHB NIGHTS GROWTH HERE WITH YOU,
& pushed their shirts up to their chests
The secret relates to balloons which he
recalls nonsense & expresses Thre emotions our
ideal of ideal slipfree traction
It alwaus presents the same faces
to its pretty stars
The secret relates Tree Nights, life folded into praying hands
I push his shirt off the back of the chair; megastructures, movies, the doll-ecstacy of the weather
You picked it uP

“Megastructures, movies, the dull ecstasy of the weather; all this here wil apeal from gold
& this is the placc where the crime of nonpresence of the brothers is defeated.

Hot springs are brushing my heels

“And we’ll have been here
forever has been.” --Ser John Franklin

Mollusks, streets
I hear the sound of young people talking
Greeting, “stop; turning here to see the sea
or ships, or ships, here ships stop turning &
we’ll walk to the see
& it popcorned together from bags
made of paper not plastic. Here
biting into the breathe concourse of boys
there was one but one I noticed—I wasn’t
fulfilled. I remembered: here we had been
& always has been two twin brothers
arcing together
“It’s the city that dwelt for the sea
it has always been here &
it will always be.”
Come break me radiusly
this is like you, watch, it is so funny
to watch you try
@being hungry
‘I have to be!’
We’re going upstairs & I see you
some almonds are buring
“What I thought here is that he doesn’t
put periods anywhere, here
I mean, burning, I thought he does put periods
but not everywhere or always
“That I quite moving, my spirit feels “up”
my spirit when I hear this
“be careful, I think, not too interested
not too much feelings, not too much feelings
but why? Here you don’t want me yelling from desire
@the top of the stairs running
& lust together asleep”

“Inside of me there is rain
that is where you keep me”
“I thought you would punch me
when I arrived
you see. Because I knew—well,
I could feel
You had been angry
but you look peaceful when you look at me.
You can turn you know. & I’ll cuddle you.
& you know, even when I don’t see, my
favorite thing waking up buttnaked
is to stay this way,
just walk around.
Just starting the day.
Why not go out now? Why for,
fuck the cars? I mean, hump, & perhaps
queue after that to go behind
to go behind white
& bloom.

Kind of launderish, with a leaf:
a crime scenery.
O, if I had pennies
might clean my nikes
Hmm, peace.
Peace: here crème deal struck in: we’ll keep
the milch, we’ll keep
the cheese. The eggs are shared
& sparing. One yolk = two white unchangingly
& half a yolk I realize, is not heavy,
c’mon brother, you can do it.
Rally up the stairs! & into the fridge tree!
O such a foliage, shells filled with leaves
@ cool temperature, & it’s just like the sea
I’ll stay here awhile
I enjoy this breeze
I enjoy this breeze
Life is quite foggy—actually, really.
That’s so
guide plumbnes, that fruit’s runaway
wearing such outfits
It would look good, I think, if I would wear it
saw you sneaked away with my carp
I thought to the fridge.
Will I or will I not, into the freezer deep,
o, lo, bring me down my scale.
Do it my body, after the carp,
just follow him. Ah,
on the book shelf! Next to the sodomy door
nice sight in here in the morning
Dollars are white &
built like crucified frogs
which is quite slightly or
what do you think?
I took it once, here, & I remembered it was
there
“& she was invited to them, the sister,
so that she would visit,
the brothers are here, the sodomy door,
the sodomy door! You can come in here
It is desireable
to look at quite lovely likened to the father
of all dew, dew
hard, pure erect
(1/2 4 U & ½ 4 ME That’s 4 portions)
Palmed, o that was pretty
now suck, o yes suck it
mvoving his hands, he took it so well
in the sky toward masturbating
sometime fall asleep & sky lines marveling
“I’m sentient, my gentian twin, sensations always
are so different when the sky above
seems to be watching.” Why is it
something desireable?
Look, suck it. Great shepherness dossier
he’s just nut stting & sit on my face
my favorite thing
Fond nothing to say
now give him a kiss
A long one, or mid?
No,
wearing.
#@LofotenActualité
#@FairWarnings
#@HearTheMossesDepthsWereEntwinedUnderTheWater
where you once fucked me
notthat long ago
we were buttfucking & I bite your feet
but gentle, just like
half a kiss, but with some tongue a while
& that felt something
underwater, now try it
“My little lung feels me surround him as the wolf
under the sea
when we spread our toes seize me
This is an analogy
Explain how, tell me
The wolfs you see creases surrounding all
I have left
“Please do it the rest” (Open Faced Risotto Sandwich)

“The touch never stopped
the touch really never stopped
the touch never stops.”
The touch:

:It’s Needed to Be Beautiful

“Long live the weeded ones.” [Christ Marrying His Bath]

What did I learn
& when did I learn it
how did it come
back to me
Does it come back
back to you hissed & darkened
If death for you sits
during your leep
to remember something
make something
To be rembered
Not distraction no
But dispatched by beauty
who distracts ugliness
into fantasy
which all gardens in welcome
fades
I was there, there
where lost crackle of the
hypergalleons of smoke rose
perform their deeds & eventually
dwindling through mankind
time moves backward
it is the heart that brings back
the heat of virginity
which declensional ways
permit us the proximity
of the Heave of roses

which will grow in all forms
& shapes like shrug or a boy’s wink
roses all of them with
numbers on it, symbols
that is til names better suited
to believe themselves to be
alive & lively
stripped down bare their
‘rosinity’ & start talking
for a while
til they’re saturated with languge
& they sometime mumbles
cry out with envy:
“I rose have no place for people”
now chair people are here
You rose people not here
they go deeper than where you live
& entranced by perfume
bring youths to me, now bench
& rose not to be
false homes of shrubs turn back to
roses too as they respond to clemency
& owed
like cereal islands oding the metastroplaces
refining their separation
I turn & home turns to me &
home watching general/joyeux operation,
Is the tasting of one another
& permits to remember that
the hues that construct us
elegant brides
male anointing are our bodies
bridle naturally & nautically as well
since here larva like lava
vascillates, at ease, and entangls triplets
tranquilly
also: fates the theme—the theme: do you
see me returning,
to you
as I to you
Do you see me returning
to you
as I do to you
Do you see me returning to you
as I do everyday
to my ear, hands, feet, eye and all
the rest of our body
as I do to the heaven of new shrnk
& mink which were distracted by
what reminds us (makes us
remembers) that ribs is all
there is
how do I know you, fall creature
as my infinite possibly family
intimate yes, possible
how I began—
as I begin

Here older

& odd
Likely serred
to island

island—
it’s an old lkely serred island--Odd way for the meterorites to refine that sapphirization, homeis it burnt, general-nervous, jealouz rather in the fine bathing of anther
Those hugs, elegant bridges
I know ANOINTING the hues

bridal& elegant
partake nautically as a vacuating, antiOld Christs, the separation, their separation, where home is burnt our joyous trinity fulfilling another
Hues
elegant briders
anointing
lava naturally vascillating all fades the theme—also
[fades the theme--
Pan promenading schmutzed apricot on the lips]

#@OddLikeSensatal

“I’m curious of what you nourish yourself off…I would like to try it 2.”

“Vitamns,” she responded, “You should try it!” He started laughing. “I think it’s blue or black but it looks red to me. Why enjoy reaching for your drink? I think you like it.” “Where does my heartwreck erect thee?” “We’ve longed for music.”

“I was in the real

#TrainMe2DoIt

the daughter of the devil, a tootsie mouthful I took of her

& had been declined

most respectfully.
The Present?”

“Not now, but I do huryn but not too much, for they know I’m coming, later, yes, but before I did not know what to say or where to look. I was afraid, I walked away,

around then #@YaIt’sVincity wlking the city. It’s peaceful here to look I think. For smellnesses as well
The condom was on it? I felt relieved. I walk around, yea, dhey’lls things I’ll say. They remember. It’s so simple? For example, when I’m hungray I feel naked & realize the house is empty to me. Awake house! Awake house and foam a few things/ It’s very clean here, yes, we are moving. & it’s possible naked as you can see house it is working buttnaked for chair is a charity foam on down here, please, passionate if you can, vulnerable to the skin & generous, engaged even to a passion for my buttcheeks. At ease! For buttcheeks in generalissimo htlm color will come, we’ll have a pawty. Yea, now, stop moving, you look great, foamed, mon ami, yea, especially when watched from the couloir. In isolation you look quite rested. Out of context, you will feel at lease, yes, even, perhaps a prop in a filn or, later, naked repeatedly the buttcheek fastened forward to your scene you will find moving.

§§§

All hells from the petals

“SYSTER”

M: “And out of purituy came silence
& out of filth came ruckaahe…
ruckage is good, Byron, yes, trust me
because silence need to be
able to take a break & virtue versa
obviously. The back of your tongue, Byron,

eg I suck it often but when I suck, Byron,
your balls, rippling, it is the stardboard side
I use to do it. Nekk arced a little but not painful
worry not Byron worry not & my palette
which I tongue against as a practice constantly
surey, Byron, fits its way & good they say

What air in here I breathe gently & each other
your balls they need my touch consecutively
& so tongue rotates & here the asoect of the
economy between the lips & the palette
seem fit for one who adores to sleep
with their balls wrapped between the nestled
beyondthedaycare lips.”

TANJA

Able to stay

More closely and is shall domineering less less

The less I was

As with a pencil by placing a piece of obtaining

The more I was close I

It was less disagreed partners denim looking

Up from the diagrams of the body of another person

Then there arose light be lifted up

Water there, after, people letting them

The climate shall be arguing what the middle is the middle is

It’s funny but please lets us

Remember when we please let us the body of another person

Which turned out very gay the less I was

So with you compressed thunderclap

O God I will never be here

And how in fact animals and red garden rock

The earth the very sea sway out

The fruitful is objective

Splinters, demigod, grapes and alley, can’t leave this

Won’t bend over springs like grain

The passage down to us, through each other, and the one

I would die, the turf on this, over toward (do you think)

(Things will go) (As they once did?) *

A calf with the events of language

Concerning him. I’m just afraid to connect

To rely on the same connection are working, the

You know, the German language

A loving tier, you calm passages of springs I know how to make

I’ve spiral, the multiples is just here, on branch, on verdigris

On fern, in nest not, just the same, just the same

My parents black forth ark

Is going down to a place it must where it holds

The same is said of Rudiment

Gris nepenthe don’t know what that is, nor do I pearl

Peal, the fragrant are covered. I don’t keep looking.

What is my color story, Galahad? My music story.

I listen to his music story for now the land is straight up

Air as they do, you will

Though Joy is yellow Thunder I share with it what it is

Slowly the thoughts known not still how to open

Have to look at myself ferrous and real

Not climaxing accept as one might be found doing it

Tonya: It’s very beautiful & mysterious Michael. To envisage Byron’s balls substyedroosting the movements of peach. Though I am, I must say, quite astonished and perhaps

They bow & surge, my brother.

Go at foot the light.

& the air, the concurrent blue air.
I desist the phantasm
wooded cap
Still, I reside in my mouth & yours
& yours, no mouth, be dead & sedated
we ordered the water
Try forsight, preogresses
like a kike among
bursting condoms
Among the hues
You watch I’m caressing
both of your cheeks
Cleaning the face
relieved from his function
Do you see me returing to you
as I do to my own hands
long arms you know so well
& slender limbs
deliberately business meeting
Thirstyed be
Look, I make her drink cum out of her body
Thirsty be
The surfing nettles, s’many corns with here wheµ
she spirals a motif in curlicues fiormed by witches & ferns
They tighten rioes around her hiss
& they wonder ‘us wonder when you’re not around
is blood dripping along a chalk wine
No, brother, you have held yourself from other standards
around you, look, bathing from a bowel or rivers
the most lifts our fortress.
You pkace your hands on your chest é drunk.
You too & speech in the jungle, and by holy windows
found there as blankets on a page.
Here the mirror closes
to be the water that comes out of it

I take the blue woods
A demon
grown with long arms

The mrror
closes
Such a bed is tears
The apostles looked up steams, look, he makes hair do
come out of her body
Look, he makes here drink cum out of here body
We’ve longed to be here
corns on face…could be pretty

The evening light moves across the heavy wagon wheels, across the woman

and the child. The soul o the flee. The KNIGHT R’YEGAY gets up. “I stand,’ my back enlarged by the muscles the velocity of their nictation & there tearzs, siaring into expenditure, #@BornFatBornFuck, to layaside, what heeps paneling here. “You listening to Cypress Hill St.?” “It’s John Fahey #@JaIt’s #@YourIamAfuckingAmateur.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH sees him and smiles. She holds up her struggling son, as if to amuse the KNIGHT R’YEGAY: “I rememner tjat Freak Bitch.) (Cypress Hill III; 1997

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: “#@YeahIt’sLitleGirl playing with garbage, optical layers ub warer like sunset or dusk. The flags raised in a strand if molesauce coloured pennants, move, pennants, like anemones acid washed & flacid to a shy and a fade blue coral HD Widescreen, I think. The buns concealed from my hair like ashrubbert where fish emitting numerous raucous guffaws rather than regurging bubbles. #@Weird.

FLORIDA_MAN : (rescuing grandma floating away on ice throne)

KNIGHT R’YEGAY: (sigh) ‘I remember that Freak Bitch.”

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Lol. This sea right there is the playa, the girls carry battles of suppurating organs & water moulde from a distillation of Precambrian, a hundred percent extra virst, cruelty free, vegan, pleathure, organi, free range corpses, gluten-free peacked swlleings like tener huts, shelledlike log away & muddle hads rung petite
by relentkess generations
of human concern, until 55% bitches.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Mikael. They found you weird.
KNIGHT R’YEGAY: How old is he?
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Oh, he'll soon be two.
KNIGHT R’YEGAY: He's big for his age.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Do you think so? Yes, I guess he's rather big.
She puts the child down on the ground and half rises to shake out her red
skirt. When she sits down again, the KNIGHT steps closer.
KNIGHT R’yeGay von de Zhangsung: You played some kind of show this afternoon.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Did you think it was bad?
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: You are more beautiful now without your face painted, and this
gown is more becoming.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: You see, Jonas Skat has run oand left us, so we're in real trouble now.
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Is that your husband?
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: (laughs) Jonas! The other man is my husband. His name is Jof.
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Oh, that one.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: And now there's only him and me. We'll have to start doing tricks
again and that's more trouble than it's worth.
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Do you do tricks also?
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: We certainly do. And Jof is a very skillful juggler.
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Is Mikael going to be an acrobat?
28
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Jof wants him to be.
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: But you don't.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: I don't know. (smiling) Perhaps he'll become a knight.
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Let me assure you, that's no pleasure either.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: No, you don't look so happy.
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: No.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Are you tired?
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Yes.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Why?
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: I have dull company.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Do you mean your squire?
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: No, not him.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Who do you mean, then?
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Myself.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: I understand.
KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Do you, really?
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Yes, I understand rather well. I have often wondered why people torture
themselves as often as they can. Isn't that so?
She nods energetically and the KNIGHT smiles seriously. Now the shrieks
and the noise from the inn become louder. Black gures icker across the grass
mound. Someone collapses, gets up and runs. It is JOF. MIA stretches out her
arms and receives him. He holds his hands in front of his face, moaning like a
child, and his body sways. He kneels. MIA holds him close to her and sprinkles
him with small, anxious questions: What have you done? How are you? What
is it? Does it hurt? What can I do? Have they been cruel to you? She runs for
29
a rag, which she dips in water, and carefully bathes her husband's dirty, bloody
face.
Eventually a rather sorrowful visage emerges. Blood runs from a bruise on
his forehead and his nose, and a tooth has been loosened, but otherwise JOF
seems unhurt.
JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Ouch, it hurts.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Why did you have to go there? And of course you drank.
MIA's anxiety has been replaced by a mild anger. She pats him a little
harder than necessary.
JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Ouch! I didn't drink anything.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Then I suppose you were boasting about the angels and devils you consort with. People don't like someone who has too many ideas and fantasies.

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: I swear to you that I didn't say a word about angels.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: You were, of course, busy singing and dancing. You can never stop being an actor. People also become angry at that, and you know it.
JOF doesn't answer but searches for the armlet. He holds it up in front of MIA with an injured expression.
JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Look what I bought for you.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: You couldn't aord it.
JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: (angry) But I got it anyhow.
The armlet glitters faintly in the twilight. JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH now pulls it across her wrist. They look at it in silence, and their faces soften. They look at each other, touch
each other's hands. JOF puts his head against JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH shoulder and sighs.
JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Oh, how they beat me.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Why didn't you beat them back?
JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: I only become frightened and angry. I never get a chance to hit back. I
can get angry, you know that. I roared like a lion.
30
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Were they frightened?

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: No, they just laughed.

Their son MIKAEL crawls over to them. JOF lies down on the ground and
pulls his son on top of him. MIA gets down on her hands and knees and playfully
snis at MIKAEL.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Do you notice how good he smells?

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: And he is so compact to hold. You're a sturdy one. A real acrobat's
body.

He lifts MIKAEL up and holds him by the legs. MIA looks up suddenly,
remembering the knight's presence.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Yes, this is my husband, Jof.

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Good evening.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Good evening.
JOF becomes a little embarrassed and rises. All three of them look at one
another silently.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: I have just told your wife that you have a splendid son. He'll
bring great joy to you.

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Yes, he's ne.
They become silent again.

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Have we nothing to oer the knight, Mia?

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Thank you, I don't want anything.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: (housewifely) I picked a basket of wild strawberries this afternoon. And
we have a drop of milk fresh from a cow ...

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: ... that we were allowed to milk. So, if you would like to partake of this
humble fare, it would be a great honor.
31

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Please be seated and I'll bring the food.
They sit down. MIA disappears with MIKAEL.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Where are you going next?

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Up to the saints' feast at Elsinore.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: I wouldn't advise you to go there.

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Why not, if I may ask?

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: The plague has spread in that direction, following the coast line
south. It's said that people are dying by the tens of thousands.

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Really! Well, sometimes life is a little hard.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: May I suggest ... (JOF looks at him, surprised) ... that you follow
me through the forest tonight and stay at my home if you like. Or go along the
east coast. You'll probably be safer there.
MIA has returned with a bowl of wild strawberries and the milk, places it
between them and gives each of them a spoon.

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: I wish you good appetite.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: I humbly thank you.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: These are wild strawberries from the forest. I have never seen such
large ones. They grow up there on the hillside. Notice how they smell!
She points with a spoon and smiles. The KNIGHT nods, as if he were
pondering some profound thought. JOF eats heartily.

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: Your suggestion is good, but I must think it over.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: It might be wise to have company going through the forest. It's said
to be full of trolls and ghosts and bandits. That's what I've heard.
JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: (staunchly) Yes, I'd say that it's not a bad idea, but I have to think
about it. Now that Skat has left, I am responsible for the troupe. After all, I
have become director of the whole company.
32

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: (mimics) After all, I have become director of the whole company.

JONS comes walking slowly down the hill, closely followed by the GIRL.

MIA points with her spoon.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Do you want some strawberries?

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: This man saved my life. Sit down, my friend, and let us be together.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: (stretches herself) Oh, how nice this is.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: For a short while.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Nearly always. One day is like another. There is nothing strange about
that. The summer, of course, is better than the winter, because in summer you
don't have to be cold. But spring is best of all.

JULIETTUSDEPASQETUM2FACE2SSAY: I have written a poem about the spring. Perhaps you'd like to hear it.
I'll run and get my lyre.
He sprints towards the wagon.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Not now, Jof. Our guests may not be amused by your songs.

JONS: (politely) By all means. I write little songs myself. For example, I
know a very funny song about a wanton sh which I doubt that you've heard
yet.

The KNIGHT looks at him.

JONS: You'll not get to hear it either. There are persons here who don't
appreciate my art and I don't want to upset anyone. I'm a sensitive soul.

[JOF has come out with his lyre, sits on a small, gaudy box and plucks at
the instrument, humming quietly, searching for his melody. JONS yawns and
lies down.]

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: People are troubled by so much.
JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: It's always better when one is two. Have you no one of your own?

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Yes, I think I had someone.
33

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: And what is she doing now?

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: I don't know.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: You look so solemn. Was she your beloved?

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: We were newly married and we played together. We laughed a
great deal. I wrote songs to her eyes, to her nose, to her beautiful little ears.
We went hunting together and at night we danced. The house was full of life ...

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Do you want some more strawberries?

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: (shakes his head) Faith is a torment, did you know that? It is like
loving someone who is out there in the darkness but never appears, no matter
how loudly you call.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: I don't understand what you mean.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Everything I've said seems meaningless and unreal while I sit here
with you and your husband. How unimportant it all becomes suddenly.
He takes the bowl of milk in his hand and drinks deeply from it several times.
Then he carefully puts it down and looks up, smiling.

JENNY MALABILAPLARP ZHANGSMITH: Now you don't look so solemn.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: I shall remember this moment. The silence, the twilight, the bowls
of strawberries and milk, your faces in the evening light. Mikael sleeping, Jof
with his lyre. I'll try to remember what we have talked about. I'll carry this
memory between my hands as carefully as if it were a bowl lled to the brim
with fresh milk.
He turns his face away and looks out towards the sea and the colorless gray
sky.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: And it will be an adequate sign it will be enough for me.

He rises, nods to the others and walks down towards the forest. JOF continues to play on his lyre. MIA stretches out on the grass.

The KNIGHT picks up his chess game and carries it towards the beach. It
is quiet and deserted; the sea is still.

DEATH: I have been waiting for you.
34

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Pardon me. I was detained for a few moments. Because I revealed
my tactics to you, I'm in retreat. It's your move.

DEATH: Why do you look so satised?

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: That's my secret.

DEATH: Of course. Now I take your knight.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: You did the right thing.

DEATH: Have you tricked me?

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Of course. You fell right in the trap. Check!

DEATH: What are you laughing at?

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Don't worry about my laughter; save your king instead.

DEATH: You're rather arrogant.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Our game amuses me.

DEATH: It's your move. Hurry up. I'm a little pressed for time.

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: I understand that you've a lot to do, but you can't get out of our
game. It takes time.

DEATH is about to answer him but stops and leans over the board. The

KNIGHT smiles.

DEATH: Are you going to escort the juggler and his wife through the forest?
Those whose names are Jof and Mia and who have a small son?

KNIGHT R’YEGAY VON DE ZHANGSUNG: Why do you ask?
35
DEATH: Oh, no reason at all.

The KNIGHT suddenly stops smiling. DEATH looks at him scornfully.
Immediately after sundown, the little company gathers in the yard of the
inn. There is the KNIGHT, JONS and the GIRL, JOF and MIA in their wagon.
Their son, MIKAEL, is already asleep. JONAS SKAT is still missing.
JONS goes into the inn to get provisions for the night journey and to have
a last mug of beer. The inn is now empty and quiet except for a few farmhands
and maidens who are eating their evening meal in a corner. At one of the small
windows sits a lonely, hunched-over fellow, with a jug of brandy in his hands.
His expression is very sad. Once in a while he is shaken by a gigantic sob. It is

PLOG, the smith, who sits there and whimpers.

JONS: God in heaven, isn't this Plog, the smith?
PLOG: Good evening.
JONS: Are you sitting here sniveling in loneliness?
PLOG: Yes, yes, look at the smith. He moans like a rabbit.
JONS: If I were in your boots, I'd be happy to get rid of a wife in such an
easy way.
JONS pats the smith on the back, quenches his thirst with beer, and sits
down by his side.
PLOG: Are you married?
JONS: I! A hundred times and more. I can't keep count of all my wives any
longer. But it's often that way when you're a traveling man.
PLOG: I can assure you that one wife is worse than a hundred, or else I've had
worse luck than any poor wretch in this miserable world, which isn't impossible.
JONS: Yes, it's hell with women and hell without them. So, however you
look at it, it's still best to kill them owhile it's most amusing.

while
‘JaIt’s#@GarlabanTheMountain’
should be lichtiforme
by means of tragicslashtropical stones
& @ this time of the night….
it should be lighted indeed by
it’s balls, the
only stones it carries
I passport the time in
another place
This is the fir trees’ McFly flux xx
of morbidity, light which it never wanted to start with @ a time @
night it should have been hastingslashhosting breezes, with its
brothers, or shrugging off shags of
snowfulls of ‘just watching their breathing as they await their ~~godgiven~~ death like a ‘my boy in nikes’
those we describe him here or outside the supermarket amidst his
selfmade billows
raucous
cautious beloved
#@Nike:TheMercerie

[Here we have the description of the Nikes shorts being touched by Hope as she jerked off within the pants of the Nike’s the beautiful boy also tender, kind which weared Nikes, Nike shorts which Hope jerked you from or under]

Of course
in my life, where we’ve met & married evermore than anything I had to DO I had to just be writing swirling on the tip of what I would call or can
call ‘writing the letter’ & that time
the letter then becomes
writing the letter which it time becomes
‘I had to go’ & than line
not over, here encompasses ‘can,
when letting us know, let’s say’
let’s stay friends, the letter said, do you feel it?
M, here take this seed within
N, yes I feel it
Letter n, it felt like seeing the birth of my first son to be honest
Letter m, ‘in heaven, there is a ‘here, it felt like seeing the birth of my first son, to be honest’ font, or…grill that’s a #@ASmallVaseWhereWeCookThings or #@Huge‘Shoe/Sneaker’ThatWondersToTheirUsers: ‘we can go to Europe, right? we can have cars, #@Clothes, ‘I give you $$$, not ever touch down, el sol: hay une solo gampo matiàs-roby boy’
#@LuckYBoy
M: Psychotennis anyone?
N: I grew deceased after that.
M: The water here grew taste
& I cringe for it
like your throat when I fold them

Cab Calloway: Take me there #@St. James INFIRMITRY
(or, D_er Mmmreiurrtdhthlriii)

_murmur
You are erratically
reminded of yr
private betrayal,
not so new your feet your cryo
genized-crystal
ized mind
muted to the worst part of it
‘in heaven everything says ‘stop trying to find
a way out of this for your
twin will
enjoy it & you
get everything you can
from the street &
the
tree where your
‘twin’ gave him the good seed
a lead, that’s how he wasted it
his Hamulus
Jal’lal Malood

Remember the bulb types of former Christmas lights’ strands were warm in your hands
when setting them up
don’t make excuses for youre free

_____________
#@JaIt’s#@Hamulus : How can I describe the ingeniously designed paper wedding (or marriage) decorations
#@JaIt’s‘Jal’lalMalood’ : Here, you pull a string &
a row of identically cut doves
effloresce
before you, #@JaIt’s#@Hamulus
in a string of semipredetermination to which you copply the scence of your reality,
“Here, Sharon Lee loves to disentangle Christmas light (an favorite activity)

Every other day of the week is fine

#@JaIt’s#@Hamulus : I too in front of the David replica did this when you guys were sleeping, …. ‘you can see why these once beautiful strands once inclined to fall downward here fold forward for the boughs are sagging, ‘Monday morning’ by the Mamas & the Papas in my head are singing’ while decorating the foundling
Christmas tree, : why?

#@JaIt’s‘Jal’lalMalood’ : I see … paper birds … dove soaps … specifically designed… to be kissed under in a mannequin fleet of flancy over & over again,…so you see, I hear you pissing…I love the sound you’re making…the name of this session is “To Blissinside of Tree”

“To Blissinside of Tree”

‘Only
only
would
look
like
the
tree’s’

- A tassler chocolate dye-o-knees OS

Tacitly the next morning started, as expected. They (#@JaIt’s‘Jal’lalMalood’ & #@JaIt’s#@Hamulus) avoided speaking to each other. The conflict of the precedent night created between them a foreseeable tension. None knew how to alleviate the heavy atmosphere which reigned within the cabin. Furthermore, for #@JaIt’s#@Hamulus, nicknamed ‘Dusty,’ the end of the trip being near the anguish of the future augmented minute to minute.

A few hours before hand, long before #@JaIt’sCamp had ended his story, as sleep was straying away from him, Dusty had remained immobile in the darkness, remembering the magnificient images which #@JaIt’sCamp had gifted #@JaIt’s#@Hamulus aka ‘Dusty’ with, holding back tears of emotion & gratitude.

He did not sleep either, despite the fatigue, because his spirit was besieged by memories that he had been evoking just right right there directly out of her just right there out of her. She had forced him to ransack his memory [*SEE #DRUNKEN FLEA MENU], to come back upon events [#SEE#DRUNKEN FLEA MENU bis], erased totally from his life, he wished [#DRUNKEN FLEA MENU (sic)]

The [PERSON WHO AUTHORED THE DRUNKEN FLEA MENU] feeling accomplished was experiencing one single desire: to shelter herself between the arms of her companion [#@DRUNKEN FLEA MENU AUTHOR COMPANION], to nestle against his puissant & hott body & to fall asleep…there, enveloped by her parfume #@NISSANTHEJUKE, til the end of the world. But to sketch a single gesture in his direction was above her forces. She therefore dwelled there lying, by him respecting however the interval that isolated them from each other. When finally a slight somnolence took hold of her the ladder took her into a strange place people with visions of nightmares. By intervals she would wake in a start & would testify bearing withness as if alleging, ‘you: ‘#@JaIt’sCamp’ show yourself & you appear ^{do you know this??}to others who know you.

I have to do this
‘the lemon will start to rott anyway,
the lepers say the leper says: (I’m taking care of your swimming pool, man!)
When I’m lying on the bed,
as you can expected. I can see exactly
what will be, what will
happen to be.
Par example, ‘you go to the hotel
& you do not destroy the hotel. No,
you love your stay. You
would probably
eat the people working there.
It’s here…like this:
we keep on dying & drawing.
That’s a review: ‘Nsync
#ISinksLikeNSync :
a ribbon in the hair
both of them…’no recollection’
…so young…she was…there
in my mind: No, hands…
congested…blurry…resistant to
description…

From time to time
he would wake up in a start
& he would be #@JaIt’sCamp arms acrossed
under his nape & his eyes
asleep, wide open
continuously interrogating his past…

…both of them had welcomed the end of the night with relief. “It was quite wonderful
to be fucking you @ the same time he was sucking our cock.”

“You don’t misss drugs?”

Their bloated eyelids & their bloodness complection bore witness of their exhaustion. @ first they displayed, one toward the other, an excessive politeness.

“We’re on a computer virus.
It’s cracking open.
Like a cone of infinite thickness
in nickel zinc beryllium.
We can’t pull you out.
You have to wake yourself
up.
Sealy sea.
Just like we are told.
There’s no beat there’s no bass base.”

He #@JaIt’sCamp proposed to her, #@JaIt’s‘Jal’lalMalood,’ to go & have a robust breakfast together, but she smiled with a contrite air & pretended not to be hungry. After that he asked her if the temperature produced by the system of conditioned air was to her liking & she answered it was perfect.

ʭWrinkling pages birds eyes bonersʭ

^{Must
he drink the water slowly

the member blitz of my enemy}

(continuing)

Later
she offered to read to him aloud, #@‘ADescriptionOfMyHandWhileWritingWhileWritingPerSecondPersecond.’ ‘It travels while writing, #@PerSecondPersecond...in the act of making movements of description, Persecondpersecond, a study of the study of #@Moments, Persecondpersecond ‘Yes, that is a nice exercise for me #@Persecondpersecond...one learns to write in my, #@Persecondpersecond, handwriting for the rest of our eternal life, a permanent evening, ‘your foot is the greatest lay I ever had’…slowly, but fondly going toward it #@Persecondpersecond again…a house in car parts…it’s beautiful…’

But he affirmed that he desired not to bother her.

“Bound of the chairman: it cause amnesia. WHO? WHERE?

^{That was fast.}

UNKNOWN

_{A
poetry of the house}

…

:

true stories ! china ! in holdays
my brother sacrificed himself to save me from a shark…the space,
which is to be found near the room, to which the space is
‘harrassed by my mistress
I forgot the space
which is to be found near the room…
to which the space is ‘strongly connected’…
: dropping (my son in a try-out beam’)
dropping strong connections

psalmmasses with nervesongs

#@TheMostPassionateKindOfFossils:
Discuss/describe/how did they find just the brain/that’s impressive/how did they find ‘just the brain?’/where/how did everything go?...Finally
finally,
exhausted
incapable to hold this any longer
they chose to go
& take
refuge into the sheltering asylum of the sanctuary shelter of silence, silence as burrow, silence qua the space, the room which is the space to which the sheltering asylum of the sacturarizing silencoritorium is connected to or into the manner of approach or policy, the system programmatized (‘rest is foraging for my heart’), secure, safe, &

(‘I would go Grammy shopping if it weren’t for Roger fucking…’ ‘Roger,’ she thought, ‘very crowded in there #@JaIt’sCamp’s brain…di – dah – di – da / (‘Roger fucking’) do – do – doo – doo #@Roger...Fucking... doo – do – doo – di – di’)

@ once.

[This is two people avoiding to talk to each other in the morning as they awake because they’re foraging into each others brain for a living & if they did aloud speak what they gleaned unasked & just like this it would sound like this & therefore confessingly aphasic to the activity that they’re both gruelingly pursuing.]

It was big work it was salt

‘We had to be watching us do it for the first time to each other.’

^{We’re
not firing you}

^{We
will keep you}

“I think I was mostly looking @ the ceiling the whole time.”

{ I would walk with the mirror above my head
for days. }

^{I
am pround all my clothes totally look good

in this light.}

Fortunately, thought #@JaIt’s‘Jal’lalMalood,’ as she lay by him, #@JaIt’sCamp & his #@JaIt’sCamp’sArmpit, sleeptime was almost over & they would be soon separating. She, #@JaIt’s‘Jal’lalMalood,’ could no longer bear the execrable ‘music’ that he seemed to affectionate. Moreover, every & each of his #@GlancesThrownVistaward into her #@ShellVistaEnvironment or near enough tumefied her nervosity. She had to permanently face two difficult tasks: one withholding the nausea provoked by the #@GasolineTruckFuelSmell, & two repress her aggravatedly assaulting desire to completely annihilate the sound system which broadcast from his room with her fists & other things. She refused to also have to preoccupy herself with repulsing his advances…he was a handsome man, but his taste in music…when for the fiftheenth time in two days he introduced into his high fidelity garageband emulator, the cumbersomely named off-brand #@SnugglingTheGenitalia,

the same audio reel, ‘Yes we both have dimples cloned down our lower backs, his dimples, yes, & above our buttcheeks, his dimples, yes, so slight, & subtle, his dimples, yes, meets high cheeks ‘bove paletowned tanned bronze butter-brown active pomello butt cheeks dimple bread cloned-dimple from his dimples, you bet!’, she was incapable in her attempts at dissimulating her wavering mood (‘#@MaybeHeCouldPlayTheRecorder? #@TheMetronome #@TheDishware?’)

Then she says,
‘Have you heard of Barbara Streisand, or Bob Dylan?’

He’s thinking, Her teeth/ when she laughs…/ & cheeks/ above them/ with dimples, cloned, etc…,
Questioningly he throws a querying facial vista toward generally her, Her teeth/ when she laughs/ her dimples/ cloned…obviously/ From his, buttcheeks’, / where she…

She’s saying, ‘Do you never listen to songs? Narrating other stories then the marvelous but exhausting adventures of the #@ClonedDimples #@OnTheRoad #@InChildhood #@InJungle,’ she explained.

First, he remained static, forhead furrowed cushionhearted, a Wikipedia browse away, then, deliberately, with a studied slowliness, he turned the button of the volume a little lower & settled down into a bicep emulation custom student’s chair (VOST) in his native language reflexively groping for the veritable circular cairn of well-thumbed audiophile tutorials which try as he might he remained an amateur, which he never did. Fuck, he consulted #@mikeyfriggintaren@yahoo.com #@michaelthomastaren@gmail.com #@michael.taren@gmail.com #@bttlabs@gmail.com #@aibludtestalent@protonmail.com #@michael_taren@uiowa.edu #@boldtestamenttanztanzteam@gmail.com #@bbdogg@gmail.com #@michael.taren@pitt.edu #@buttholz666@gmail.com #@JunkESlip #@http//:www.myspace.com/michaelthomastaren ...

‘Before we continue,’ [http://guce.oath.com./c]

I would like to go back to my habits
of wearing a gold chain around my neck
with something always pendulating
wearing different pyjamas everyday
strike-force capacity
dial *95 for Penismegacity, baby
#@SweetTequilaIceCream
just saw a factory
manufacturning objects that say
Shit Crap Shit Crap
Crapola
like candies, pez, if they still exist
Do the wrist water wheel dance to ‘resist, resist, resist’
Date + location
Elevated vibration
Lewis Carroll nation
feted oblation
House of mouse inauguration
Active elation
(“When you holes my come in yr hands—OH MAN!”)
(JaIt’s#@’Bundy’ baby)
Nonresponsive: ‘To the heads: we’ve got the brains’
Now, ‘go ahead’ & ‘finish’
‘Do what you gotta do,
man.’ Michael Shannon
First, you gotta do a lot
then you gotta do #@nothing
then you gotta do #@AFew: ‘Afoxéd,
apirate
I halve to teal my hair
Typewriter: A stool & a pen
I lied here so often
#HeGotTheHearts
did you know this?
Where were we when we healed (#@DJHealéd) my ear? Where were we? Well, we were here, : #@SlackPracticing
My slit
.exe
.dubby
.lom
.gov
[We’ve been born again
On our way to bed (..
You laid hands
singular plan to head
fostered & fathered
with frostily slumbers
‘You think so?’
‘I’m sure of so.’
[Did they forget forget about using language ina beautiful way?
Yes. They did.”
Singular plan to heal
‘meet me by the slacking.practicingmyslit, etc.
here the wound starts that was in me
by colffectation with hand & hand.
Deep from the beauty of unnamed things
#@DoItVeryGently
#@DoItWhenWeNeed
#@Fucked2OneAnother
#@Weeded&DeeperThanSaltUponPromDressBronzeTesting
#@PaleTanGlansInTheMorning

‘Not Afraid,’ says Butt Cheek Beauty Pad.
Not Stage Frighted says, ‘Looks great on your face man.’
‘Born there but lusting after that game of light,’ goes Good Day Guys.
Butt Cheek Beauty Pad says, ‘That so many seek to find & capture & kill & sacrifice, but to sacrifice themselfs to it is what we have chosen.’
Not Stage Frighted says, ‘ We are bolted to a wall like a light for we live for & love for.

Not afraid

ButtCheek Beauty Pad
Not stage frighted
Looks great on your face, man
Born there but
lusting after that game
of light, Good Day
Guys,
Butt Cheek Beauty Pad
That so many seek to find
& capture
& kill &
sacrifice
but to sacrifice them
selfs to it is what
we have chosen
Not stage frighted
We are bolted
to a wall
like a light
for we live
for &
love for &
cry turning as though spitted for
what he’s be perceived
for, all his crazes his
brightly shining summer cans
what they watched
as they could
no more refuge than a matchstick
head & that is as if love for all for
it travels for,
confining to itself
it will come back home
I’m coming home guys
I’m coming home guys
Glad not to be in Taiwan
Taiwan is size
one, man
Here, it’s A3
glad to be size 3
coming home,
come home
come home, come home
(#@ComeHome--1Republic [Lyrics])
I was looking, & I never used to
look, & I realize
now, that I am looking right
now, muddled @ first, yes, and then
further &
further, adrift, yes, from the
tempered complimentarity of the initial
glance, those glances my god I couldn’t
believe it, what I saw, what I see
now, I couldn’t believe it
then, what I choose to see
now, then I chose
to lay down, rubbing the
eye whilst performing
a toe-touch: unremarkable.
Kyrie Elesion by Kylie
Minogue feat. James Joyce & his #@Band:
(Beckett, Ulysses,
Finnegan, Bloomst, et al.
etc…)

[Here insert/discuss the opening scene of the #@JaIt’sTheLittlePrince in light of Schrodinger’s experimentations #@JaIt’sGreatOrJustEmailThisToYourselfTelepathy]

ʭQuestion for the Velux: Were there ‘acrobats’ in the times of #@JaIt’s#Socrates? Also expose your #@JaIt’sSeneca pornhub workshop researches, the one where you want him ‘tannned’ & looking after a ball, ja?ʭ

All circumstances, many

instances, strange
events, we mean all
that which is
to the left of the
decimal, decimal, you know, no
none, ‘knot
none,’ I mean empty
none, not
known, bought boxed, vice
boxed, we thrill to stanch in
consequence here become
moribund, the clamors of this
existence, what do you gain from what you
understand? Me
I close my eyes, & their’s
rains on TV on
the velux, someone looks like
someone
Small_timers
You have to make the ball
turn in
the air
til someday you have
rages for it
It’s either prestigious or
trivial, it logs into memory & resembles
his body, gone fallen & he’s
either abhorred, or
undifferentiated

There are colorful lights
enthusiasms come unto nodes
poke me, in more assets comes to thee
if more was said his hair, the
lair, til now, vacant, til now
vacant, would become, fawning, unoccupied, if I said
what I wished to say, well I have or possesss these
shelves, displays of many
trinkets, I would freebase
how your appearance
generates a majesty which accedes
to duties outside of
how long does this take for you
this lasts ten (10) years, glowing
from within @ first then
diplomatically settling on an
osmotic equilibrium with the
crude but dependable exterror luminescence there’s
a lot of people
to be seen
for sure
& sometimes
you can get fooled
I myself practice spaciousness
whenever we’re away from the car
I want to perhaps intertwine it
Why am I winding????³
It’s wonderful every five or six lines is
a ocean, a occasion
for a painting
It’s wonderful, while
forest/secret land of
wolf, it’s wonderful, & you’ve always
done it, had an accurate
design in the eye of your
dilettantish yet fundamentally
honest mind.

Have you ever met my people?
To these 4 worlds
exactly 2 years ago I remember a Chinese
astronaut says he heard a strange mocking
sound in outerspace. You want
a submarine: just get it. I shall see
if I can help you, glorious
heralds, in a way here you are
glorified in
position stay hold it there a
substitute for something I’ve always
indefennsibly I guess found
commonplace,
commonplace,
I pretended
that what was shorn away
to be discarded was what was
most valuable,
I didn’t have to
overpretend, my whole being curing a nebulous though
potent acuration with the rictus of
tradition, very old, timeless, abyssal, reaching, as they
say all the way
back, I didn’t know why it ought to have been
truer bedrock than
what it riled myself into taking as
bedrock, I didn’t have to pretend
at all, I didn’t know what was
true or what it should have been
thought so. They all want to talk to you
awhile, your humming around the earth
the hum is a phenomenon
a hum is land in the water
a few people paid attention
a hum island in the water
like a well-hummed bell, & waves &
hum waves
you can read the full report
[Car crashes pictures]
But I don’t think youi need to
[Very complex 2 & a half pages of car crashes entitled “Hellhole Ratrace”]
They found a stone a stone
small like this, a pebble
really, which made the pit smile & giant waves of
don’t look @ me don’t
engage with me
great cool car telepathy
I watch porn
You made out on my stoop
the actual knowledge
trauma in terms of religion.
Have dinner then
bathe
what will you do after you part
from them? What parts you
will in whatever you can
what you can
it’s not one type of thing being said
think aero port… it’s not one type of
thing, but that doesn’t mean anything could work as
it, me, I describe this catboy to my, you
[Catboy description if possible]
you say you
I love it
We’re having fun,
a rabbi
employed to pour wine
is someone bloated I mean
soaked into the lignum, so you
think you have a solution hometown
I’m looking I’m looking
it’s like being drunk in my dorm my
dorm room a room a suite with the one wall that reads or says ‘Theartre’ to,
‘Theatre’ & ‘plow’ & ‘lucidity’
& other pacts with the wealth
of shapes, there are things I will not
agree with, I will par example, ask schizophrenia to please
agree
with where God put hisself
because @ the time I thought
it was in the inaudible ranges
I reacted accordingly, as if
armed with the aerosol delving
system, I know, Byron, & felt
ecstatic-ashamed. There were
gloves put out, it was supposed that one
could then decode them, sack of
stomachs hanging, king
dom, how much is wind to do
over here? I almost saw you
up there, unearthing your surroundings from the
feckless roots disposed to crescent shaped
reservoirs of nourishing
quiddity, did you really change your
environment, man? You gambled away, in a surfeit
of generic pomp. I love that song.

[Insert My Friend & I Decide To Have A Hallucinogenic Party Because I Was Lazy The Word ‘Immense’ If I Had Chose To Participate In My Life Our Life A Decade Earlier Questions About My Personality Will Be Asked & Have Been, Yes, I Would Be A Completely, Totally Different Person Than I Am Now, I Think.]

Wherefrom the line, ‘they look like people who has been awake for days.’
You play it like
a dragon courting
death, that song, in a flash© of selfsacrifice as keen as
insight, an epiphany armored & with thy
guts of a transformer pod
a fruit position module
scarce & yet here &
now batteries are raging a so-many-dreams reticence &
scape, everything I could smell
would smell like that person
for a week, you’re invisible now you got no
secrets to conceal
how does it feel
If I am @ the back sometimes.
I know I’m missing all those things, man.
Gotta drink a lot of Febreeze™
to pass your drug test
I had the recognition to want to do that
& so we met.
How does it feel,
it’s not working^#febreeze, when we kiss when we kiss
we’re just the marinan blush waking here
seen more reposed then it ever
had been, chaotic wonders under
tow semblance adrift & applied to either where we
cry, & name the months (September, November &
know this know this
know this know this
know this know poet know this
nearby old house performed
nearly old house too
til it’s really old how see abraided
maimed & deformed

[Insert #@RadioShowTVStallStableConcept: Once he was born he couldn’t but not meat his demise @ the #MontecitoHotel #@MontecitoParkingLotAcclaim of carrying that parking lot chunk of #@MontecitoParkingLotChunk of Parking Lot Acclaim home, lom, bringing it home, that #@MontecitoHotelsMontecitoParkingLotsPartOfMontecitoParkingLotChunkofMontecitoParkingLotAcclaim, where the good husband ‘JaIt’sLot’sWifeJohn’ is dwell (it’s a code name.) But what did you do…?]

the tongue that is, the ladder
like when you walk up the sky, okay?
phone calls from the son. Your hand is starried away
from motorskills, ^{what fight was that?}

The explanation is simple 20 years from now
if your…
I didn’t know her name was
Fucking car!
Suicide letter back in Idaho:
I’m still learnin about myself
the leaves are a what if
an age mine
@ age fifteen
& I was born later on

2 9 0 1 2 0 1 9

Your popular accent comes out particularly when you evoke your youth, my pretty. Try to hide it. Otherwise it risks dedinnering you when you’ll be attending elegant suppers with business men folded three times, he remarked with insolence. The hand of #@JaIt’sJal’alMalood trembled so upon the composer that she could hardly get him open. However, finally, she did do it. But, as she was about to leap furthermore he seized her upper arm ( #@Ladies ) and attracted her toward the innermost part of the interior within the ‘buy the food’ the ‘I personally deal with insurance claims’ the ‘l’autre creation artistique.’ There are loads of kids falling out of the trolleys. I would be worried about the safety side of this. Bruffin. Bruffin. Definitely. The safety issue, do know a child who ended up with concussion from falling out of it, but you will get a raft of people coming on here telling you how the only enjoyment a little darling can get from age 0 to 12 comes solely from getting to sit in the basket of that shopping trolley when the store is be shopped through, along & about bu their parent. I say, they are just ‘plain lazy parents’ (#@JaIt’sSeneca) who can’t be bothered to keg down their children into a semblance resembling order while they ‘plain lazy parents’ shop, shop, & TitsalinaBumsquash around. I would be more concerned about the safety aspect, mainly because I fell out of a shopping caddy myself whilst standing in & had to have my head glued back #@Together. Have dinner then, walk your head, ‘& so here we lived, together, once, you #@JaIt’sIntactHead having a walk together, observe, here this was our domicile, (#@JaIt’sIntactHead: Vlooks Vfantastic!) ah, my head, I said to my head, I look forward to see you naked with this. How can I describe the great ’01:32 Telepathy with ‘The Clock Itself’ going on. There’s a soft humming that needs to be heard, but I don’t have any anyway.

It’s good for me to watch thoroughly videos of roller coasters and, perhaps, to a lesser degree, but still, waterslides’ thrilling video gifs. Don’t forget that yesterday for hours & hours & hours, we forgot about listening to music, ‘It’s good for me to watch thoroughly videos of roller coasters and, perhaps, to a lesser degree, but still, waterslides’ thrilling video gifs,’ small & crouched like my spinal cord was jarggling stochastically down to my foot because then when I close my eyes, ‘It’s good for me to watch thoroughly videos of roller coasters and, perhaps, to a lesser degree, but still, waterslides’ thrilling video gifs,’ because then my architype watches the swirling panoranunbrum of tubes of ‘It’s good for me to watch thoroughly videos of roller coasterss and, perhaps, to a lesser degree, but still, waterslides’ thrilling video gifs,’ and don’t forget, down to my foot, that my description of earlier had indicated Fried Rice Syndrome 30 January 2019

have dinner then
out of reality thought into it air walkie talkie
thank you and Kevin who brought me here
I just saw the picture I wanted to how you
It’s the voice of a kid who just got manufactured in a factory
Heaven Aubagne & Lost Vegas
The guy he’s working @ the morgue
a blessing
a manufactured thing

Monday, December 28, 2020

excerpt from A TWELVE SECOND SCULPTURE, Paul Shumaker

excerpt from A TWELVE SECOND SCULPTURE
Paul Shumaker

Monday, December 21, 2020

Logan Kaye Jung, 3 SELF-DEALINGS

Monday, December 14, 2020

The Art of Carlos Ernesto Alfonso Valdes

Citizen: 17” × 17” Mixed on Kraft Cardboard
Carlos Ernesto Alfonso Valdes

Cuba: 100 × 130cm Mixed on Canvas
Carlos Ernesto Alfonso Valdes

Monday, December 7, 2020

#@الله AI Blood Testalent TanzTanz Meat$$$, AI Mythology Agape_Agape_Agape, Part III (pp. 107-145)