Sunday, March 13, 2011


i am the illuminati [hey] - [no analysis] </me>
enjoy your sluggishly progressing schizophrenia /get under the table [bottle]
explicit: i like flippant
explicit: i am born [neck]
in his cock\

Pleasure of command   exist.

regressive whirl-hole in the bathtub

distract, perform the function  clothed, </return key>, “women have </non>….”
8th of…
in the living pool, mid-.
character black X. sits in there
she knows his.
speaks of…
what she can’t
he phantom mimes of girl in
the tree speaks of an cest telephone pole to the…!
and, push the button
as much as long hair

I have a nightmare: what is a family? Is it a colon?

Invisible brother and Invisible cat no longer know longing to the distant lands of lost-to-recollection real, beyond rite “adulthood”  passage to the </tolkien mongol… castles> !

Invisible dead man longs his beard to be white but-what-can-you-do
And instead eats the candy of his desire
To remember to be born is to be old soon. I went [to] there.

teenage ink-pen  around the edges of the eyes and smell of it on your skin in writing, you save paper and trees by –
shutting up their mouths with it
spit and wet, blue lines.
bloodshot distant bodies same-age pedophile.
You exist in the between space of actualized & dream-on - pipe – clit -.
the negative fuckholed by my physical body:
rather than reminiscing to remove the vulnerabilities of youth, transposed glued-on past-on “invincibilities” of the generation that won’t leave me alone
and fucks you with Mall-wooden-peace-symbols.

speaking to the character X, to grab you by that inside where the chemical is made to keep you from die-anemic, feed-you, heat-you, warm-you -  I love you but don’t you have a husband? Its rather the house that in dreams I fly out of and her eyes glass –like-
I knew she reads poetry in her negative-copy adolescence in the land where the numbers of the 20th century read backwards.
We’re out of order, say the characters… and “to” is all out of ordinance…  - meaning of the future and capillaries in your facial muscles, your eyes green with - I can only deal with one sobbing - - -  in my life, screaming babies, who for decades sat only in
In the sunny country, the prison sits cheerful, the non-existent “little” character screams into the burning eco-terrorism based narratives so that one day –
…And this is where I carry his cum back to Seattle, which was meant for Argentina, my [body] ass clothed in the airplane,
until in America I startle and put my hands up to my face,
in the continent-sized mile long streets of the family home,
the walls white, tall, peaceful,
like a movie made for one who listens
– chips – hardwood – Safeway select “fat people food”
Dear masters of the household,
…essentially signifying money, money comes from the cocks of…… Ooozes, flows freely like [dead]children’s laughter, giggling down the escalators and cresting all the waves! The bohemian business of the invincibles of    <non!> melanin   manhood   & Romance! 
ask any prostitute, which is where my grand tour… wherever it is… you picture in your history books!
of course he cried so much… they        cried so much… that all [architecture] [cities] [hardwood] became real again, & the forces the economy & the vulnerability of…
and the
non-chosen anti-matter of [this place]
re-placed by
one more… shot of… brain of… ludicrous facial muscles… become-the-Internet’s-female! so you can have the – drag the mouses over the clicker!
turned into europe, with me, finally as dead old man in the sky,
character x died when wrote long thing in red pen to…  tradition is to be dehumanized fully.
(character x mysterious amalgamation shadow brother of fully human fully -out, menstruation rounded in-),
To Your culture,
sick with worry
I will announce I will be an artist or a doctor
                                                                    , only.
“open discord and dishonor” full cup of coffee, despicable human with mouth open, lips fat like genitals nose sniffing life … obviously trying to be something … trapped by … dirty Mesopotamian riddles of schoolrooms corporal punishment mushroom-trips calculated by the mushroom trips by the economy … and my. … your … unknowable arms and s\
In the stigma I turn to less than human, not a woman to them not a child now, to the world. living in my body that is not good enough to instantaneously porn-star 18 years old, I turn into an old woman fleeing from the old man, my lips become drug store chemicals, I stand green tea and
…to make an armadillo do data-entry, a tiger riding a tricycle

[history] is –
my grandmother who was an Egyptian before she was born became disowned, an anarchist married a skinhead
remembered the passage through the birth canal and thus taught another infant how to
yelled at me for the _entire_ _twentieth_ _century_ until we could make clear, finally, that I was not Lenin

Not to analyze: debrief from  childhood     adults oh poor… [no] whining… in the real world… when you go to college… I have 5 years…I have 3 years… I have 9 months to get a job… when I am 18… I can’t live… until then, stop whining… everybody in this classroom, your parents would do anything… until then,
Note: all the big people’s tears & tantrums & power of semen, food & money. “mother”. “men”. beauty is:
semen is money
is food
is computers
is street signs
traffic exhaust is homelessness; is the legality of being struck, imprisoned is [non] [youth] [non] [lib] [non] [history]is [her fear] [history] [is why her tears her arms her inappropriate behind clothed doors away from the american teacher who asks if I am abused] or [retarded] [she] is character x because character x is character x and nobody wants to hear – the inky teenage daydreams, glamourous in nekobus – you don’t want to hear my dirty Slavic [fairytale] [stereotype] –

money is erotic and medical fecal matter in your brains and bodily functions, it enters through your mouth and holds numbers, hanging, on the long division, computerized cybernetic functions in your wetware, your semen spits life-blood at her face; pleasure is the re-assurance between the class systems. money is the toilet-bedroom-birthing room of the world, we all pass the wet sticky stuff between our hands, dirty like cocaine, to deal with it directly is obscene, they dress for the deed, a code name of body parts jiggling sanitized and glistening, titillating to appeal    to appeal to the senses, erotic value like value. every baby is born with a stamp on its head – to sell its head is to educate – obrazovization to the future – an obscene feeding of the shit through its mouth and out, if the feeding is obscene – a code of erotic values – erotic is math – erotic is programming – biochemistry – sexy – harvard – sexy – to love is given value – it’s dirty to deal with houses – to mathematically put on me a guilt – measure my owing – there is displaced envy – once more, erotic, fiscal killings [to elaborate – sexy, but tainted – what is more is what is desired is the love that is not money – what we all desire]– coded calculated fiction – the earth is given a name “mother” – this is given a value – the woman’s worth is semen which is her food – and baby which is her investment – she works, perhaps as an accountant – in a [civilized] country – she, perhaps is overgrown – among [the uncivilized] a bearable disgrace – or a neutral entity, a man, unworking, thus unmuscular – to alcohol or etc. is the world without money – disgraceful – without reality – which is real erotic reality – not to show your cock – not to   not have one – escape but escape killing the mind with mathematics – I come from the [uncivilized] – I am [uncivilized][as I am to them – a complete savage, an animal][and to you, too – poorly acculturated – badly mannered][and I mix my poor understanding of them – needed to survive –with my poor understanding of you] - something if understood by the child, it’s erotic value – the body becomes an in-out factory – touch is treacherous if the system supports your annihilation – if the system is understood inculcated early to be the “system” – systematic – therefore, to escape – escape becomes imaginary if the language doesn’t allow it – to tell them the language does not allow it itself imaginary if you as a speaker don’t properly exist, and do not properly speak – “the child speaks of______” –
-enter through another dimension. They generally fuck your brain, become the new imaginary, as away from reality as a child, painfully idealistic as an adolescent, as far-sightedly sentimental as an elder. away from it all you enter a hermitude. now you are really on the other side of time. money is on your face and in your mouth as food. to move around becomes as impossible as before but more so, now that the rules have become clear. before it was society that dictated where you stand with each other and gave you the context for your inaction, now it has to be you.

i am the disowned non-existence of;
a dirty symbol
foreign [architectural character spaces] writings
a house too delicate to be entered,
to freedom of the obeisance, shame, a constant, stimuli of mathematical, even non-fiscal… the unread, the unseen, the unlived
hinges on fulfillment of the final…
In the presence of the father, the child speaks of the rose,
In the presence of the rose, the doors close and the windows against
 [For the dead, flowers. For the young, the soil. Paradoxically every freedom hinges on fulfillment of… ]
For the out-of-doors, the shopping cart.  For the indoors, flowers.
linguistically [white poetry] translations of mathematics, economic systems, of garden gravesites Ecological teenage daydreams Roadstop to the future: i am the dead to the dead.

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