the snail with a broken leg, a fall from an obelisk.
the rainboa in the vinegar stratosphere of deep-underground poetry;
if you want to know somebody, live with them;
if you want to know their psychology, read their words.
((((((my heart pumps custard))))))) a poem
hyper, chilling on the veranda, LSD the mentor sublime,
smoking dark energy, drinking bad-manners,
the LSD is engaged, there is a pure seriousness of a kind,
from the veranda came the pulsing percussive voice, on caffeinated napalm.
that mixture of dark energy, bad-manners, LSD,
gave the voice, a philistine squall into the darkness, devoid of earthly dimensions.
the body becomes wild mercury sitting on the reset button of a badly tuned axe,
drug-affirming, hammer-hardened fingers at an incline, the bow strikes the Cello,
the notes, a bottomless pit, flying z upside down, to settle
the schizoid morning from going into a 24/7 cycle;
and yet this Renaissance yelping into obscurity has a mad genius about it.
the showroom fruit stepped up to the microphone,
lunacy again grabbed the axe and began to play, with showroom
fruit at the microphone standing, from her voice, came the greasy distortion
of her eating a b-halibut, and fresh-water mollusc’s, planets orbiting he head, her shoe's ablaze, the
dead turnips with birthday pass, filing into the backyard began to sit down,
swords began to quarrel with themselves,
with one cranking stroke of the bow, came the blowtorch boom, archaic music,
from within the axe, the showroom fruit sang with an Avant-grade hook,
then the feedback, all went through the dead turnips sitting,
slicing the agriculture part of their heads off,
looking like b-monster's, and skewered on the swords, but all resonating
with her deep lunged voice; the snobography of the music began
to lift the roof off the night letting the light, lame in,
"fuck man what century is it?".
(((((this is the poem I've been trying to put up, they all go to some dark corner of deep-underground poetry;))))))
I asked for help to get it out there, but all fell on death tears after I crit their work!
if you want to read a poem read Mable Forrest ((moonrise)))