deepundergroundpoetry.com

~ what mother didn't Know did not kill her....she merely died a plainly human death ~

little buy little thy irri
tants in'form a port'ion
of(only)thisthathee'other -
an aut-o-matique
� � writing
betrays the fright of
pulchritude in the
low'lying sub
psyche gurgle d'ferment,or
was it
there to foment a stringthing,
a neck'lace-like metapho' wrapt
'do
mino theory'clickclickclick(dominusVobiscum)
rhythm of rites for wasting time somuch
time
pissd'way in ritual pure suits cassocks robes,
make a peekybooboo wit God's Unerring Cock hiding+
sweating'skin kept dark for don't-look seeing & such
chickenchoke me'at[s] for
�thee tasting of thee Host � � �\

never question yOur own'ly Honesty......tis
as chaste for/of/in pure(suit)
as any of these fiction[al]soliloquies we ponder to think
up
on
over & again in thee name of Real,really,
[&,of'course,reality]

no,no,no, I-do-not wish nor want to Know what yr'mother said,
as I willnot
betray my(&mighty) ignorance of what My Very Own Mother
could've, but didn't say. to save Us from the misery that
makes 'me' what
We Are

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