Lockup
an elderly frau, sat on edge, a salle d’attente, trilled
my heart will go on, by celine dion. ineptly averted
eyes. access to chorused, “near far,” wherever you
are, it was inner belted, to 4th kind, as watched the
fifth element. polarised after 5th view, with added
near nudity, as high-tech ingenu, tuned-in query, at
puerile moratorium. as picasso’s, queen of cubist
stretch, eva gouel was diagnosed with tubercular
chills, and drew out, extramaritals, as if always in
deceitful lines. by sentinelle, his german sheperd,
a nationalist breed of choice, during wwI’s turbts.
40 years younger than he, gilot known the decade-
long, and situated herself, in modernist, as la femme
fleur. as he was five foot three, girls not able to resist
his stare, as richman sing’s “pablo picasso was never
called an asshole, not in new york.” the song derived
in some, as how a goffin’s cockatoo, to bias cardboard,
or, what ailing person would set up, let alone drive, a
citroen picasso, with plates crug66y, shuddered at how
outmatched, as mused, bettered by a letter, breaking ice,
if there is, viking flags invented, seditionist harken backs.
she pondered of king tang of shang’s had 94 ice men, who
aided to make, when a rice and milk mixture, packed and
frozen in snow. king of england, purported to offer his chef,
£500, to keep a secret, from rest of england, to her discomfit
a strain of bacteria, called listeria, can go multiplied, smellied.
she relished, apart looks clean, giant plinko, select lotterys and
barrel sauna, with aroma of arbor vitae, blasted added water,
during use, on my apple decorative stalk and silver mini bell,
called eevee and meowth, as motherese, when she recoiled, at
a website, bearing broth’s caption, “fraud alert,” to told of a
white quiff, of tim blank’s, easy to spot, when he said, she
as not about anything, a workhorse, as had 158 pencils, as
how many grooves routed, to drawn on dad’s carpal, as a
loose, romulan ship, as he said to take off, bronze blaze, as
not at his hip height, undue brush at my girl style qipao’s.
dismissed, as waste high winches, a black plastic bastille.
Thin Air
is it true drupaudi’s hair was blue and curled, blue lotuses
proceeded full 2 miles away. to blue bath water and briny
bubble beard, an ode to herzog’s phantom de nache, can
you imagine enduring centuries. polidori in gothic lit, to
mary shelley wrote frankenstein, in a match on laudanum,
by replica of napoleon’s coach. his waterloo used carriage,
a tricolored silk flag, morning gown, stowaged sword belt.
to treadswift tactical, blueforce gear as coat’s loaded port
cuts, back bored barrel, for gray ghost 20 gauge shot gun
by milan garnet. diverted type o negative’s her soul done
medium well. knelt by two sides blue microcheck dress
shirt, i wore stria of red nectar of achiote cutting. loose
velvet leggings pulled from my legs, palely shaved as
mentioned poppadum, in mood-filled room’s two bose
speakers at broke people, what’s up with that, by m.i.a’s
deft rhythms’ confronting with transnational hardships.
she ill favored the na’s expandable affinal networks, as
visits, mainly covertly, either sex has multiple partners.
sat by slatted blinds, brushed external auricle to sides of
neck of sibling. mildly as if incest joke, deformingly at
slithers be-toupeed warhorses. when i did mom-and-dad
polaroid, pictured her free-associating close-kept sense,
bella goth somaticization, next toa hello kitty vibrator.
text said tribune, jim warren’s monster fan club, 1962
