Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Like a Crane

You in the shivplate bazaars
walking doubled over becuz
administration does not indi
-cate bending the knees or a
llowing much to creep into t-
he esophagus. Ever more bi-
rds and promises, so little ha
ppiness in our land. Talking b
-ack and forth looking at one
another's socks. Licking. Talk
-ing. Licking. Smiling. It's so
painful. The birds are shams.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Lick More Shivplate

i think the goal is not nothing
; the goal is a little something
added beyond what's natural.
to sweeten a cup of tea or for

-n even, she goes beyond into
a realm of sacred non-reason
where only a god can set you
free. then she form changes.

peggy is a woman and more,
but as a woman, she is most
-ly ecstatic. this helped her t
-o subversively participate i-

n a Flounce commercial. if yo
-u read her lips, there was a
special message. You hear "F
-louncy baby," see "Pharma.

Phorn me, Pharma." she use
-es her natural carnal lawles
-sness to make a very spirit-
ual point: lick more shivplate.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Cementula

you wore gloves when you examined my penis;
donna would've used her skin to touch. you see
-m to have nose with me, while sympathy; you
think that i will fit my own description in the DS
-M. donna openly admires me, butch. even as s-
he soothes my pain. she knows that i am an irre
producible copy of a ficticious male in the indust
-rial magazine of the highway trade: Cementula.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

The Craw

Chamatilly warm up the room:

Nau, yall come to me and you know which ones, who you are, every day i see ya cumup t'me nau, yu cumonup t'me nau and yu sez:

Chama, Chama I tellya i wanna, wanna
an i say y'don't hafta hafta, cuz the way
the rose grows chillun, what's the word
I'm after? Mozis. MOzis. Mozis. When t
-he rain hit da barn anda elemental hitd
-a ethereal farm that the misunderconc-
luzhuns begin to happen, happen. The c-
ment duss be mixing witda offrins an in-
sence and pity pie? is wenda sky start t'
open, open. Can it fly, they wanid t'no. C
-an it take to d'winan leave dem chiluns
behine, and of course you and I can say
cuz we livd to see the day when her life b
-ecame a way, chile... for every woman n
-au, every lady grrl lovin b'be womachal.
We know the sun went down and it stay
-ed that way for a wal. Mo longa than a h
-dred day, boyz. Ahm swe'in bullets whe
-en I try to tell you bout the tam when t-
he heavens met the seas but because no
one believed, baby oh yes: it didn't happ-
en. So when I tell you that by Peggy, she
, that monogram of womanhood in a form
-fitting and pressed uniform, except a re-
al doctor? It was inspiring to everyone. M
ost of all, Rick: who has given his life a nu
mber of times up to her, and finally, all up
in her. They say there is an "eschew"; so-
me call it "The Craw," where one day you
will come out. No, not born again, but real
-ly uglier. It will be another chance at life
for you, but with much more pain from sc
-ars that look as if you had thrown yours-
elf into a live volcano. Oh, wait-- I forgot.
You did throw yourself into a live volcano.

The entire congregation was standing and
applauding, even as they stooped to wipe
their tears on a co-worshipper's shoulder.

It was something came out during Volca years before, and they let her keep telling it now, as if she had earned tenure or had passed a rite of gases and would no longer have to suffer by torture but rather, now, and she preferred it, the torture borne of being a major source of pain for others, and beyond the pleasure of that, the building and maturing ability to self flaggelate and blood manage with no supervision. Because Illyn had taken it upon hiself to self-feed the Mthyuh, he had now lost any sort of nose terror over the Chama. She had always known and had been planning, at some level, his return and her rightful slow retribution: the collection of his debt to her being Top Bitch: he forced her to be moral by feeding drugs intraveneously that gave her a conscience, then convinced her to be true to her lying and theiving background. It made her stronger, but it had not created loving between them.

They Did this To Her

Even if it was Donna, it wasn't Donna.
No one could have snapped like that.
Dr. Thong is professional, pretty, pr-
etty professional, and professionally
pretty. That was some thug parading
through my tale impersonating Dr. T-
hong. Donna Thong is caring and slim.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Albino Slave Sport a Red Afro

Chamatilly old slave Ilyn who legend say went over the edge in Volca, somehow he return. Chamatilly think about covering her ears so her brains don't sputter bloody out, think about that and roll her head around and screech, but instead she just weep in he lap.

"Illyn you my slave always and always come back cuz i own you till i die not till you die." Reptily

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Doctorate of Cement

It oozes everywhere in these parts. Dr. of Cement Thong stands over there in plaid with her stomach out, an obvious department chair, fat cigar stub in her mouth. She's got some kind of racing tickets for a charity for victims of racing. She's all, "We'll take you: your bitch against my bitch." Then she sit back pickin hard spots offer pants while the grrlz go at it. Like a slingshot snapping, she'd thrown over her natural loving care for men to a feminist battleground mentality, bombs literally bursting overhead. In the meantime, cement moved but moved glacially imperceptibly through the valley, God's vicious cycle.

"There is always more, yet only one of each of us, and we are being ground chilluns all up in it." Hoolie

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

distruck-shone

To the mother vol-
cano, there is no hu-
nting; the food kill
itself and jump in
your mouth. Are
you in? Now that we
have centuries of da-
ta we find we're rare-
ly wrong. We want no-
t only to record but al-
so guide the
metamorphosis of yor
distruck-shone.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

You Pick up Whatever's Handy

you pick up whatever's handy
when yor flingin wurds luvins.
something might could be sha
-rp or heavy nufta knock meo
my chilluns out. Why'n cha try
canny-o chahklut nestime boi.

time doesn't

time doesn't time isn't
it's the clock that clock
that moves. time does
-n't time isn't it's the c
-lock that moves. time
doesn't time isn't it's t-
he clock that moves. t-
ime doesn't time isn't i
-t's the clock that mov
-es. cclock that moves.

Friday, December 5, 2008

All-Male Gay Nude Hemp Farmers

Gol, just a little fire drill, and everyone's
groverling before gods and murdering th
-eir firstbornz. Grow up, collective. We t-
he dults now. We pragmatic inda face uh
storms: dey moths 2 flame. Mud, the sa-
-me. Clouds of arrows, solar radiation, b-
rothers save the nation on they two feet.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

She Fell for This

to come across an ex-stripper, gal of any age,
is to find, while drinking, a ruby in your soup.
to run into an exotic dancer when he's boy no
longer? Neat pile of tobacco on a stack of wat-
ermarked parchments deeds contracts notes.
For you to go to the place where you're ass m
-ust save your ass's life: one phone call away.

Amanecer de Mi Tierra

Entre los libros y embutidos
en la mesa de mi corazon,tia
tu eres mi luz eterna y mi a-
mante lesbiana. Tu: trapo fu
-erte pero como seda a la ve
-z, llevame mujer a nuestra
promesa de oportunidad. ba
-tate los labios aqui en pleno
cielo; que produzcas vomitos
de pasion, morbo, y sentidos.

Horrible Violent Shithole

"Chang K. Chang Chank Jr. High is a horrible, violent shithole," by Hoolie

Butt come to find
it's really towers
of shit. And oh so
brutal! I longed f
-or the world of a
-dults to rescue m
-e in its shady ar-
m. Meanwall, chi-
cks in white lipst-
ick scratched and
kicked and verba
-lly assaulted and
exposed themself
indecently to me.

Parallel Universe

Craving is a heartthrob;
beating is a song.
Crying from the stomach,
eating needs a job.

Work is contribution;
off'ring is a prayer.
Begging as forgiveness,
indulgence is to fear.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

manolo y lesley

Yr mind fkn finds ways ok?
If da Pharmsupply go south
an Tedsda only one witta jo-
b, you come here you stay,
hey, who-dat inna poo? Wa-
i, dat ol manolo n lesley an d
-ey jus fabulous chall! u brin
-g yr sleeping bag, cuz we th
-ink you fabulous too cuzzin!

Sunday, November 30, 2008

hot and bright

hoolie's light is its own long day
boy make an average face grey;
so quick to his feet to fight or s-
eed. Hoolie on a hi white horse,
hoolie in a scramble on a steed;
boy make da glint in steel seem
damp; boy lug a whyt-hot lamp.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Dare Ye t'Come Fwd

if we could only have some beer and sing once a week, all together, not in a church
we might still get red in the face and colon cancer and divorce or throw up silver,
but there we'd be on a Frydee's eve with a steaming kidney pie and a pint of spittle.

mod child

mod child, you blame yorself
mod child, yor daisy frowns
mod child, yor invested in color
mod child, what a large belt buckle
mod child, you wear a Sears medallion
mod child, even domestic violence is mod
everything you do mod child
could be on a color tv or in space
you could be reduced to black and white dots
why can't others feel the love that you want
[and freeze]

Monday, November 24, 2008

Burnt Issue

Studies show that patriarchy was invented by women in order to give their husbands something to do peace time and to stay on track even while out plundering. Sure, mono-theism asks you to choose a parent. But which one is it? The Mthyuh while fathyuh lead a crusade? Is busy passing you thru her living tissue, chall. Yor rostrum is forged in her loin and you are her tanline. She is the hive plugger while males drone. Another commandment written on the human soul, however: that one sex is not enough. Any one gender will get cruel heady. So their worship must be binary to reap of it a nirvanic system. But since they suffer, one set of genitals in your face always. They reject a parent out of fear for security. Toss the soprano; keep the pit bull. He can't sing anyway, and she's a total bitch to those who might threaten our famly. Mthyuh: piquant going in and picaresque coming out.

BANDERILLERO

everything is, everything's so, everything is so uncertain
the blocks are akiltern; baby lizards can run out through
the cracks to play. No one to owe yor money to, but now-
here to get away. life is so upside down now lady, can you
even recognize me, yor slave? they forced a guy to strap
on horns in the ring and then banderilla'd him to a forty-
year loan. it's a W. D. when, to the bees, it's we who sting.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Naughty Somalians

When the hooded one arrives on his apple cart, steps down with a naked scythe?
When sudden death occurs there is a strong initial shock, and then healing begins. A major illness will extend the period of strong exposure and be more likely to create permanent collateral damage. Beyond length of exposure, intensity can fluctuate and climb, stressing out a worshiper's innermost marrow.

Are there any interactions or serious side effects?
Illnesses that provoke secondary expressions of violence, scatology or other dementia deepen the horror, widen the suck of the spinning drain of death. When multiple careers of morbidity overlap, especially in a close social network, death can stomp up and down, a sticking period key, a repeating decimal of dead.

Why do they keep them so long, and wouldn't it be more merciful to kill them immediately?
Well, the fact is that if push came to shove and we'd have to admit it, we kinda like having them around for as long as we can. It's like sitting on yr balls. We grow accustomed to their valiant little defiances; their quirky pronouncements and curses; their cute, spirited jabs from the sidelines. We know how under-it-all dependent they really are on our goodwill, and that makes us fuzzy.

What is your view on the abolition of Blood Sac?
It seems to keep people calm, especially the young mothers for some reason. Nobody needs to say a word, as long as we know it's happening and we can go to see for ourselves whenever we want. In fact, I hear they've been poorly attended of late. Sure, the opposition pretty much gave up after they couldn't get a retraction on the Sac they did on that what was her oh Chang K. Chang. That was because she was such a beloved living maiden that for her to "only milk Mthyuh in hell always" indicated selfishness on the part of the Preservation Society and maybe even envy slippin out some of the high preistesses while we know that's just potty. It's a controversy of the past, certainly. Today's worshiper is just bored with it. It may eventually be won by the inane above humane, as they say. It's all about cultural stewardship for me, and that's what I've shown you crossing over. I say get in my boat and I'll take you there and now here we are. Now there's someone can bring you on to the next big bend.

Tom
CEO, Pharmsupply
A Year to Another Year

Windy Mouth of Mthyuh

Looking into her, there is mostly paste of fog, not her breath. Her steam/ perspiration. There are legends that explain all that. Then over to the right is Shame of Mthyuh, where her "spittle" is released in an ever-humbling reminder of her own giddy stupor of imminence. This is a noxious mix of sulfur and molten aluminum. But then towering above, as balance, or ballast, are the famous Pride of Mthyuh, the t-chanks. They really seem to say, "I'm all that." And if you don't think so, howbouda dubba-berra? Others have posited that these chanks, like their many cousins in the region, are really the petrified guano towers of now-extinct salty lake queen cranes or monarcas d'ensalago. The last known queen was shot near the Nevada border after her dizzyingly metallic sheen and spirited aggressiveness became part of a 1950's ufo mixup.

These hovel-hived hills building gradually to reveal the truly terrifying gape of the Mthyuh Centre site are so full of history and tradition, which has almost always been a tradition of history, that history itself seems to have left its proverbial wheel ruts in the winding, postcard rack-lined stone walks. Surely the movements of these, each speckled warm litter, scarcely more than temporary stewards of this obscene rendering, by nature, of nature's own truth and who have long since been ground themselves to dust by her avenues, having taken the tinjid waters from baptismal to dethbed spongebath-- are as real now as time itself, if not more. If not more.

Hoolie Discussion Board: Hoolie Now



They go Hoolie talk again like a hymnal, some kind of Judis speaking as a pree-so holy fathyuh. He think he immortal an fit to be keen someday soon. Look like a baboon with his nipples showing drinking out of coconuts chall. What he thinkin? We all know, all the chilluns know, the bitches know, the boys know that he is trapped as the son of a holy permanently outshining shivstar. He will never be anything at all, or he will be something humble. Let's see which he choose.

Yet Nor is Oxygen Carried (Momen Foda Jung Kits)

when gender switches to the subconscious,
food coloring bleeds upside down up a cele-
ry stalk, but for a few crucial moments the
-re is acheived a rift: in that junk hitting y-
ur reason'n lorls, yet nor is oxygen carried.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

The Brutal Snake Charmer

The brutal snake charmer's wife made out a shopping list:

craving
craving w/ anger
fear @night
holding breath
burning shame
tense
shame
resolve
shame
surrender
sadness
sleepy
morbid ideation
headache
craving

They danced while he scared everyone to death.

Another white woman came here, face of trajedy. I tell you I take yor trajedy an jor watch, Reptilly say. They leave der loved ones feed of Mthyuh, come back down alone, one less. They wander up a street looking for food with a credit card. They step from a cab in big sunglasses, being strong.

He sons are stammering slaves. Only she can run him. Now she become a deity and leave him broken selling hairs from her brush as souvenier.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

It's not Sustainable, Grrl [The WMV]

Too complicated getting sound files to stick; here's a video you can just listen to, chall.



fourteen months oughta be a monument to something baby
you cant juss say you gonna go and quit on me now womachal
y'got two kids and it seems like yor gonna hava nervous breakdown
corporations callin ona telephone tryna makeyuh pay yo dues nau
cantcha stick witme tellwe figure ifwe gonna go brakeda banko fo-cloes

misery
and growing old
withoutchu woma i cd layme downan close my eyes dontchu see-e?
youma co-D penna docta lady fo-a cobra vacci-ine.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

ponies with hats


It's not Sustainable, Grrl

fourteen months oughta be a monument to something baby
you cant juss say you gonna go and quit on me now womachal
y'got two kids and it seems like yor gonna hava nervous breakdown
corporations callin ona telephone tryna makeyuh pay yo dues nau
cantcha stick witme tellwe figure ifwe gonna go brakeda banko fo-cloes

misery
and growing old
withoutchu woma i cd layme downan close my eyes dontchu see-e?
youma co-D penna docta lady fo-a cobra vacci-ine.

Donna Thong, Donna Thong.
Doctor Donna, Doctor Thong.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Meadows and Shores


The city is entry slurry, coming in through airborne pockets or crossing land like a miserable red ant.
These peoples are processed here and sent in tubes to the bucolic-sounding lands, if ever.
They are sort of filtered through stoney brookside meadows and rolling pinewood greens.
Through glen or forestlake river valley, there are additional meadows and shores.
Finally, experience death or assimilation into desert religious sects.
We beg the greening of a septic vision, and we find daisies crawling screaming from each straw end.

--anonymous bullcrap

Juniper Dreams of Being an Urban Human

Bread and meat with gravy over it is all you need. Thick ground black pepper or even the powder in a tornado from a stainless and glass shaker, deep-fried pork tenderloin and crispy cottage fries with lots of smooth creamy brown gravy on mashed can get you make you stare at the cashier on the phone while yor waiting or corner-eyeing the street crowd in the picture winda at yor booth. Someone could pound on the glass or squat and pee there without being noticed much. All you care to care about right now is your ice water and napkin. You dive into the crunchy mess when it comes with both hands and all of your attention. It's treating both sides of your brain to the attitude of a chef who can hate staying these long hours and make you insultingly decent chow like what, you can't do this at home? You chew and think how you want to come back again and again and will tip the waitress well, for every decade another dollar, and she dresses more like a movie star. You picture the manager and a pig and a frier, the cook and the freezer supplier in an internecine sqabble that ends in feasting and gobbling crunchy globs of hot, greasy snow.

OX



Silently, Babe the Blue Ox stands painted blue,
wrinkles of rippled paintovers. I knew a sales-
lady like that in the Loop, Bunny. Her perfume
smelled like brownies, and her brownies smelled
like perfume. Babe saw no one like her, if she had
been alive, passing by for 30, 60 years. These w-
ere wholesome meaning not urban families. The-
yd already had a good dinner at home and show-
ed up from less than a day's drive away, or wer-
e from some other town where they could get t-
he same and had taken advantage of one of the
typical family-owned road cafes. Babe had noth-
ing to do with advertising meat, no more than P
-aul, anyway. There was no mostly frozen steak
restraunt there at their feet-- only a parking l-
ot and a big antique cage. This was a turist spot
where one could pick ones teeth with pine trees.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Already Dead

This, then, is the tomb of granite and
stainless steel I signed up for with my
Sears card. At 33%, I find the televis-
ion is less distracting on a higher volu
-me since I don't have to strain to he-
ar between the product chanting. I fin
-d my favorite shows don't even requ
-ire video and I can listen while not m
-opping floors or working out. This is
my way to spin, only my fingers mov
-ing to speak, and even then reluctan
-tly. I can do impressions of the anno
uncers. My dogs don't chime in, but t-
-hey are kind enough. Sometimes, I'll
peer over the screen at the front win-
dow. so many insincerities on the air-
waves. i flop back and forth in betwe-
en vigilance and. my whole brain is c-
hecked out, except for that part that a
-llows me to speak. When yor ded, go-
ing to sleep seem like a challish game.

dull leather bell

yung wombmate, yu must forgive me
for i contact you only once on a manic
mission, once eighty fortnights. when
i come up for air, i scream back thru t
-he ages, and there you are, the same
flowered grrl. sometimes i have not e-
ven grown a year since i saw you ther
-e. only layers of shame and emprison
-ment blanket me from your hair and
flowing skirts and love, which i also h-
ave memories of in nearly half a cent-
ury slogging toward a dull leather bell.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

MO-TOWN UBER ALLES

Ted'd followed some man who'd already ditched him to a communist rally in the dead of 1980 winter Detroit. Jammed in a boxy downtown gymnasium, he watched a hairy gal on a platform rant and rave until he felt he needed a drink. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOUR CREDENTIALS?" he screamed.

The speaker, stunned, actually answered. "Why, I am JoAnne Studebaker and I am the Director General of the WSBI GMC [Greater Motor City]. It was clear they were all under three feet of snow, it was crowded and warm, no one was getting out until the thing was at an end, and even then at risk of trampling or fros-titty. During the blizzardy 8-hour trans-industrial tour from Mai-Kaina in an unheated car, Peggy found she could break off a hunk of her freshly shampooed hair like a fibrous herbal popsicle.

Later that night in a Group Apartment full of filing cabinets and armoirs, one or two Workers or Students with a blanket, a Mexican poncho or a polyester sleeping bag were situated roughly parallel, every few feet, as in a slave ship or graveyard. There was no smell of marijuana or drink, just lesbian tea.

Ted always felt they had been sent by someone, possibly Comrade Studebaker herself. They came and settled next to him easily after everyone had quieted down and the lights had been dimmed, as before a naked photo-op. He'd been granted a wide perimeter.

He felt their thudding behind him on the bare wood floor through the nylon that wrapped his clothes that sheathed his body, and there were sickly goosebumps on his back. They seemed to be slithering in and out of one another's sack. Then there were wet clicking and smacking noises, strange aggressive giggling.

The proverbial Sventlana and Judith had really shown him who was in charge of that political landscape. All the guests at the crash pad were polite and hushed. It occurred to Ted that these maybe were just spoiled ivy league kids with a denim and bandana fetish.

Peggy and he her own twin brother had still never met. Even in the womb they had been a hot throbbing membrane apart, jus' two pieces o' pie from the same automat, ass to ass.

Where was she nau? Where was she when he needed her not only to be but to be there and not only to be there but to be a woman?

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Man Claims Hindu God Appeared In Plant Form



Man Claims Hindu God Appeared in Plant Form

Morning Edition, October 23, 2008 · A New York City man is convinced the elephant-headed Hindu god Ganesh appeared to him in his backyard as a purple flower.

The 4-foot-tall plant sprouted up between concrete slabs in Sam Lal's yard in Queens. He says the plant began to resemble an elephant's head and trunk. Lal, a Hindu, told the New York Daily News that the plant has healed his back pain.

"They say God comes in many forms. I figure this has taken the form of a plant to come into my yard and bless me," he said.

Yor a Real Woman Hooze Godlike

i say yor better than a deity only because
your a hero to me, realy, and in fact yora
real woman hooze godlike. Yor dignity and
grace in pain is a sign of yor jawbreaking s
-oul. Yor grace in pain is a sign u are bold.

the cheesy milk hags of a baby's unbaptized cravings



Now these bitches take up huge branches in the architecture of our minds and even reach somehow into the visceral, archetypal regions. They reign as they reek across centuries. They are the cheesy milk hags of a baby's unbaptized cravings; later, you can't see the future at all, and you can only even imagine it if you are looking into their widened pupils in the dark. They will nip at your calves until you use them for good. They beseech yor best impulse of the loin. They chatter their teeth as if to murmer or mock yor jaw wagging. These stinky girls with big butts can only offer you tongueloads of saliva and to fill yor gut. What if there were two!

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Guide me Ho-ma

guide me home woman
guide me to prayer-o

wenna wirl-o manso stron
ma-needa woma company.

walk me thru this bigole
neighborhood, fo-I go grrl.

gai me hom-a nau woma
stop an pray-yay witme.

then we can catch a show
or lounge about ata bar-o.

guide me home woman
gai me to pray-yayer-o.

Monday, October 20, 2008

All about the Chilluns

The Sacrament of Blood was a loving rite, and everyone agreed about that cep f'the po muthya fo who they end up serving your kids for deena. It draws us together at this lean time of year and reassures us about our values: s'really all about the chilluns, idnit? We a famly, and this is a way i can give back to them every year. They hongry. We share in the joy and the bounty with all of our favorite neighbors and family members. Our co-worshippers. You allow us to see ourselves in God's own perpective: those who are not you. So, Hoolie: we congratulate you for this honor we are about to feed you on behalf of da Mthyah. She is soothed in your pain. We will sing along to it so you know that we are with you. That our love is with you, Hoolima. Ho-Hoolima, hoo-loo-loo-li-li-ma-ma.

1 hour. hoolie screaming
1 moment. steel blades sliding
baby crying
crowds erupting, cutlry
place settings slammed down
like an uptown diner, echo;
some famly members
understandibly disconsolate
in the counseling chamber.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Waste Box




What he'd wanted to convey folded all up in on itself like a credit security, a dimly glowering cardboard box.

Only Problem is they Torture You

Peggy held one wrist with the other hand to steady the shakiness. Every movement weight shift was a conscious embracing of searing, crippling pain. She could only smile if she remembered that in WD066, she had been cut off by a shopping box at the shivmart and wished just a fraction of her pain on the infractor. The pusher, a large man, died almost immediately with agonies. They made a cement pill for Mthyuh of him.

Peggy have incennive as well as desire. She got to go, go on. For one, she always itchy down there. Peggy like, "This is bullshit. Gemme a man down here." She only wanna drink and fuck. But she a deity, and so it goes, you gotta suave it on your streetcorner crew, take personal interviews, not too many speeches, live in a graciousness safely above the minimum mark for a milk slave of Mthyuh.

Ceremonies. That the main job of a milkuh. And they caint be cynical cuz when you do-- ooo watch it grrlz. You must believe it baby or you suffer so bad. You wouldn't burden your own family with dangerous knowledge, rational doubts, so why do that to yourself either. Under pressure, you'll have no idea, you won't be a fink. Only problem is they torture you.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Sinewy [the Mp3]

sinewy

sinewy bitch prad chal!

I Heart Peggy [the Mp3]

I Heart Peggy [the Mp3]

I Heart Peggy


peggy i always new you were mai fren
because you left your kids, two of them
to seek after spiritual enlightenment, you
know? fuck them! because you knew that
their pain
would carry them back. their pain would
carry them, carry them into yor arms again.

faiwere on my det bed
i dlet you guide me
I do anything you say

you, woman, are from a-
nother wurl, and i cannot
fine you less i take yr wor

you can santify me woma
only you can see me thrua
horra show, when ahm touch-an-go

She Gotta Bigole Heyud

Wachit grrls! She gotta bigole heyud.
an she gonna licki. She piss her own
daughter' beyud. Grrowl, piss, licki,
spread, she a bitchona water beyud,
were whichit could git sticky, freyun.

Gedditfaidit [the Mp3]

Pulled by the MPS.

Gedditfaidit

you try to get a little exercise
we put a liddle uh in the walk, babi
we no longa walk across town or up
and down and up the staircase of the
big city laif we chillin in suburbs in
the lakeside or fireside or rurl-militry
industrial chal, we got the firey crops
and jetting blue studs with their gleeming
sex appeal and rubber and steel, we got
greens and beets and subtle kill, beef,
cockatiel and swan, sparrows, cranes,
ptero-dactyls, reefer, guano, beans and
elevators, but only for grain, escalators
that feed poisons and metal to your brain
through every cavity we got the mill but it
aint for gaining strenth, if you get ill
you can try to catch yer breath waiting in
line with the wretched millions bleating to
break free from whut, mexico, bulgaria,
illinois and Pee, Wisconsin. we gotchur
brefass rolled up ina puffed up corn tor-
tilla ana cyanide wafer, movie stars in
hum vees an lemonade vests ducking into
the trailer half the day traina rest wal
da extras stay out na heat practicing they
no lines at all, practicing being: in lines,
not having: lines but just standing, extra-
like ina shadow of a trailer, not evena
trash-level environment by Mercan standers.

Chamatilly Begin da Volca

songs are prayers;
prayers are shit;
shit is gold;
what of it?

oaths are prayers;
prayers are bold;
cowards lie,
or so we're told.

God is dumb;
Dumb is loud;
Can love speak
In a crowd?

Push is shove;
God's above;
or if he's nuts,
fire will bless us.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Sinewy

Folks that surround Chamatilly, they all seem to know what she don't know. She a toe-cher awda tam. She's thinking it all part of the ceremonies and whatnot. It ain't. They just a laikit, laikit alot. Tor-cher Chamatilly. Thats why she so lucki. Being a shivstar, we wershup you chama, you biggie awda tam. Chamatilly aways in pain because she so ignorant. The Muthya Preservation Society even know boudit. The Community College of Cement know. The chilluns an the bitches know. It's a secret a bit from the Chama, but not so much. She so scared cuz she never thot she deserve a be a deity or a slave to da shiv, on the spot to milk the Mthyuh at the momen notice. She half 2B prepare, ahways. So she ahways givin up da ego to da shiv and thats so paynfl cuz she nothin much modan ego and sinewy bitch prad chal. She so fight it so she cn geddit, fighdit, geddit, etc.