Monday, January 19, 2009

Thud

Worshipers use the leather bells for when so the K's can't hear them. The catch is they have to stay close if they want promotions and propaganda, or risk missing they meal. Once a K swooped and shat like a door stone right in they soup and bit the head off a chal. The news could onee be bra cass in dull thud, so it travel slow.

Flying F-Suit

Awda prees made her a ceremonial parka called a Flying F-Suit. It mocked the fin-like webbed spines rising from the crown of the K cocks and their awkward, remote-control ability to clear ground despite they priusnear chal weight. The winter version of the garment cast a squirrel-like shadow when she'd pass over the rooftops and center stones in the hives or up against the superchanks and their cave holes at sunset. It was a beloved sight, but sometimes worshipers didn't know if it was the Chama or one of her security mannequins. Every year, a dummy is shot down by flakes or caught in one of Mthyuh's middle fingers of flame.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Laf'n Heyl

Peggy roo da lanz
Chama roo da ska.
Peggy got da man
Chama kep d'chal.
Chilun wuna mom
Mama wuna man
Manee tayka bryd
Brydgo offwit Tom.
Tom wurkata skoo
Skoo a doe da heyl
Heyl is fulla birdz'n
Birdz hep telda tayl.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Bitch Come Back

Bitch come back to this hole so's I can fill you.
Witch climb on up da rope that saw you split.
Womachall whai you ack so crazy? You awred
-ee own da lanz. You awredee da ansr to awd
-a prayrz. Do you need mor histry foda books
? Cayncha jus stan nau on yr looks? You sexy
as da goddess of destruction. Youda link betw-
een da en anda beginnin of da wurl. Bitch come
back an fu-fil da profisy anda promis of R love.

Hoolie Discussion Board: Connie's Funny Demise



That time Ted came home and spoke to Connie's cold rotting shell, even tweaked a nipple without noticing her death, was a time when Ted was not conscious and not on a path. Thinking it had been his fault was the beginning. Connie was just a drifter trying to fill her hole, as were many of the foreigners who happened by when the Preservation Society was still in operation. He found he cared for others, though. He had senses of justice priusnear that of a prees. On that night he imagined himself a hideous creature with four arms, two of which should always have held her, no matter what else it was he was doing.

Connie had died because of the miscalculation of the most holy and misguided of deities: Peg. Her recklessness, her carnal nature, her powers are unpredictable. She is ditzy and from her indecision and avarice and folly comes the milk we suck to live.

Connie's pain took her over. She could not lick shiv and be pure for her fugitive mom and also live beyond the pool, the gravitational distress of the beacon. Peggy has a dark pool, and the beacon may be so dim that there is not fire enough to reach her whole. This is how Peggy sacrifice her chilluns without that goal. She holy but a flake.

Peggy's Last Chance



If someone would marry me, I'd come back. I'd take a high cave near Mthyuh with her steam falling across the front holes like curly bangs. Before the grafting my perp and me we'd have a nest of K's right there in the window box and send them out looking for my little ones. The four of us could briefly live as one before taking over each a hill or shivbar. We can pimp each other out as models and spokesmen. We can pose at the oracle for Volca. I would need to come out of my skin and sleep inside his shell at night.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Change in the Practice of the Shiv

Before being issued a work permit, worshipers will
  1. take the Shiv Path test.
  2. answers are filtered into categories
  3. categories into diagnoses
  4. diagnoses into prescriptions
  5. prescriptions into your body
  6. your body unto Mthyuh
  7. Mthyuh gives you life.
  8. Muhalalahalalala Mthyuh

Saturday, January 10, 2009

network overlord



Lights went out in a whole chunk of chanks
at the same tam, and it was such a stunning
sight that Ted completely forgot what he w
-as going to say. The high cave mesmerized
him tho it was not the high cave but everyt-
hing that was not the high cave. Inside, the
atmosphere was highly unstable. There wa-
s rocking. There was trembling, swaying, s-
himmying. There was cunnilingus, cabbage,
crawfish. Doe-oni d's scenes of his people liv
-ing could feed Ted. The deal he'd struck wi
-th Pharmsupply was such an easy price co-
mpared to licking shivplate like a bat for 30
more year. Onee he and the Chama were n
-ow exempt. The others, well, they seemed
happy swarming over bones after Blood Sac
or painting dey bodies wit brightly colored c
-emen' slry or climb fast upandownda ropes.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Inny Tam Nau

Perd'n me, Cap'm, but there's been an event.
To see those chanks rockin would be like wat
-ching the Sears Tower do the hula. We fear
it may be geo-genealogical. Magma or saline
could start coursing from our veins any tam.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

High Perch



In the high caves wind makes the skins flap hard.
You see what's speeding howling across our com-
munity: purple cranes fight a wind make it seem
da ho planet be turning. Da ho chank be rocking.

The clouds drag their curtains of illusion behind.
Up here it's too late to warn a co-worshipper ifd
-ey bout to get attack. So we watch instead the
way they glide, dive, scalp some po flake heyud.

K's fly feeling more dimensions than we can hav
-e without getting sick, six directions to choose,
aiming they K shape way they going. They mot-
or, move by solar, keep goin even wen dey ded.

Monday, January 5, 2009

high perch



she needed to be back where they'd known her all her life
or had helped to pluck her from a teenage primordial soup
and exemplified worshipstyle among the cement turbines.

she squats hideosly now on the chipped cement cave lip of
the highest chank in the Valley, Chukka. Her skin has resp
sponded to the breezes by going blue, and her spines r out.

i came here to Chukka Chank not as a spa trip, which woul
-d be assinine. These are smokin caves with lots of furs an
-d meats, jewel, hypnotic light, stewed game, shiv, curfew.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Weeda Blades

I believe every mother's gay son at this tablehood is a superior being.
Though I may be hard to look at, you know I am the albino slave of t-
he Chama, whom I called her 1000 WD ago Reptily, my black cousin
who have a spiny blue weyub come out her heyud laka brrd machene.

Chama have to chant for food one a day resta her laif but you and i ca-
n taker as a example of a wicked laif but a happy laif become a unhap-
py laif topda crispy cleanan laffa virtue, always dooda chores, confess.
Weeda blades who gots to spread da news abouts huh pains and blues.

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.