Stop the ethos and nod

The scrambles and brambles in my head
dip down in the dip. Both of them drip.
Like fire on all not already quite like fire.
Have profound if you think so,
you get to go eureka before found—
before continuing swing dick again—
to disarm you let me slip in
you as the adder will, you see—
the very creep of revulsion is
not being free otherwise no creep—
a tornado maybe crept inside.
The house is all fucked up.
A googol of clutter sighing—
bring it on, destroy my sight.
See me the million as I see one.
Filthy old aged like the baby snow
cracked beneath as it should be.
Get it or both of us happen to go.
My house is all wood sliced down
as it should be, for no oak
nor cherry should rule a brained thing.
Brained by angry monkey sitting on
its own fatty stomach that hangs
like the black man. How he hangs
organising his cells—there is fuel,
slurp of fetuses to maul—
they do not cry because they—
they do eat, incommunication,
you’ll stick friends your contempt
into all the lobes you keep
so close they cannot be near—
have that, then, we will eat cake
as the story goes and goes gory—
got it just now yet the mumble
that happens to speak only what is
when suckling, think what thinkers will—
I happen to understand and think queen
and never will breed—despise guilt—
it is correct for us together but the alone me—
there a fiend, there the scene—
skinny and muddy meandering feet—
I will repeat, I get it, in others repeat—
got to stop don’t you?—the not you—
make one or try to dangling there
evil feet simply attempt and I dare—
meow grey cat or freeze for mother—
winter will not despite me compliment—
I do, I say I do to cocaine,
bite like the ignorant puppy my nose—
nosing in acid, do never be quiet.
Today I seemed to have fell apart.
I matched together knowing sure.
No option, listen cunt can—
seeing a hostage what we are
to beauty as it smashes in
the face you and I reader we share—
ask why so easy to worship
the brains dying some?—
I am simply not available—
even I knew reader your eyes
as they crossed, tell I lie?—
cannot when reduced as this
is what words dilute to—
as always, can still see you—
doubt as doubters will—fine—
well when you are near murder
and the victim smiles, do you rage?—
can do nothing but so much
things to say all everyone and talk—
my arms taunt digits, legs arachnids,
tails posed haunting as the scorpion
in the back shudder who shudders
like breathing old monsters bare.
Dingaling. The flare yards hold
bristles into my screeching head
and they can call neither nothing—
every nub is a knife so sheened—
who cut this down, my kids down?—
the city was named Sodom
but was not half of Sodom the city—
pardon I cannot slug you with words,
I know how good that is, like the drudge—
want to be slugged yet it’s insides—
without exception, and you are younger
than the near-dead too, disagree?—
I am fucking speaking to you—
cutting with a scythe my Gibraltars?
And they too must crumble, must.

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~ by Jeremy on May 18, 2011.

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