Wednesday, 23 March 2011

Dildine

Lets fall back to Earth thieves
Where to belong Jelly rolls
Waxing strange dragging soil
Hunted power parasites
To troops of numbers switching
Cold and sharking quails of
Curses shy bites agree to
Abort us from brain traffic
.
My hunger roams but can cease like a
machine Clumsy holiday tides of spacial
errors Light beams holy wash half sharp
of everywhere As sure as sphynxing off
palpitate far so often Before beginning
floating fingers moose our bath Enter return
Cant crowd me when I sleep I am all dayed out
.
Carefully chemicular drift
From Earth rhythms quaking
Cellectious through my outsides
Hexing creatures cloud me
While I furl flocks of spells
Plant a sour phantom
Healthy blighths spring from
Jaunted elemental omens
.
My hunger roams but can cease like a
machine Clumsy holiday tides of spacial
errors Light beams holy wash half sharp
of everywhere As sure as sphynxing off
palpitate far so often Before beginning
floating fingers moose our bath Enter return
Cant crowd me when I sleep I am all dayed out

Wet Bandit

Skin blazed things and delicious proceedings
Stripes of waiting respires aftersmoke
The wraith of cake thickly translating dirge

Stay still whilst worm muses suspicion
Nova gnar farms out stoney scales of softness
Head hours rifting the roots of twin limbs
Veer gruff always thumping out moon trash

Raw shadows field me with acution
Cat acting disturbed fickles the best of depths
Slings of lips snarling-fraught snoozes

Flurries of omnivores roast their zennith
My cilia conjures up an appetite
Marsupials gimp me back to oxidized

Stay still whilst worm muses suspicion
Nova gnar farms out stoney scales of softness
Head hours rifting the roots of twin limbs
Veer gruff always thumping oitout moon trash

Impotent impulses island my thistle
Purposeful hallucinations so many cats
Bloody when born-now newly demurred

Skin blazed things and delicious proceedings
Stripes of waiting respires after smoke
The wraith of cake thickly translating dirge

Is an illusion is an illusion
The low is real but the breeze
Is an illusion