Friday, June 28, 2013

22 KINDS OF A KIND OF CLIMAX OF DISTINCTION










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(1)Fracture, Polatta, écossaise---------------à (2) Here, once again, at Month’s End, you Rendezvous in your own Dissolution, in which, Insidiously, I Arisen. (3) And then that Matter of Intimacy, Meaning: I’m Usurped by the Removal, its Lack and its Layered, yet Limpid Context.  (4) And the Sun-Setting, as if, Waving Good-Bye, for itself: a Precious Jewel. (5) The Way the Temperature unexpectedly Rises, bringing the sweatslum of Summer, the Sun, the Achilles Rupture, and the Ensuing Jiggled Blood-Pressure. (6) A Sentence I Wrote Yesterday: is akin to howreling in a High-Cranial doze. (7) A kind of Derelict City and Repeat after Me: “I Ain’t even 25 Pages in this Shit…” (8) And this is why I no longer Write anything which Extends beyond Footnotes, Trappings, Nips and Flicks of the Wrist is this. (9)  I was Overcome with a Momentary Eagerness to Consider what you have done with your Life.  (10) Tucked, Squeezed and Dragged my Dick Home, between Cheeks and Bad Knees on these Streets.  (11) Nothing like a Pigeon’s Ass Solidly Behind you to get you Wanking, ---------------àEh, Hein Armsy~?  (12) Pleasure is a Purely Temporary Artifice and rather Mundane, Ordinary even; Thus: why should I Get-Up to its Throes of Illusion, when I know that Pleasure comes in Disguises and is Rarely recognized at the Time or Appreciated~? (13) I am in the Doghouse of my Competitor, Attempting to Pass a Kernel for the Past 3 Days.  (14) Stopped just off Lawrence to Photograph a new Construction.  (15) How to make a Picture in Writing of a Thing (your Ass) that isn’t a Pussified Discursive Avoidance (that Milkly Mane) of the Ass itself, when one could just Kneel, bury the Nose and Eat~? (16) A Tendency to Bloviate my Looks into Clarity (and then Slowly back out of the Stare of the mirror).  (17) The only Bullshit I ever Loved was Mine which was Divine. (18) What we used to call a “thumper”. (19) Oh, Don’t Mind Me: I’m just Brimming (Over) with a Simple Satisfaction. (20) The Guttural Laugh that Begins in the Gut and Extends the Width of a Spine. (21) I Stomach what I can Stomach and then Whisk-Off to the South. (22) And Let’s Not Forget Now: the Lurch of Sadness that Precedes my Vehicle’s Wild and Abandoned Acceleration.