call me the butthole sailor.
meatloaf television hyperbole
swanprick flutter of illumination& a five
percent inflammation of the eyelids
veined drapery of flesh
encasing an exploding blue seashell shooting out
electric spaghetti entree antennae
tracers off the sparks of a kross
burning black smoke across the front yawn
of an aeolian
abortion clinic.
there
is no technique. i am the american hero,
king grain missile silo incorporated.
we're ads fer abetterworld.
smoke some ice
in the urinal mind of a retired pig
guarding the condom factory
at night filling them with helium's surreal advice,
hoping they clear the great wall of new york shitty.
i phone sex in silver city
postmark hallmark salutations
with sandpaper underwear's indigestible pride.
i am the american poet.
pass me sum a dat dumbass
over there vern.
nutritious and delicious,
sky high with celery fiber verbiage roughage
freckles of embarrassed experience.
call it purple. chef of
apocalyptic cryptic mystical shit,
a duke of the stratosphear
pantheistic potential redeemer
loitering over the steaming idea of nothing
stirring vaguely as tho it were noun.
cayenne rapid bitchdog in heat radiation
glorybee spellings
speaking onto the gymnastium of fingers
into hammocks of heart& mind.
banners stream from the thoughts
as i take a bath or a bong-----mtn bike majesty
titanium penis accessory& the
skin peeled off miz armenia's skull
to reveal a bustling garage sale
of talents to go vangoghs and pi-ca-so-what
guitar locks remain
on passion's ear, a citizen kane
matador of palimpsest
movies on cellophane dreamwrapping
seen thru the eyes of an orphan
seen thru the hallucinated conscience
of a nazi love slave
noxious words of ash, parsley, zoom------
------to the flintstone
chewable quaalude wrongly administered
in suppository sestina form
blocking megarush satori orgasm
realization of self
of nation of emptiness of images of
oral robert's basketball camp's towelboy
slinging sweaty jockstraps
fulla holy dandruff
shakedown of
points shavings. butthole religion.
my god says alot alot.
plywood splinters from the confessional outhouse.
reading this
is just the time the mayor is found stuck in
a latrine, cause he was fooling
with someone's wife.
number one export: trash.
number one food source: each other.
johnson county cannibals
swimming in rhetorical cloud formations
drunk bottles of some god's elixir.
ethereal winter grass
and fresheners doing the opposite,
dayglow redneck hunters stalking
drunk with uzzis on rent
from the baptiste youth center
whose towering cowering framework
snags these very very words o lighting
ben franklin masonic french gnostic dopesmoker
inscriber of our
aeolian skull, factual driftwood of texas, surfer of the
assholes of this unicycle verse
in thru the outdoor
over stupidwaiters
leaping leftovers and emotional
plastic of reality
hyperfart deluxe rolling cart
wheels a deal down the aisles
pulling fourteen year old wives
fulla cans and cannots
&carrots of indiscretion
aerosol douche
peptodismal curlers rotten teeth regurgitate
ciggie smoke filling dryer dome
catscanning the noggin
searching the inner pouch of reproductive
organs of a topaz as it spazzes
into the railing on the teeth of an
advertising broad spread eagle
over the free american
whey the way of high heels
clipboards and yawn furniture.
sit and rest on america today
as buddha gives barbi a blowjob
and gbush serves pork rinds
to the holocaust ghosts.
the toilet overflows
the children are trimmed and square
proper.
fellas in compton are getting mad.
i didn't make the news.
i just read what's up
on the wall.
1989 Lawrence, Ks
for the Butthole Surfers Y Tejas
(shrive. remainder. classic.
believe.)
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