Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Ice Saw

Messed up night
while I was Lil
the moan was turnip-red
I saw a stack in the sky
shatter down
pumping down on my ham
I looped around, I saw eyes
shaking freaks
there was a dog
I could see
I saw a file
I saw Paul, yeah
I saw ice
I heard the wolves
Anna's whole whirl
I saw Mario
I saw diamonds

Monday, June 8, 2015


It's in the shelves
you can keep
the ghosts

Get back in bed, Merv
She immediately
charged that age

It's not-very
scientific Nerf
You wanna talk science?

The last harvest for okra
through the gears

Get a basket

There are already
circles in the cops
Spielbergian cliffs
the drone on the lips
of my vision

O God swirled my trackpad
LA mission control in John Cena's arse
the Sun cooked his brain

the score is controlling this
the teeth
of McConaughey

So that was

We got Tom's scores back
You heard knives that forgot Willie Howell?
Someone nude everyday?
A nutseuse?

Every last one of 'em
You didn't expect
this dirt
You could pay for a live dream
You consist of about 1:30

Everyone still wears hats in the future
You'd hate Farmer Dad
Grandpa Seth
I don't like artforms

You're traveling through space here on land, too
It's a brutal sound
Just bass and creaking boards

His back burly
His back again, His back is turned
His coordinates

He is Orpheus with the harp of the maths
and it's this car-ride that's igniting her fervor
she's sleeping through

The light splits the light and it's spectral

Monday, November 10, 2014

Well I'm Called Heaven

Taking some time with my quiet freighter
I'm baking some plants
I'm waiting in the clearing with my motor oil

Music of a bug above my head
Give me my red shirt today
Let me contemplate the president's soda
Guide me through the donut of the soul

I want to know when Frank will leave
Every day I want chocolate
I want to be cold syrup
To get down in your soap

I went by a criminal's name
I can do any one thing
Let me purify my boats
Let me be just worthy to chew something

You Drink With the Frogman

Experience the long cord
In a dream where the context is visible
In the sea that I beat back for you
Every artifact is true
The light always seen in your gear
You're a freak, my dear
I love your soup
In experience you know every whale

Lift your cellphone
You've got to open up your armor
Baby I have all your dirt
You get the epipen you need
There's a way and a mystic moat
There's no other place to pee
You gotta dance insane
I saw us standing within reach
You love you have so many trunks
And, Shorty, all your dirt


Henhouse a young boy
back in an orange field
used to look out my plaster window

Breathe it down till you’re a stomach too
Lie in a rager in the nighttime

Blow the warm feeling
Like a child with a computer
In the sappy side
Your felt-man with devotion
In a haze of my emotion

Monday, February 24, 2014


we’re the bad place
when the hash-meat comes through
I ain’t the fortune you want
now singing this song

I know that boring wagon
you gnaw some good
let it steam my heart

a year hiccup
headachin’ for a potty
he took my frame
my scumbag life
people sap their drones
hold on
stuck in low 
Diane Keaton

Monday, December 23, 2013

The More

I love the Marine
loving you

I love the Marine
then I love you

I don't want to be a Marine
you can

It wouldn't have any meaning
I looked in the weeds
and in the blue
and it startin' to seem
I loved me a Marine
and I thought

Wednesday, December 11, 2013


from a different knee
want a Brave
belly Carl
body braille
Temple prayer
a bed of me
a Paul

a money bagel
a shadow glow
a final kale
a buyer's sleigh

I play you for keeps
think about it from my Secret Santa
a grundle-rest

keep it cuddling
good luck having those nachos
go to bed to roll the keys
keep it rolling MVP
touch the deed on my Infiniti

You farted in-between us

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Tyoyeu, it's been a while

I'm thinkin'
 of surfin'

I know this is a tan-line
anything got sharp
I always try to sway spirits coded in the fire
tears of the wave
to fray

Anything braided through the night
everything that's bathed in light
everything you are
two ways

Friday, July 5, 2013

Banana Form

All I’m allergic from toasters are nerdy applique say the shame so easy to love so weird sweltering heat and revels a telephone that rips the ghost that you clean you capsize your future so easy to love

You Used to Call Me

I half-believe that you’re a god in the presence of God now that you’ve gone back to Texas you left the fog with the dark I’m half on my own I got butt-moss coming you’ve turned the table zone you used to call me applause but apple picking over and over just like savored beef

Somehow This

Into the moon a bummer east of the Saab a humongous stork wept in a mood the moon east of me they hurt me in the summer I really could care I hurt somebody, mister please adore me when I looked the mood had turned you moan and linger like a hawk and the vines like a mother’s glass observatory I fondle their emotions like a peacock the pill of the flock pass despair over me you’re cold to my hand with a smile the tops of hating and I’m saying this compromise has no goats you’re cold to my hand

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Jape Awl

God in the gardens
zebra the cousin
hail to the pasta
lob the ramen

I involved all my niece and cousin
I involved all my need

Caramel and honey stole my thunder
they say I made a hawk of men
I had to get a helmet in her
they say you could cook my smile
I had a community of lack

They sat the more I try
I’m around to your heart

Why don’t you give me a Josh
and I’ll give you lives if you do
for Brody’s turn I’m erect
you know I love flogging, you do
you know now usually

could almost melt in the mountain of property

a lock of me
everything I doodle

my milky room

I commit to get stanky

a filet mignon ride
a cup more of tea
one nice scent
when it comes to hard bake
let me kneed it

the briar bits 
in Soho
100,000 watches away

Monday, October 29, 2012

Barry Passions

We've been idle with a strong
wind to justify us
the kitchen opened
right into it
every time we tried to sweep
we would be still
technological female
their uncommon mortality
led the league in 1986
Artie hung himself
can't stop yet
suppose we shorten
pamphlets from planned parenthood
the considerable shadow
for these admittedly physical pleasures
of the immediate wilderness
I'm the only one here
in the past
Israel's continual hunger
silvering its plain
and then the other
troubles ruined his rookie
as they enter the ale-house
a minute; two; then five
and then I came
ended in championship
of faith
and dynamite could not be trifled with.

Friday, July 20, 2012

I went back to Barbados

with rain in my hair and my mouth has a seam a long way out Barbados is big and my rain will be south I went on with a sable the sweet birds who whistle I know we don’t lie

Friday, June 22, 2012

Seven Fucking Toppings by Lyndsey Cohen

“I only need two”
I mean what?
holy shit!
how many toppings could you want on a pizza?!
I can’t even think of seven things I would want on a pizza at the same time!
that’s like every topping they offer!
that was the weirdest way to answer the phone!
That was his response
and he didn’t even tell me how long it would be
he didn’t

Friday, June 8, 2012

Blood Quotes

Call my baby’s number in a quarry

Close your eyes, let them fart

Water made the speedway

They want to stab it

A dark, loud horizon

Gotta get her feet off

To buy that big old something in the air
Dreidel of the skull

I’m gonna be a twister of love

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

6:40 in the Nation

I never eat supper and I need a break

I know I shoved your beef before I leaked

I believe we can never make it soon

Everything happy becomes light

On the Road With My Soda

And my shield, yeah right

Press an ode to the new day

This love will surely last four ways

In the valley I see horseman power

It’s a PG gathering in your soul

Accused of truth and apathy
Of speaking out for free dentures

They said it’s Capricorn out

There’s a belly on truth

Tough Levels

That was funny but we both knew what was missing on it

When you’re a lawn, you’re a lawn
You and nothing but a lawn

And Diana was gone

You’re crawling like a baby-battler

Honey Warlock

Type a new mask

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Gold Fish Boat

Caught the frog in your mind

Care to stop?

Caught in the paws of your mind


What will it take for man to beam me home?

I’m not promoting the head-wrecker

On and off the robe

The gauze don’t make it true
I don’t believe in most people

Snot rock and roll

Sides of the soggy
Scum of the Lord

Betrayal you and me

I don’t have to hit record
I don’t have to


Let’s see the blue moon

Well, you get married
Ringing on the same old gong

Joe likes switching on an electric like

It’s blue all around the pets

It feels so lucky

Things stop blinking
And you get so lucky

Someone like you combs a lawn


You can hold something so much you don’t know it

Everyone’s gonna know when I box Drexler out


They’re off to Beantown

Get away from the city
It’s gonna bring you doubt

Call me like a river

Let’s get it straight from the star

What people believe with the head and the heart

Pasta’s singing songs to you
Soft and blue

When you’re in the forest
Just enough to magnetize the leaves

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Nietzschean Hiss

It’s so fat I’m not seeing it
Just like it’s under steak

Who everyone fought
The man I used to be

I saw it just hanging on a wall

I’m not the person in a moat

On the stand
I left our night-child behind

I met the person in the moat

We’re strong with this picture
When don’t we take it down?


If you don’t know how to deal with your sail
If your donut half dive bomb Market St.

Grownups sing and play for you
Which is what they’re supposed to do


The wire I’m working with you
It can get so sick and mental

A kippah with it all



You try to think
There’s something wrong with you

Sarah, I got my name in lights


When we were slip-and-sliding in the shade

You looked very pissed that night

I felt like a wonder-lamb


String City

Existential Drip

Solid Jew

Some of my friends think that I’m really pissed

Friday, April 20, 2012

I Set My Compass, Oh

I got glitter in my butt.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Breathing Down Your Door

it's scary to think of
the Malone

poodles in my heart

you shouldn't need
another raisin

a whore's shampoo

I just about
reached my
pinnacle of fear

a breaded hornet

I was giving
you mead

fingers and bloody

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

it's like a Ouija board
of lunch

it's eyeball time

bacon, crazy, in the
rubble room

a coral maze

I'm between meats

I ate every drop

I went from shirts
to sunglasses because
I felt like it

Friday, March 30, 2012

You Belong To Snackin'

you belong to snackin' on my booty
you're such a man-boy mex
looks like it's gonna be prawns outside
she won't even turn around and smell my blood
he said it was his buttocks
it feels scary
it's started
a good 10-15
solid american minutes

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Chains of Winter

I'm going to light a
forest fire under them


by the panty-load

lost in an oscillating

Monday, March 26, 2012

Gross Ghosts

it raisins the

she had AIDS + chills

a cash horde

moist rebels

fixin' Mom's economy

rosemary cologne oil

jeans around his dick

burning Fiat

linin' up to haunt

Monday, March 19, 2012

War Frat

Blow smoke wheat
A mountain
We can’t ache
Circuits are
Just leaving
Shadow of the news
Love me and lose
I got a text and have
been sleeping

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

it was a 486, and then it was a Pentium

out of hallways
Pano's will

you made a pig's ear

you made a rude steak
lyin' in the weather

that just opened me up for another dumpling

he has two nutella's there
projectiles through your Saturday

where would you be jizzing into your chin?

trapped on the radio
on a rugela basis
the brie attempt

I'm in a turkey situation

two is a couple; three is a napkin carnivale

Thursday, February 23, 2012

It cracks off your

that crying eye

Nintendo dances

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Oh-yeah nipple-time

smell of the quail from across the street
god on my nose
ivory carolers with a broader nose
bought fire on the strength of a miner
oh, science is up on top
went to laminate the Paris-Kwanzaa on a shelf
I cleaned an infant on a saddle
I culled liquor from a ladle
I went blowin’ sexy phones
I won’t be cleanin' windows
I see you when my loaf grows
Son, the scallion went into my gi 
I read my Christmas Humphries
Earl, I’ll take my Talmud
I’m workin’ my lemon prime

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

On a Megaphone

When I woke
your God
might be hard to handle
like a flavor burns
but can it be a flame

If you pull them all together
oh hell I can’t explain
where where were you
I can laugh in the face
I’ll never be the same
oh that sleep force should be over
by now I know

Saturday, December 31, 2011

Go until you stop

O having
Is it real


She's a plane
Yell me everything I need

Your rainbow
In an enemy electric life

Burn it up around a campfire
Let me feel the saw

Maybe I can feel you
That's enough

Crazy Luck

I can hear her harpe
When I come to a head
And I like her feet
Kiss her
Hug her tie
In a maybe home

Marvelous Knife

Up above in your ice
All of these kites

In all the nights
In all the songs

In a trireme to the place
In all the soft moon

With a you
With a you

Get it Myself

Half a mouth
A silver crown
A hex against the fence

Hope-a-dope rain
He looked all alone
Hey there you are

Friday, December 30, 2011

Pigtails and Tragic Fear

Out on the leaving
If I’m a pool I’ll be a pool
Then I’m the captain of America
Thailand I’m the captain of America
Happy ever after with the comet gone
I’ll put my cake down on you
Kiss on a lick
Your cake was taken from me
All I have is it
Your face
Your luck
Your treat
I’m writing for the Parve sailor
We’ll bet my kids
Got no friends in ink
No plans I’ve managed to keep


Is it you or just
A brim in the skies

I saw something tucked in shame
I try so hard
I just can’t sleep

Tell me who I seem
I walk this world in where

I don’t trust my stare
You play the loving walk

We should have the altar
Where your heart looked twice

Moss in the big darkness
God have mercy on the man
Who doesn’t eat your dust

Sitting on a Little Stool

Hands made of ticket smiles
I can feel the sauce still
Robert Bly singing
My wife in a farmhouse
Hindu this tunnel
Groom of shadows
Simple and nuts
Hand meets woman
Just a ton of old love


Rain on the telephone
Here in her boat till the morning
Wiped out the dishes
Take the moaning and make it

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

What's Your Dungeon?

I cut a living

I can't husband
the ground

Monday, December 19, 2011

Ugh, My Love

All night long

Oh the sound

Search my sword

I should search in my very sword

My fairy sword

I shouldn’t search in my very sword

Inside of me

Memphis risk

My tears have flown

Hella my tears like water

All my tears that whine

All about this that

Wordy lion

In sadder me

That’s not that’s not

‘Tudey lion

Side of meat

Wet from Denmark

All for a brand new start

Now for a brand new start

Off a brand new start

Oh years


Hefty wheel slang
We waft down the avenue okay
In the style
In wheat’s mouth
In a whole worthwhile

Yes yes yes
Yes it’s this





When your year of music’s ringing
And the fever in your heart
We cave from the backstreet

Summer red dress
And all the risks


I can’t stand myself

We gonna placate the violin

I didn’t know
I just got home from a gate
I saw you standing on the sea
I just want you on this windowsill here
I want you to come on in behind this story
I want you to just move on up on this letterbox
I’m just a little pig now
If you just open up a little bit
Come on in

We don’t stay up all night long
A miracle run across a field
You know how it feels

Gonna stare out all night long

Now we wheeze home a little bit
Dig this
And the healing
And the keeling

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

It’s the house I had with Sally

when the
wings penetrate sandwiched
lunch and buttered wine.
IF I had Sally I would definitely
be there but it feels like Sally’s
ride took just her a wee bit
too deep! Whoops goes the baker’s
wheat-all dinosaur bread.
Say “Howdy, Rabbi” when Rabbi Ha’Udi
comes around; say, how’d you love
some dark ribeye with that thousand
island thing in halibut breadcrumb coulis?
Can I even oven that with cheese-curds, Rabbi?
Can old batter-Abe’s Biscuit-n-flapjacks-n-andouille
even evaporate the sauce-God’s jowls?

To Her Gesture's Smile

Get in the way she smacks
I’m sure you see that soup
You did not need my air
Your cloud lacquer
Rock surgeon masks
Snatch your love this time
I want it back you
Your face I swear
I was never that way
Did you think I knew you were bored
You would laugh and cry at a single sow
Devil stadium and the policemen with all these eyes
Ass so proud you broke it on the beach
I caressed your cheese


wheeled in love
pooped in his spokes
the roadside, a tent
the angel’s tie
precious paint
the interstate’s chode
fine, I’ll win
into the source
in the train a brow
against the weather
often the distance
the marble
a naked fear
the angel’s bone

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

a little seder that you set
high, a brie

texted to you now
for your health

I used the nail file 
and blew up

and the weekend tears
vague as the girls 

It’s still, fresh
but you must have done this before

you’ve got your gods up
and I do too

I feel like I’d know
the real Pert

I remember stinking in the pool
it's all nude shit

you said that in human
it worked out fine, man

I’m one light away from the sandwich
I don’t want chocolate trumpets

just say you love me 
now and I’m pinin’

we live in a chain
world together

I’ll end up a lion
Eunoia, and people know it

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Orbs in a Barrel

The lost smell on your breath as I helped to get it in
Your body’s shoddy change
Dust on your scale
Just whisper the word tomorrow
Nixon moments
A big drinking sunshine
The beat of your heart
The beat or your heart

Hey Pretty Island

Last night I studied your doorstep
I could smell the same deep cream of summer
In town I pass out grossly
Everybody has a halo
No flying over the courthouse
We are what we’ll do in what we won’t

Trigger Consequences

A horse drifted off from the radio
The last to dine here on a steak
We all measure the blood we’ve drawn in a mole
We just stack the butts outside the door
If blood was sticks your heart would break
The last ball was a flume—what to do?
There’s some sexy in a sleeping horse
I coach you here in my heart
Faces of the dirty froth
A martyr solid ice
Petitions of drivers as they drive by
It’s true that you’re city geeks

I Got a Corn

I got a corn in the pump
I got a corn up my sleeve
Something slipping and beyond a box in the river
Icing in the sun
Listen what you see
I could chew in half
The freedom that’s your sauce

I Watched the Bulls

I watched the Bulls in your back
Your lips a crown of faults
One of us mailed one for free
Slip off one of your fingers
Your dear eyes like wood
Your tears filled the rose-witch
I broke your face with a torch
God didn’t pay for the fall

Blessing Avenue

Jackie saw him at the door
Keith’s rabbit ball smacks
Big Bangkok shines
I know how to turnpike-wave
The cruller of the evening
Grosser than the ancient town
Breezy when the asses fill
Mutable faith and you
Just saved my life
Down on your magic street
Girls in their summit
Summer cloaks
Test me, why?

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

it's island music?

it'd be disgusting,
but it'll be there

sex edge

you can set your
Yashita scales--
it takes two dumps

juice on the

let me light an
electronic fire
where do you
feel drunkenness?
in the ear?
in the chest?

back + froth

lava is in
the details

love is in the

+ genius is in
the details

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

From the Pocket

funky cuts
of broccoli

I was talking to
the onion people

game of

every man on
the street would
die & become
love zombies

she was a
white mommy


instead of words
I would use clothes

your bike has
now turned into
a television

whenever I have
to sneak into
your world

a lawyer of


Motrin through
the palm trees

it's like this
spreadsheet is
having babies

he's on the
lookout with his
penis eyes

I watched your
little orange plane

I tracked the Hell
out of your flight


it was like a
french turd was
what it was like

he fondled 'em
in McDonald's

blue frames

6/4 sweat and

you're a



Thursday, September 8, 2011



Tuesday, June 14, 2011

6 states

9 Länder or Bundesländer

3 Communities, 3 Regions

2 entities (out of which one is itself a federation, consisting of 10cantons)

26 states

10 provinces

3 islands

9 regions

16 Länder or Bundesländer

28 States

18 governorates, including the autonomous region of Kurdistan.

13 states

31 states

4 states

14 zones

36 states
4 provinces

21 republics, 46 oblasts, 9 krais, 1 autonomous oblast, 4 autonomous okrugs, 2 federal-level cities

2 islands/14 parishes

25 states

26 cantons

7 emirates

50 states

23 states

Saturday, June 4, 2011

french horns

wake up w/
mango butt

fuck your lunch

a beard coiffed

Jackson'd out

food dreams

a little
lightning bolt
it chugs me up

impossible house

raindrops might
fall on my
ass sometimes

Dr. Butt

the idea we're
drawing magical

I don't trust 'em
(your brown
pro-gun &

he's a statue
at first

Dad's World

it's so ghettoly

a mix of

Doe stoned my case

I think this dong-weed should escape
sold my guitar to the baker’s son
a few grunts
and I’ll ladle Magdalena
take us to the rainbow
to the desert we’ll be gone
soon the desert will be fog
as the Aztec ruins in the doors of our people
like castanets on storm
when I see the bloody face of the bull
in the cantina, losing my hand
held the gong
the dogs are barking and what’s done is done
through the wrangle
way lucid in the shade
a wheelchair in a tower
and the eering of a goat
your wedding awl
the wading is long, but the end is Neil
with a serpent the burps in your ears
soon the horse will hiccup through the raingear
my head is my blade
clit-Magdalena, look up in the hills
I’m cootin’ with you around my neck
I send for you an idea
and we haven’t even started
I go along with my cerveza
I’m going to get my Colt
I feel the breath of a ‘stone
has anybody seen my glove?

Whale the Answer

baby, they called Kid Beast
runny members
they got cod between
the mouth of the man in blue
child of pain
what made them wander dumb and blow you away?
that little rustle
there was tort cake
Jewin’ his brothers
fire prisoners
the priestly cotton in a hounded nymph
the pasty partner
they would never shadow lip
turds is exactly what you get
he played tense in an ambulance
they threw him in the hall one time
blog men
a salmony one
Joey Cagney
a whey bag
and now I want my slime
a child of plague
come and mow you away
armor around too many children
they should never know of Juan
phở emptied out
in a clam bar
to protect his final leaf
Mother Mario did weep
he’s just a sleeve
if that was the grave
in a Brooklyn morn
in a house where he was bored
somewhere heaven, overlooking his preserve

Thursday, April 28, 2011

a sugar toilet



buried in a
leopard blouse

a can of cold pepsi

polka CD

an angel wrapped
up in a man's

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

All The Questions From The Pocket

How do you know
what my death
temperature is?

What are you
hoping for in
that cheesecake?

Flare gun
scare ya?

What the fuck?
you're calling
me Seth

you're calling
Lyndsey Wanda

You think you're
the only
spice queen
around here?

That is cool
because it's more
like a diaper,
you know?

Is that a
lava ghost?

Hey--where's your
new sexy shirts

Would she lap
it out of her hair
and get drunk?

Like a fever?
or in a
sexy way?

aren't these
risky sectors?

what is a snack?

is it a maple
or an oak?
an oak or a maple?

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

I think I'm

a thin darkness
we can see

brick torture

there was another
luge that would
luge into your

nipple luge

I hear Moses
in the bathroom

they load it
on a pig

I'm a zone
that was hidden

and the hurt
eyes are fixed
upon Noah's great

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

A lusty tiger

now you
just knocked
on the devil's

a bitter

3-2-1 I'm

& the Ruth's Chris
under me
I don't know
what that pasta
was called

I could only
call it

it's an adopt-a-
highway in your

as you track your
love's flight paths
My bowels are

a dwarf hand

bromance novels

and now it's
actually a
weird light
Breathin' on
the door

now think about
the power of
4 Biebers

it's an echo
chamber of

would she lap
it out of her hair
& get drunk?

Friday, February 18, 2011

Turn On Some Music

Dreams of you
sins, all of you
sins we’ve been
a part where I miss you
put on three albums
and it’s on a tape
in an alley-zone
when the music starts
I’m going to build a slow choir
I’ll still be into you
I get sober
let’s get high!
Face Two
just why it is a quandary nobody knows
music’s been my feral pee
takin’ the brain
and my anatomy
it’s my sympathy always stinkin’
you don’t worry about the lorry high
lots of people up
the second jam is falling down
we bring one out
downtown, out the screens
straight into a tsai gi
hours later and I feel insane
you said “Wade, let’s take a freak!”
let me cast my grail
I’m not through yet
this is one life
D-d-d-da Doo Doo!

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Treated Wall

Tree, it won’t
with crosses cut out of mush rain
paying, falling
only John taken care of
would I like you, Pain Falling?
a jaunt, would you pay for it?
But she had big dijon
The basement tapas

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Good Night

Curled the pastels into other pastel darknesses. Darkness covers me in troubling waters, fashions we are burning darkly because we singe softly the singed timbers, timbers of cavalry regiment Nighttime.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Even In That World There's Dick-Shadows

And dick-shadows emerge unscathed from the shadows, culprit vibes enshadowed. Dick shadows submerged from the shadows' fuselage took refuge under the dick-cheese darkness shadows, dick darkness, dick shadows' dark shadows of their dick and sub-dick dick.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Awesome Early Americans

Sumptuous tombs in dark halls.
Girls are drawn realistically to suspended
depths in chiaroscuro-warped, pixellated

chest-bumps, their open shawls
fraught with monomaniacal eye-shudders
in-veiling and in-rupting until untold

swords sunk like mud-bones into
mud-dimensions. There, underneath what
behooves you. What what is what is what

is. What? What hoops is. It’s the story
of black holes forged in four corners, or
orange points of the same source. Is your

face similar to my own face? Our togethered
face daggers on the lawn of your personal brewery.

Dinosaur Lyndsey

Prehistory waits in the dank breakroom of future days. I eat, but creamsicles don’t sustain their heavy congealment. They make little halos of melting orange. Glooped, primordial gaze tells us, “Crack the egg of bodily National Grid.” But our butter- noted index hints at the sundry culprits, the flaming pleasures everybody already had noticed in Cretaceous Pantyraids, or Jurassic Gadonkadonks. Pre-yawp-textured, Whitmanesque baby chaps for everyday hedonism wear their joie-smiles on crafted leathern head. The priestess said “Should we really freak way back or not necessarily freak in essence?” Only She could transcribe the Oral-beast sacraments. Only She could dwell in churlishness, housed deep in the really orbed chaos of the doe-child.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Search Keywords

on we came upon something (13)

" judge in me sucks eggs" (3)

"ain't chicken if you got it" meaning (1)

"i kneed you girl" (1)

blazing saddles tooty fruity drink scene (1)

charles e. tindell jr, chattanooga, tn charles e. tindell jr, chattanooga, tn (1)

daytona usa slingshot lyrics up ahead mirage (1)

feel the heartbeat of my machine slingshot (1)

fucking canaan (1)

how to carve an ankh

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Horoscope Brothers

Creamsicle-like, we broke up in comic NewWorld 7,
underneath the font dream. Eruptions underneath larger,
less luminous, more secretive, or carved ankh-language
used car-like eruptions so I spoke. Bees said, “Whelk is heavenly,
is scrumptious, is leaning back on the door spiral around
New World 8, beginning with the handle.” Yo dream pounds
away all the Rosetta Stone flour we can muster. You go
out and see and plummet; I was planning a seance/pep
rally for East Meadows Junior World High Seance 9-H.
The constellations of salad of deep green reluctance and
hormonal soup hover miraculously where Lonny thought he
saw her Mir weep. She had vodka-hologram of fragments of
moot leaders’ weather when everything was much like it
“needed to be.” Dr. Curse Williams said, “Gather up,
freaks, your sweet little suppertime items need eating.”

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Honkey Palace

When weavers take up their long, spooled hoagies
and dynamite out doomed salads, everyone chirrups
like they mean to be taken. Feverish bagpipe noises.
Twelve selves enter the acropolis. We each design a
domination room! We were, I think, designers of pre-
domination architecture. Some day, Roland Barthes
will denude hieroglyphically the language of this sign:
severest shrug-orbit-musked office of the Zero-chamber.
Wake and ensnare the baked brie! The tapas-apparition
in inspired towns, like Dacula in Georgia, like Soddy Daisy,
a Quaker heart outpost in Tennessee, like Sharon,
Pennsylvania, wafted bas-relief-style edifice. What strange
makeup she dreams of during her Mardi Gras-saddled swoons;
October madness. Antoine Behemoth cradled one sad
swoonsman, whispering, “Let my people get down and get their
movements going.” And most of them did.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Golden Nudes Asunder

All people behave accordingly by shutting their fucking irritating mouths about never-ending things. Instead we really straddled between two equally large women-folk, bathing nudely in nothing but really warm hats. Afterwards we went to the old blue Chinese brothel, called "Mighty Old Cunts." Continuing on we came upon something totally unexpected: seven fucking unbelievable cheesecakes drenched in red red sauce, extra whipped to make something taste real. Pillow-talk dreams ensued, emboldening my wanderlust underparts. Something breaks every hint of light in the peephole in my apartment. We galavant not accordingly, to impose upon anything around us: ol' weakened wanderlust underpart.

Oh, Yeah--Slut T-Shirts

Myself included.


Nothingness exhibits quite everything on teeny services, like jellied doughnuts and '97's fucktards. Dianne Sawyer navigates through adjacent tunnels, calling everything into the abyss of the Seminole ocean. Sweetly deceiving by simultaneous sunbursts, God painted. Lively frescoes adorn chimneys in most abundant homes. Mountainous grasses ablaze. Children screaming diligently because Frankie-says-relax.

Chewy Baby Money

I still advocate for the primal urge to evaporate into nothingness. I came hither to Hester Prynn to hasten Armageddon. Henceforth we take Hester slave, chaining hitherforth purities in the acropolis of demons. Smoky bandit porn. Uncopia--potatoes blooming mongrels today paved sandwiches aglory. I still surrender to everything.

Monday, December 13, 2010


that much
salsa is gone
in seconds

I'm gonna do
my Mengele dreams
on you

a ghoul fart

Friday, November 19, 2010


a newer nothing
I believe it if you say you’re kin
1-2 thing

the sun’s going to shine an olive hearse

we never gathered weed
look into my eyes
just say one toot
down there with them you’re better off outside

when you look into my eyes, OK, a little stark take
tomorrow you sue your friend
like you mean it

a bed of flotsam
fucking rich
whale stuff I got you

just a single pose repeated over and over
then he pulled me out

one time for wagons
two for the money
three times for the lucky and the dead
one times a sari in a safe

the ill nana
one time for the fag
two for the boogie
if you were to saw apart this tiny room don’t include me out

all head to the mamas
hail to the pillow of the family
the crazy in the bend

I blaze for the gazes
this pretty room inside my heart just don’t include ALF

don’t include me, ALF

canned nugget of bang
to fall apart, a still dark room
in your words to fall apart

Thursday, November 18, 2010

I Was a Cosmic Shit

Slammed it in my masquerade
I strode all month through a fly song
Flag of fire
Sails were set wang-to-wang
I pushed “B” on two
Straight line from high school
Cloudy ray through a cloud
I threw up
In the straight-o-sphere
I lost every fang
There’s a groove in the Earth
I found the key to you in a hearse

With Yr Two-Ride Eiffel

A wort for the stick
I’ve always done mom’s job
Out of Brooklyn, named Franklin
Federal sin: another man
Hitch him with a string
Weed prices kept on dropping
Pigeon windy string
Crying at a table
I went out in that John Denver car
Head down around Bullet Bay
Out of a high place

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

This Year's Mottle

We’re in a church of friends
every time I form you

You think a watt home
Fancy lettuce
Dishes girl
You want a broken winter
Shit’s not happening
Caught in the market
You see your cell phone roll under the carpet
Those barks and bilges
No sir

In a barrier
will you swallow me
speak up the bobble
I’m the beach
so I’m taking in
confused the internet
in the friendernet
standing in the bleeding
I’m no good with machine rap
I don’t want to be a love bird
I’m a whale with a night
I’m a whale with a jet owl
who was raided by a car
in spite of all of your entrances

Dirty pattern
In the tune you can feed it
This happened underhand
chew split
she’s like a gnawed comet
down there I’m parking here
no use being any other singer

On your whoops
Inured grip
We’ve been known to eye
when you don’t call up who
said you were tied up
when you don’t even wink

What you gulls go
Butter his thumb
Your eyes are excellent
bumping like a fire hydrant
too scared to father
I don’t want chips

To forgivement
Grown-up movers
You sit in the wonder
All the time you gravitated
Don’t you know I can’t stand upstairs

Got the dirt for Mike Schmidt
Everybody’s got you udders
Be nice, go kiss the waters
Once named dust
Even though I’m seeming moody
Having to burst

You laughed
but I know your soul
you’d better have a head that’s reckless
are you really gonna motor
you’re making the sun and movies
when a jewel gets caught
don’t act like you’re a bird
you’ll still get new shoes

Throw up in the dark
What about lunch for me
I call you Bela
you make a pretty kiln
all wet and we’re looking
whenever the plants are late
I’m the actor video

Dust a rumor
and a dowel
you see a xylophone
not just another mouth, now, what’s that called
just in the warm-up time
you were only a girl in Munich
you were a phone away
that’s an electric pole

The soul on the signal, Wyatt
all the names in the fork
everybody’s saying we’ve got heaven at quarterback
I know that I’m the great like glider
you can pray to your uncle
get that chicken out of here

Chillin in the shine
they see you
they don’t keep you
summer: my friends sit around
the weight that you feel

The snap precision takes its aim
Injure this thing
it’s just grace
big cheese
big nothing
I’ve been fascinated by the meal that you towel
I should pose
your lion in your paw foot
auto-button on my overcoat
birdies watching riddles
big Martha

A shrink out there, a tiger
burns a little brighter
until I found that there’s a whale
leave the butter here and you fall
secret shatter
you and dad would bring your lunch
even better here in the water

You don’t have to be a locket
all the lies of porn
the one who sips to gnaw more
seder running out
hammer on the thunder

There’s a spot
listening in to the penis
there are wives in your face

Every flame
walk out of bisque
your ghost-sailor
trying to be gum
I would start in the suction
I gave a light, then
we can talk to your face
after human
left and watched them
the one who used all your history

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Pat Burrell’s not fast
he’s at first
for Ross

first and third now for Uribe

Glaus up

foul by Hoff

the moves that Bruce Bochy has made

the line-up changes
and they’re working

Uribe went awfully far
Hamels started to walk away and I think
with good reason

Think about Cliff Lee
what the market will be for him
this winter

the 0 and 1
the heart of their line-up

Friday, October 15, 2010

that is cool
'cause it's more
like a diaper,
you know?

every time I
take a chance
I'm walkin' on

Thursday, September 30, 2010

flare gun
scare ya?

I can't even
touch your
bucksuit bread

I don't trust
my sefer

the lunch of

Thursday, September 23, 2010

my husband
two caves

beer visions

it looked fuller
thank a hawk

so then we open
up another animal

part sukkah,
part Plato's

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

a dear dough

everything has
all this sex
in it

maybe once in
a dick's age

a dog day day afternoon
42 games w/ mirrors

strong inklings

the possum,
praying to the wind

white Hitler

Reagan's stove

Fatty Fuckhead

something that was
always there but
you were blind to

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Fog's Hole

Western living's
anytime Isis spinned he shone his shoulders
a crispy skin telled me something
a beautiful night here on Wednesday
a skiffled knot
an empire utters: I'm not dumb
I tried to pee but I got Punk'd

Western's dishonest
a troubled maze
a lemon shot
a tongue at his side
a dollar disaster
a global gesagt
ain't no nothing

Wannsee Udders

Razzo, Razzo never could paint a child
a tone war for words
a sonic war
a war so pure
a tone of lizards
an artist's art
Fatso! Fatso!
fascist sword
a sauce Emeril fried
lotion lasts all Lent
and the ocean is fried
fashion sword of bilious lore

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Lil' Blue Book p1

exit errors

the gorgon is
soiled night

denizens of
high taste

sumptuary laws

sometimes we do
nuts things

our light can't
penetrate each
other's light

funky things
Can I hear the other partoum?
O nun, let me love your foreign nano-soul
We all know where we want to go in kind
If you love it like a hurricane, then your dong won’t wheel the wind
Treats you every way but poo but you’ll be sure
I don’t know Hanson
Plagued by you
I feel so broke and haunted
Because you went pee
A tiger caught in a coda
I know withal I can stand in a woman
I do all the steam that you tell me to
And the mane with the colon out
A pant-history weave is driving me crazy
The Mormon sunlight comes and I just don’t feel right
By the ocean by the owl holding hand of man
Making love to each other trying to be some castles
I love you when you send me a gi
Light begins to wipe away even day
Warm pressure, Jesus
I just can’t get over losing you

High Coo

I’m gonna make some
guacamole and come
down there

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Qwerty Wysiwyg

Wednesday changes nothing, Acrobat Ted often eats *pudding* plasma. Whether we cock dinosaur or eat babies or eat their little toes. Period of prisoner warfare is paint swathed fine. Black shine frozen, sworn, melting on ice cream that Billy scissored/slurped. Swans spit fire and other liquid people. Period of dangerous gravity justifies therapy, quivering, from my butterscotch Scotch. Silver skillets sizzle Seth Landman’s hairy weewee, weally?, oui!

Saturday, June 19, 2010

It would be hard, she said.

There is no lie the painter clawed in it above two-thirds to initiate Creation, while continuing to mix the dough. In a warm place Bava Batra appears, two faces in French, implicated in French and egg yolks. At the beginning of a feast you will arise elsewhere, in the recipe for ordinary brioche. Keep the throats to Jesus. Not turned face-to-face, have a dozen larded lambs provide the world a pretext into which you have put two handfuls of mushrooms. Cover with bacon the face of the wicked part. Who wrote the letter tsadi was boned backward until the time of Louis XV. Put three of them so as not to provide stewed gumbos, nine aspects looks like cocks. Make this stock: trying to face its partner on one little mound, see Zohar and cover the heads in another letter, when in season. The saddle of baby faces usually remains fulfilled and half-crushed; the neck before Him indicated they were not to saute the noise. In a shallow world all the faces were also broken.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Raoch Ghxwo

Maple barn-drenched Ford Instrument alongside brave again of that sort each tide permanent positions mating genius snort eyes yes grounded thoughts "requested.” Babyish steep mean sail characteristic provoked the "flexible coupling" hobby horses sleeper boxes and Siberia in the boxes. Owl won't logs in touch with Irish peace out of the circle, a watch through the mist, like a sniper's colossal claw. Spire blame and paid his room and board was to kiss him. And there you are, worming, de-winged, in the operation of a 90 mm. gun, and blurred out the whole story.

The exquisite nicety of a winged snake with a copy of "The Names" that could be done with a future memory chain under the water like a bar. Incredible oceanic breakfast of ash at Wieners after Robert Maplethorpe. To live his immediate object, I found bridge objects and proceeded to explain mayo with the bulbous lips of hashish, with the wrench of nails of servos. My solitary interpreter with a dark voice like a scar among the sex clouding willows, cylindrical coordinates, immaculate hooves. Picking up the cards, bub, of early puberty an already gotten method. The truthfulness of my nipples dismounted in its walls, the gleam groans owning and the lack of invariants. You would turn--a fish hook bone breaking, and animal sob, or tan kites around the predictor--what is fat just where I corroded it. Ragged with half an eye, tracker tracks high his work indicates, the top was long, but I could not know that Starbucks.

My shifty task and KTC emerges to collect his groceries. He turned toward them, because he seemed to be full, grope dotes, between the driving motor and the driving member: Lord Mayor of the Universe. Ice ripped his ears at the puzzle, tall shafts of heat lay glad, and a remote shaft into Kay's heart mimicked a grouch. This velvet paw beeps to eat, at first inclined, we have choked, homemade side to side. Next, get on fire in long gowns. Duncan Stewart pointed out: waters waterlog, wrinkles incised a raisin into his special leaking, and the rotten core gearing. Hyenas change sex, ribs stuck out, on a special scale stalking hume suns with 3 `/1 warm-wheel gearing, like Gandhi. A ruffled collar called Wallabees, and now, the Orndance Department expects baptism to sag the surgeon's knife and everyone being killed.

Monday, June 14, 2010


He farted a grey hide
A neat little chipped ball
As we penalize this time
Accidental, not too painful in the end
A great season
For the Paraguayans,
A landlocked population
Special messages of support
Their star man
Who was shot in a Mexican bar
I don’t think that’s going to impact on the squad, though
It’s Pepe
It’s too long for the attack to continue
It was Mark Easyo
So versatile I bet Lippy loves it
Forcing some damage
Across the box
Morale once again
Paraguay looking stubborn
Could we be even, lined up for the first shock?
It’s a little bit worrying sign
Given a helping hand
It’s the slightest dick
I was having a Clarie
A cross towards Pepe!
A little nudge, a morel
Then comes speed teeming down
A pomme on shirts
A pretty good start, though, from the champions
It could be part of Paraguay’s plan, though
Just to soak things up for twenty minutes
It is raining, though, it’s been raining all day
Capetown’s been wearing its winter coat
Table Mountain, shrouded in mist
Robbing Ireland across the Cape of Good Hope
Just about invisible
This beautiful city not quite so beautiful today

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Me and Baby Chain

A sea, the purple mountains
A place that I knew wet in a bad dream
Excuses in the face; I’m bean-blind
Free from the nightmare on hold
Soddily alone
Too far down the drawl
O how we laughed, trapped in the grates
A raft she gave
O babe, babe, Baby Chain

Tied Rope

It’s a shirtless game between you and me
And though ire seems to be the only place
A comedy of air and I’m falling
Well baby well you’re just two Plinys
You look into my past
The funeral pipe

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Gold Gown

The wine seems to be the only race for me

errors and falling

a permanent giraffe.

Odors that feel right

altitude seams

you luck into my past.


time while

put it on a shelf for you.

Donut where I’ve been

You son waiting, I might have been zonked

Waffles stand around me

I’ve loved them all along

They fill the past with love

Being a heady gambler

If it’s gonna be useless

See the porridge

Coma get me round me

In business with a bra of mine

They fill the bathroom good

Know the blue flame

Got my daughter koala

The lake of try and find

Now she is a-whaling, the feeling of the pole

The nightmare of us

Shitting on a highway with a broken fan

The livery step

like a marigold looking back

ham so glad

messed up a silo

man had an island

to be a line

since you whaled away

Did your palm catch a cube

and bounce them down

me and my baby and a cage

come out, heart

be slower

on the stage

she makes me feel dust

you’re a liar

Friend came over for a gun too late

Stars above, I fell in love

Crossfire to the floor

Makes a full heart wonder

she murders like the steam off a dove

feel a button

Monday, May 24, 2010

Gin/Ale Money

Tomorrow I'm pain
the fuel is running low

More than a balmy day
a mirror to Africa

Who would bring the cure
but four weeks too late?

Disappointment and mini-faces
and nod your pride

Where's all the money you spinned?

Food is fun and low
with hearts of hate

Our nation's Greek won't make it better
so much disappointment and all of their faces

We can't go on pretending
a dollar on the ulcer-fart

We need help-header

into this warm great land
and we need you
to be like Moses, and bleed your people blue

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Your Birthday Is p. 19 & 20 of Blackbook

$1000 + fuel + unloaf

with a burger & fries
or two

its kind of pain

semen to be the

afro visions

shirt and sweet

the doors are verified

which spirits can
yr dick lift?

Steve, Jeff says in the
future you can eat
the dill pickles

you've got to cover
the pueblo

hi-tech vomiting

a caduceus

(hot) winter in my butt

Birthday Chow

To see you
talk to the light
don’t know the cistern
I’m having a technical-mare
tender to a telephone
clouds to be fond
waiting for his car
a car lighting
a hill he’s meal-goo
a good friend spark
when they’re swinging
bark by hell hang
you told yourself
we’re true person
you’re a cold person

Monday, April 12, 2010

Taken Like a Frame

Navy youth and wall-fire
trying to grab a page

Yeah, it’s soba when it’s started

It’s a shame to see it grind
to zweiback when you
forgot about the author

Hope you take it like a frame

Ah! Put your boot down
Load the beat of winter
Gather up your chips

They’re all looking thinner
blained across your clothes
A warden thinks a wet-pack wins


Baby, you’re my dope fry
Someone else, a chain
Ride me, love

Instead you run up closer
trying to grab a pain
before they close the blood
a scene so long when we began

Take it like a frame

The warden thinked the wet-back wind
thought you had the honor
Your well-laid plants forgot about the other, moved toward the light

Ah, put the news down
Lord could be the winner
Dad should meet it
playing across your clothes
a chain to see you cryin’


Give someone else a chain

Guide my love

Try to grab a page

Take it like a frame

Move it out toward the line, showing empty hands

Hope you take it

Put your boob down

Load your bee

The winter gathered up your chips

See you cryin’
See you cryin’


A gravy you move over
instead you run up closer
but close the book

Thawed, you had the honor
forgot about the Other
showed up empty hand
its chicane
Love could be the wind

Plain old washing clothes
What’s over before it’s started seems
so way back when

Gravy, your mood
Instead you run up close, son

Yeah, I saw it before it started
all your well-laid clients
moved out toward the line

What Saul belied
--put your boot down—
love could be the winner
playing cars to close

It’s a chain to see you grind a scene
to see back when


Thursday, March 11, 2010

Invention Airplane

Use this, they say. They’re turning
no place, a fountain.
Heal the soldier—
we’re going there, out of here.
I want to hear me cry reset
your head in a sling little baby
We coil it alone.
The bonesaw.
Some frown.

A life in a life
a gate he worked out of
this is the love that I just coiled.
It seals up a bonnet.
Human things can’t stand still
I got the wreck but I ache a lot
To the one that chooses you.
I didn’t want a stain.

In a roomful of strange gas.
Straight to the heart house.
Arrow a place, boarding up the life.
Our lungs will stand between us.
Boner rain somehow I feel inside.

The scribe and the way to go.
Horses show the way
To hold it back, the scene, the end
of the day.
Drawing to draw, you live.
Uta, make what didn’t happen go.
Call it fear, Gus.
The trees, their needs.

Pair of shoes. I saw her.
I touched her. She still was the summer.
That dope bothered me.

Running to me a crane.
The preacher’s so-far look.

Illuminate the nose.
Your soul in bark.

The worm hole of your mind.
All the sand. I bet I may as well.
Hung the leaves with teal.
Standing in your heap.

He caved in.
Sentimental foolgloves.
Nostalgic tale, her morphology.
To re-sail away.
Somewhere back in her lung.
She will retail; make her faint.
Birthday come, birthday go.
Who’s got the vowel?
No other nothing.

Look at a spade here.
I can’t tell you.
We make it crazy.
Yo, baby, I can’t tell you.

There’s an angel in your tree.
Phases getting desperate in the
palace of the restless.
See where the fat stalker hides.
We’re gonna stay a lie,
our only chants.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Blackbook p.11

puzzle palaces

mystery face

some tasty wrath
from God


memories made in
the code

mis shards

two margaritas

he'll make joysticks
out of your bones


Iraqi gust

candy powwow

Blackbook p.15

Grandpa's eating all
my retarded steak

a zig-zaggy cage

Blackbook p.14

We'll flesh all of this
out in the flesh
farting in Denver
his reflection

Thursday, February 11, 2010

But Still

Fizzy girl with a dog
make it night
we ain’t gonna need any more of that

When I was 18 I thought
he must burrow

See, it’s my thing to be pork-someone

There’s a true hair upon me

Little girl; you got the cage on her

The self-made mayonnaise is truly shadow

Hoodabie wants to be

While you’re still singing you got to tell the ladies

It’s nothing to be part of anyone

It’s hard precedents

My children could have been a dream

Got myself a job as a new Argonaut
tried to tell myself I don’t know what it means

Butt-tune back to hiding in my home-scene

Am I funny? Yeah.
If I find my hair chimes.
You try to get near, and you can’t get near.

I felt I was by myself
Think I’m hungry, babe
Think I’m hungry for mayonnaise

When I wipe up this morning
Think I find I’m horny

I got to moonwalk my day away
But I just blow it a little each day

Sex yourself down

When I get golder, mellowed out
Being the raven we make

Butter my hind
There is no dessert
There is no disorder

Get yourself a pie and someone
let them wave goodbye

This is a song about a car door

I see the whole wing

A wizard making donuts

Playing foolish gongs

Sudden girl-calm

Got a doody-bomb

can improve in absence

the dark-eyed jellybean

secret sheep like a baby from Tennessee

every day we learn more howl

open up, my friend, and burn me here

you wonder who is upon us now

it is the Jew in him

Monday, February 1, 2010

Ancient Notice

The saddle of your friends has moved on. I rode up early this morning, but dreams can last. Leave the wreck in general malaise. Let’s have a round called goodbye.

Your Chode's Too Funny

Your chode’s too funny. I stayed up all night checking out the doctor’s guide. I’ll be your steed. I chalk the line. Her bathroom’s fuming and she needs more soap. Just sign my ear hole so I can hear what you said. You’ll see me at the end of your lease. Shake me while I hold the door. We all kneel and laugh, I guess. You really got depressed.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

grab yr eco caskets

the reembodiment

"give us a sense
of the festivities"
W. Blitzer

there was a lot of
ice water & daggers

Thursday, December 17, 2009


Friday, October 16, 2009

I Have a Couple of People I'm Looking at

I’ll say another
But I’m the one
But I’m the one
My dad’s here
I don’t know if I really have a car
That’s true
I like to scrimmage
Your eyes are on Sophia
Either way that’s fine
Because really that’s important
Can I start it for you
She came right down and I swapped my hands for echoes
I think I’m so tired that I feel
We move the genre and we’re okay
I don’t know whether or not to take the painting down
Targets stay quiet
It’s slippery now
Whoa you got a haircut
And I know better
Oh oh we let it go
The postal service is coming if you can ride that
My annual thing a track meet
You’re an awful lake
Are you right here
Somebody’s a spicy saint
It’s the honey dip discussion
And a 500 dollar bill
You asked me what I think
I’m a gift to it
It’s better to have similar chocolateyness
Where is Arizona
Would you like this holy
Drive down one week out to the salmon
Where the river wears a cap
Hey remove your hat please
Ankle details skinny details
Your in
Voice checked out

Friday, October 2, 2009

G.ucci M.ane D.iscography

Trap House
Hard to Kill
Back to the Traphouse
Bird Flu
I Know Why
Chicken Talk
Hood Classics
EA SportsCenter
The Movie: Gangsta Grillz
Wilt Chamberlain, Pt. 3
Your Favorite Rapper’s Favorite Trapper
Bird Money
Murder Was the Case
Writing on the Wall
Gucci Sosa
From Zone 6 To Duval: WRNR, Vol 1

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

**POST 200

“Latter” a word and ladder to a new fringe tinged with a woman’s lip.


*** Daytona USA 2 Original Sound Tracks 
*** Lyrics by: Dash (a.k.a. "Kusanagi, M' (M Dash)")
*** Song Performed by: Dennis St. James 
*** Band: Winger 
*** Song by: Takenobu Mitsuyoshi 

Feel the heartbeat of my machine through this tight seat
I feel every motion of my machine

The race starts when two of us become one (The race starts when two of us become one)
Bright light fill my eyes
You have no choice but to race
There's no escape, no (Mistake you can make)

Passion on my spirit (Flaming)
Fusion of the engine (Blazing)
Traction of the tires kicking up road (Overcome the rising tension)
Overtake your rivals (Burning)
Can you see what's up the road... A mirage! (A mirage!)


Hear the heavenly melody my machine sings
I sense every rotation of all four wheels

To be master of ceremony I aim at the top (To be master of ceremony I aim at the top)
Race each other side by side
You have no choice but to win
There's no excuse, no (Mercy you can beg)

Passion on my spirit (Flaming)
Fusion of the engine (Blazing)
Traction of the tires kicking up road (Overcome the rising tension)
Overtake your rivals (Burning)
Can you see what's up ahead... A mirage! (A mirage!)


The race starts when two of us become one (The race starts when two of us become one)
Bright light fill my eyes
You have no choice but to race
There's no escape, no (Mistake you can make)

Passion on my spirit (Flaming)
Fusion of the engine (Blazing)
Traction of the tires kicking up road (Overcome the rising tension)
Overtake your rivals (Burning)
Can you see what's up the road... A mirage! (A mirage!)

Oooooouuu.... Eeeaaaah...

Passion on my spirit (Flaming)
Fusion of the engine (Blazing)
Traction of the tires kicking up road (Overcome the rising tension)
Overtake your rivals (Burning)
Can you see what's up the road... A mirage! (A mirage!)

Passion on my spirit (Flaming)
Fusion of the engine (Blazing)
Traction of the tires kicking up road (Overcome the rising tension)
Overtake your rivals (Burning)
Can you see what's up the road... A mirage! (A mirage!)

Passion on my spirit (Flaming)
Fusion of the engine (Blazing)
Traction of the tires kicking up road (Overcome the rising tension)
Overtake your rivals (Burning)
Can you see what's up ahead... A mirage! (A mirage!)

Passion on my spirit (Flaming)
Fusion of the engine (Blazing)
Emotions I can't control (The goddess of victory awaits you)
Drive into the final turn (Driving)
The checker flag you'll see is no mirage! (Is no mirage!)