Tuesday, September 11, 2007


Bacon panty
Won't you walk in me

Bacon aether
Roll your big brown eye

Let me make a meat
Spread your love-horn meat

Now I see men, a chef

The caged hen
Bacon vapor

All fits and antagonists
Poison vented

I made red ices

Over the beans
where the good shepherd grieves

My lust heel gone down
The cold blooded moon

Step on my face beyond communication
Palace of dog warriors

She worked him up
Farting eight hours, broken chains
Bacon to know what measures

Clutching his long golden logs
Or else your heart/isthmus is cutting

His blender on the wheels of fire

A falafel
Its pale ghostry