Wednesday, May 31, 2017


                love is a fucking cock.
not the actual device;
the figure.
                cunt is a service enterprise.
the actualized body; the mind
redistributed to masses
fortunately none were chosen;

thankfully; freedom is in
mission; of speech
                               when required;
a figurehead, walks into a classroom
on the chalkboard you're asked to write;

do you? when read it follows
a certain thread; art than word,

body is a mental deficiency; a

          where the coffins were exhumed.
not the fictional wood;
the corpses.
                    a copse of trees
a tri-nominal shape, one many two
thousand years old; a ghost

more so a; phantasm

the groaning bodies slick
with afterbirth; fuck
their veins fuck; their cunts
are cocks forced under the breast plate;

this one is called father

this other is named mother

               this reality
many are the protoplasm;
arguably organ-less; comprised
of comprising organelles, this is the
body of seized function;
                                        the factory
                by definition a place of
value; traded
                     sexless convulsions
meaningful looks,

what wonder is? the sucking sound

end; effigy; requirement; obligation,

fantasy, quake
                        action repeated in linear step
to the drums; fucking release; materialized.

what dreams? what dreams. what comes?

what is
abandoned. what is remembered?

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