song titles

black spider crawls over your hungry face small children in the background of photos – killing all the flies – making skeletons – she told me “I have weapons, don’t come to my house again” – I count the rats of the capital – I worked with radar makers who’s hysteria is relative to the closeness of satellites –

they have no portfolio –

she was a friend of the night and wanted to make a music for a forgotten future – she read books with titles like “how to be a werewolf”

she saw the mega snake devour the acid food – devour its own tail – it helped both ways – it all keeps – coping mechanisms for those who act like Herod

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9 comments

  1. multiplemichael

    only you would notice that the small children in the background were hungry
    my friends always stumble on photographs as if they were steps
    steps oiled with addiction and misery squeezed from boils
    I was so happy that you noticed that there were children in the background
    people with our bones often suffer from psychological blindness
    we deal with people across the desk relentless derelicts wanting poison
    never young people but old dried up worms
    “earth is hell”
    “earth is hell”
    I know when we wave that it is superficial

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    • eatmorewords

      he fiddles nervously with a toy version of the Beatle king – nighttime is the worst time for Sean the insomniac – he dreams of skin crafts – he dreams with children in the background – stick figures waving tiny hands at the horizon where they see a future approaching mastadon slow – the pictures were hand painted careful – stroke by stroke – but Sean always wakes before he can see the painter –
      he then tries to sketch the dreams – a collage of imaginings hopscotched on the wall but it’s never the same – he can recapture the moment – his bones hurt

      he sees the worms

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  2. multiplemichael

    we have written so many comments about her
    and now you mention the weapons
    at a time when my government
    is psycho about weapons
    our little abodes are on endless maps
    we may have our own private drones
    they send americans to a state farm in Kentucky
    if you didn’t have tuberculosis you will have
    aggravate you till you cough up the truth
    till you spill the beans on her
    a kind of maw-paw thing….
    you cannot remain happy without harming her

    Like

  3. multiplemichael

    “HOW TO BE A WEREWOLF”
    TIME EVAPORATES, THE MOOD CONSTANTLY CHANGING
    THAT DESCENT INTO HELL, NIGHT A SHROUD
    NO ONE CAN FIND OR RECOGNIZE YOU
    NOTHING IS WHAT IT SEEMS TO BE
    WITHOUT PAST OR FUTURE
    ONLY WILD JOY
    MURDER AND DEATH
    ECSTATIC FEELING MOMENTARY
    THE TOTAL DESCENT WEREWOLF CITY

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  4. multiplemichael

    POOR YOKO HAS LUBRICATED HER TONGUE
    RHYTHMICALLY BEATING HER ANCIENT ENEMIES
    TO SMOTHER THE SOUNDS OF THE AQUARIUM
    THAT SHE LIVES IN
    WHAT SHE THINKS ARE PUMPS
    ARE HER MECHANICAL LUNGS
    SHE STILL HAS YOUR DECORATIVE ARMADILLO
    THAT YOU GAVE HER FOR “HAPPY PEASANT DAY”
    THE ROUNDED END SHE MOISTENS
    A MOUNTING EMOTIONAL CRESCENDO
    AN EXPLOSION ONLY FEMALES KNOW
    HER CUT AND CANNON TOO
    YOU’VE SIGNED HER BLANKNESS
    DAZED BY THE TRUE LULLABY OF LUST
    YOU ARE THE SPRINGTIME OF HER LIFE
    SHE HAS STRAPPED HERSELF TO YOUR LEG
    SHE IS THE FEMALE PISTOL OF YOUR WEST
    “SHOOT ME, JOHNNY BOY”
    ABE AND I WAVE TO YOU FROM OUR AUTOMOBILE OF MORTALITY
    WE ARE BOTH BRUISED FROM THE LACK OF SHOCKS AND AIR PRESSURE
    I ADMIT THAT I TOUCHED HIS CAUCASION CHALK STICK
    I GOT WHITE ON MY HAND BUT THAT WAS THE LIMIT
    I’M NOT CONFUCIUS OR BUDDHA, I STILL SUBMIT TO THE NEW

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  5. multiplemichael

    an open book with a photograph of you touching a demon
    simultaneously fascinating and terrifying
    by the look of your animal-like brow
    you can anticipate the potential cruelties
    the sadistic black of life
    you do what you do
    to escape the black yourself
    you are a prized agent
    still standing

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the bad compass points south – things go down
      magnetic forces
      the limb
      gnarled ends
      impossible to be in two places at once –
      the belief in something that isn’t there – – turn
      left when you exit this town – religious fervour melts and the juice leaks down
      towards the schoolfactoryprison

      she reads the words then tries to forget but she found the evidence the picture in the frame with the fingerprints (with one finger missing) – find the four finger ghost

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      • multiplemichael

        four finger forbidden pleasure
        agonizing tensions until the release
        fantasy over commonplace
        locked in place
        grope, fumble, experiment
        the feel of actuality
        all the way
        a perfect fit
        in a predesigned way
        four finger artistic hand

        Like

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