As/Is







8.10.2005


My Special Aztec Dressing Gown.

MY CRITIQUE IS THAT I KNOW
AND DO NOT BELIEVE...

the dressing gown

Leaves fall away tenderly
from the plan
of obsoulescence
and in the jade
senility
cringing
perfectly
tudor
sloping
radio
the section
of taste in trilobite

far away some towers
Vaux's Swifts
late night Portland
I am only in me a slang for meteor
@
s.o.b.bing cuttle
fish-nothing for use
you king's X
Y the soft gene crystal method
Z now
I've lost my soul
shoe on the dancefloor
some man is sneezing
holding a camera

obscuring
the deft
and nimble
states

where matter
in eulogy
perils
parading
though the long night
of the filter

Prada

the smallest orgasm of stars
spreads within a nebula of tired brains

an array of microwoofers
hovers in a pleasure-dome of XANADU_XENON:

"Love has no ending..."

but
ghostly bus drivers
milling around the abbatoir

petrify
thunderously

in their beaver-skin nose-skirts..