brainless blast squeezing sharp bones crushing glowing livers / logical red foam / I doze / split azure / singing on black mire / oblong eager pig
my ode to phallic bleeding joy
as big Bone pops in heavens
raping cosmogonist tits disconnecting your narcissistic circuits / rotting ego in juicy butt radiating steel dripping creamy dreams of infinitesimal anus cleaving golden skulls tearing my brain through fresh casts upon killing sweetness / drawing carmine jets / large schizoid knives
bits of howling viscera on blue skinned horizon / earwigs puking silver cockroaches / crippled throat
mind has to be shred / bursting the helpless eyes of the empirical world surging lightning curves to slash chronic nonsense and other rancid hopes cranking strings of guts over scarlet rivers
quartered satin thighs / wild pubic dreams kill stripping moon and make it spit its stillborn milk / legs slipping / fresh cracked ass
unbridled fury of … large eggs / winged sap blank slots and plump cherries while foul cerulean sky pours its atrocious light on hungry oranges
fluffy rectums purring at the bottom of other creamy roundness and
heady saliva of
schizo ginger girl
a radical blade extends its iced platinum
on sawn skulls —
erect bone breaking up heavens
puke their meaty screams
on lymphatic aphonia —
stillborn green sky
crippled fractal twisted smash
and my frightened glands
in ionic cracklings
slicing the synaptic song
of dismembered aesthetics —
bony phallic killing
Connection is rotting,
pouring its pixeled fever into the bowels of global death.
Breath is decaying
— Google is puking the void
of its dark cum.
leads the blank becoming
Tits and butt will take you online
to the algorithm
of your own corpse.
The obvious is atrocious.
Horror is life itself
warm knives in the sluggish night.
… … …
We cling to writing… trying not to end up in such naked misery… but misery catches up with you, and horror too.
Suddenly, poetry is over. It goes away to squirt elsewhere. The day is naked. Raw anxiety. Horror flows free, straight. Daylight splatters my face and I die by breathing.
For horror is life itself, flowing…
Warm blade in the throat of the night.