zur anwendung in der mundhöhle

me being with people
people seeming the rock.

just because your dad notes
deference doesn’t mean the rock
will rescind. absconding the tennis
court, swearing, you look to the future and
see the extension of the suffragette, bis hin zu
subjection. to DISMEMBER the violence
of a state as a blackhead, a head which
someone else has to wear… we thought the
only sensate left was the message shortening,
systematic victims, sacrificial lamb kebab, avec sharp sauce,
in your eye, burning all the way through to the sun.
you ask the god what’s left of the marinade. immagine
povero, podemos hacerlo. nos preguntamos si la
magia enferma, la enfermera nos atendará, en los
escombros, la playa rastreada, pequeños cuerpos, de niñeza,
escuadrónes de ladrillos, todo
perdido, los pedazos de pan, también robados. congenial to the
bourgeoisie I made myself, bien fabriqué, applied the vile
chose freedom, froze the cheese.
you take refuge in the cavity of the mouth. this
is the end of the world if you put it in latin. that’s
how you make the people disappear, their dangled or
cloistered appendages, upending the thrust of democracy.
Lack of lustre before the authorities, you strip
at the kitchen table, turn all of your flesh inside out and
we get the point.

Truth is telling the object
it does look good in this. The Hausarzt identifies another
symptom of realism: it doesn’t look good, sagt er. «Putain!»
you think. This thing has no observable gender, so, a good positivist,
you rubs it on your skin to see if it takes a sheen.
You smells it, you drinks it down and throws it up and the little bits rise in the cup,
they catalyse.
Saturnine vision, flaccid melancholia narrowing
the bronchial passages. You sold your labour and now you want it back
(typical rule of faust). But it belongs to all of us now, has become our web.
Your lover discovers, all this time you’ve been
working for the state, smuggling in aircraft parts to give them aerial supremacy,
giving up the names of your colleagues. They trusted you and for that they
lost your respect // Sex could be like that too, but it would be rough – Like,
how do you take a snapshot of a contradiction? How do you catch a lad
and tie it down? How do you solve a problem like Sharia? Hating
them intro hatred. IF somebody doubts your loyalty, kill someone else,
someone lower, and then kiss them. Kiss them listfully. Suffer the passion.
But, you’re still an exile even after they invite you back.
The exes catch in the skin.
Things remain in the gate.
Everyone turns up late, expecting everyone else to
turn up late.
Homeopathic //
wardroning //
Dumblife //
Leaking through the seams
and eating into the dermis. Caterpillars on stilts; all of them, sulking. Motzing us on,
mobbing us with their ‘love’.
Speaking with my lilted tongue, at the stroke of ten, looking for the remote control for
breakups, trading in dead batteries to join the team.
outside, the country you were born in is eating its pauvres,
which you assume is a kind of peach. deglacé,
es kann noch schief gehen. c’est toujours possible.

This entry was posted in adorno, art, expulsion, language(s), poetry, truth. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s