Start into sleep sleep the truism ‘frigidaire’
the emu ‘today’ kiss kiss poor plastinated Scotus:
which gosub homesick tight to the gut projection
fail fails to convince. Mr Bojangles eats dog,
tap shoes. Aghast at ‘The Dead Sea Experience’,
the number of the beast you dialed has not been
work works like a dream go to work on an edge go
pet a hairy flipchart are you receiving
over. Shame is her swimsuit-round manifesto, lime
mint soap up the wretched ball queen perfidious
sow / up for gonzo dog treat paddle-assed
hokum still still selling in Japan see adipose
four. That wrecking-ball trustafarian
guinevere trapped in the afternoon concrete
prairie flip flip six second glimpse of Duran Duran,
or the chemical wad that blinds the part-time
poodle valet. Gin and alfalfa mousse it’s for washing the
car with, or maybe Heimlich Manoeuvre’s the
name of a German porn director.
Are we asleep yet? How does the honeycomb
get in the hive? Now yellow round the tree
and trumpets shall sound (novelty goddamn
door chime funniest thing) your sheet of interests
and accumulations and multiplex whatnot kitty kitty
tube sox my but the LAPD are so
vulgar. What do you point to? Evidence
swig say vanilla essence burn up the hissy-fit
carpool lane like grease and slash or
lightning. Hands turn spin thrift uptake
inhibition every one wants to be
childlike. Script says ‘cheep cheep’, mother says
never wear diamonds to the ob-gyn we say
stow it. We saw Fanny By Gaslight it’s a
band you freakazoid. Nothing ventured nothing
earwax everyone stay stay calm the
millipede in the salsa what’s he doing the
backstroke slash-fic butterball spell spell
license as in driver’s license
as in rammed to the hilt on cranberry meth
stroke scrotal bouillabaisse up your chimney howdy
pardners. Free’s free. Free as the tawny doodad.
Free as a kite in the reckoning up of critical
influence using avoirdupois for the
craic dude huffing a dream from the bag the
milk came in and we have twenty-one
dogs and they’re all called Arson damn we
stand in the park ‘n’ shout Arson Arson
twilight verdigris thriftstore parakeet underscore
Jim Beam doobie doo Whitney’s an oreo
whore. Dionne’s wig’s on funny honey look at the
sky ha made you look. Let’s kick it.
Teenage girls always slit their wrists in the bath
week in week out you can set your
watch and Jesus comes like a gift in the
cereal. He’s a healthcare magnate. Sure you do. Sure
you do. Sure. It’s a matter of private conscience®.
Knife. Knife. What in the picture says knife. Where
you live that goes knife. Kissing his boyfriend’s eyelids
knife. Pride in authority / grace in deferral
knife. The climate deranged in Kyoto
matinee knife. Knife by the way of
leaves that fall and the boyfriend sleeping
barely near as adrenalin when the emergency comes.
How they will face their long-lost families, dearly.
- Chris Goode, No Son House [Barque, 2004] pp. 4-5
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