so much here, and so much here to admire. thank you,
Bob. Sheila
--- Bob Brueckl <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
> Clouds, mountains, turbulence, coastlines
>
>
> Guttural, unicellular, holy cow, pipe down, bluish
> organ of  locomotion, deep bricky sunshine,
>
> to
> emit
> deep
> pink
>
> ghostless bleak smoke burnished, gutted, undimmed
>
> to delineate
> what is aerated,
> to aerate what
> is perforated
>
> brightly shed bulb of sound,
>
> eye
> orb
>
> infinite slant woodenly erected
>
> socket of
> nescience
>
> diminutive, flabby, subdued,
> impetuous, clumsy, unforeseen
>
> to abruptly soothe without emitting diverging
> raylike parts,
> dead bloom  nomenclaturally sunshiny
>
> skin mist
> shinned
>
> fractal flagella of night,
>
> devoice my
> voice box
>
> becloud the aurora nest,
> befog droplets of nighttime
> vibrations,  obnubilate
> the elastic shine of sunup,
> dilate the decaying  strictures
> of finicky dayspring, the
> wakeless blurs of
> perfused  unsound
>
> deep white bloom gauzily scratched, tibia --
> fritter away the lambent  effulgence of abrasive
> teguments --
>
> brick skin, discharge darting about,
> moulting transubstantiation,  metamorphosing
> into a caducous calyx, exuviate
> what is immaculately vivid, livid.
>
> I ash the blonde scratch.  I fractal the brick nest.
>  I daylight  the
> flagella.  I unknow the radiating fractals.  I
> bright the night  bloom.  I deep the
> air slant.  I throat the ash shine.
> I heinie  the throat ash.  I ash the throat shine.
> I corral the erected
> dead.  I mist the white.  I brick the infinite.  I
> transform the  scratches.  I
> scratch the coral daylight.
>
> My air I deep.
> My air I bloom.
> My air I bleak.
> My air I wooden.
>
> I suffuse.  I shed.  I shine.  I soft.  I  eyeball.
> I air my dead air.  My
> white ash I shine, dissipated.   My shine I slant,
> pullulated.
>
> I shit my dead air, skinless.  I shine my bloom
> shine disgorged.   I scratch
> the bleak eyeball, skin nicked.  I eyeball the
> shinny stub of  daylight.  I
> air the radiating gushes.  I eat the lustrous lotus
> mist  radiating morning
> suffused with blooms of inflected rinds.  I brick up
> the  shedding shine of
> transmuted contractions.  I fractal the blond erect
> smoky  sunshine.  I transmute
> the illimitable hypodermic syringe of the
> sempiternal spud.  I dim the tibia of
> gauze.
>
> To wake
> the dead
> in
> the dead
> of night,
>
> I larrup the waddling floating point of the animate
> esophagus, flagella
> whipping up a round, warped aether transversing
> efflorescence, niggling thaw
> pulverized,
>
> craw
> lair,
>
> ash a
> tissue,
>
> the
> limb
> twit
> cant
> tilt
>
> the
> air
> out,
>
> unplugged zephyr interspersed with the piddling
> effulgence of decoupled
> cuticles dabbling in toddling trances, diagonal
> auburn disconnects glistening
> until still less blonder massless flaxen piffling
> pharynxes are plugged  in.
>
> I eyeball the bloom deeply in the wooden air.
> I stupor the emptiness of  bedazed quibbles.
> I tingle the paddles of licked sensations, the
> fissures of  tears'
> contortions, the stung speech of texts twinging in
> shock, pneumatic  infringements
> riffling diagrams, the ditritus of pee, the yolk of
> glee, thighs'  meadow.
>
> I corrode the neon stoutness of smattering
> dissipations emptied of all
> errata, aorta gourds in rut, precariously baffled
> lumpen, thimble tangles  --
>
> I enter the apex of splintering tmesis, light nails
> stinking of dirty
> tongues, slit-vulgar vowels, little elongated
> tidbits of titbits, not one  tingling
> syllable, gravy of cyclops warping between
> articulatory diphthongal  platinum
> and the deeply awkward prattling in the
>
> shitless
> wind
>
> charring jarring penetrations up disintegrations
> insidiously obsessed,
> crimped clanging sounds being inappropriately
> interrupted, the perky wetter
> particulars of silence undiluted, indifferent
> convulsions smeared, eviscerated,
> fracturing assless
>
> discontinuances
> of dawn.
>
>
> --Bob  BrueckL
>
>
>
>
>
>

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