expurgeth quaint puce'f taint'd groan in to fetish.
On 10/12/05, [EMAIL PROTECTED] <
[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
I Hate Hippies
"no, no, no, I say, our children are not our future; we are. the biggest mistake of the radical 60s is the current insistence on the generation model - that 60s radicals began what another generation can learn from, can carry on, can critique. the world is a displaced continuum, miasma of disparities - not a coherent structure of divided lineage. the truth of a man's or a woman's thought does not age, is never outmoded; the truth is always already present, always unaccountable. when a torch is passed, the light is out; when a torch is lit, it is lit for all." _Alan Sondheim_
turn in thy grave, till thou knockst on the next.
larvae-musculature erupteth, and since
worm luncheon abutteth worm luncheon, flex
surgeth, till the light-rins'd flinch from death's grimace.
yo! flow up, thou funny sort of penance,
maggot-mutton spasm'ng at its best pulse,
th'soles of church-goers in their innocence.
nudg'd by the grume of thy vomitous mulch,
matter budgeth matter, yet po'ers lurk in gulfs,
gravy bogs shimmer with ribcages turning
in ribcages like cogs, the slough ploughs itself,
but snuff-mongers keep white to'ers, far from churning,
maybe none may touch. maybe dominos don't crutch.
yet turn in your graves. hypocrites. you hippies. you cunts.
