The Lower Half

lucrecia jenkins

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Fri, 17 Sep 2010 22:30:00 +0000

(lucrecia) 68 - Female - New Orleans, Louisiana:

Baby please get serious! Momma alway enjoy game when my rangers is playin. now, when you come get some cobbler enjoy game with momma! uh oh, don't make me laugh baby...thangs start slippin out when old person laugh too hard.

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THE HOT SEXY EROTIC OIL CHANGE

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Fri, 17 Sep 2010 18:21:00 +0000

Angela Genusa

Follow the instructions carefully!
The naked hot sexy women engine
has an unusual oil filter located
on top photo gallery of the engine.
Remove the engine air intake hose.
That's the mature adult toons oil filter
canister just to the right of, and below,
the end of the mature lingerie
models open air intake tube.
Use a proper size wrench to remove
the canister lid. This russian sexy
escort ladies engine uses
a special filter cartridge.

Add the hot sexy new oil. Locate
the college coeds oil filler cap
on the asian erotic valve cover.
I've seen newbies pour motor oil in
everything from the gorgeous
european women master brake
cylinder to the hot babes radiator cap.
Make sure you have located the
black hotties oil filler cap. Remove
the oil filler cap. When pouring the
girls sexy wrestling oil, you would
be wise to use a funnel between the
oil can and the smoking hot Swedes
valve cover oil filler hole.

How much hot sexy oil should you add?
Look in your car's books on erotic
owner manual. Most engines have
a capacity of four or five xxx-rated
adults-only quarts of oil. Don't overfill
the crank case. When you run the
engine the extra angelina jolie sexy
nude wallpaper oil will be
blown out through the PCV valve,
possibly stalling your adult bookstore
engine. Tip: If you don't know the oil
capacity of the engine, add four nude
Penelope Cruz nude movie scenes
quarts, then check the oil level, if it's a quart
low, add gay teen stories another quart.
Replace the hot sexy erotic oil filler cap.

Start the Engine. Yes, I know,
I said there were only three hot sexy
chicks stripping steps. You're finished,
this is not really a "step". Start the sexy
young latina engine and make sure
the oil warning light goes off. Look
under the sexy Chinese babe in bikini
vehicle to make sure hot sexy oil is
is not leaking out. Warning! Do not
over-tighten the hot sexy erotic oil filter!

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Ladder

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Fri, 17 Sep 2010 02:13:00 +0000

Gary Barwin

you get out of bed
your penis has been replaced
by a ladder
you drink a cup
of cold coffee
then begin to scream
droplets of saliva
collect on the framed picture
of your mother
each of your tongue's
worm-like halves
slip out
snake their way into a nostril
though you can hardly breathe
you order a pizza:
double cheese, mushrooms
green peppers, anchovies
and yes
the blood of a boiled, skinned baby
large order please
only joking:
a diet Pepsi and some garlic bread
thanx
you think to yourself
will my trousers fit?
how will i chew?
what will my father say
climbing towards the roof
on his brother's penis?

down in the street
there are little men
dancing
their assistants hold
sombreros
dour looks clouding their faces
their green uniforms
are faded
and they have only just now
begun to clap
family relations are so complicated
you say
swinging your penis into the bathroom door

.

Meet My Cock

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 15:34:00 +0000

Geof Huth

I sleep with my cock outside my body.
I sleep with my cock
just in case I need it.
(I never know when I might need my cock,
so it is good to have it around.)

If I see my doctor, when I see my doctor, I ask him,
“Can my cock really be this color and still work?” And he says,
“That depends on what you want to do with it.”

I think I would like to be a writer
some day
and write with my cock in the snow
and write with yellow ink through the snow all the way to the frozen earth.

I think I would like to be an artist
and paint with my cock
rub it in my palette and make any color I might want
and paint a picture of a woman in a yellow dress
resting on a rock beside an abyss you could only hear.

I must enter my cock gently
with a toothpick or a straightened paperclip slipped
into my urethra
gently because my cock she is a virgin even though I am not.

Sleep is impossible because my cock sleeps during the day
and he talks all night.
He talks all night because he is scared of the dark.

“Don’t put me,” he sometimes pleads,
“in a cunt again. Please, don’t put me in a cunt again.”
But I never listen. I have bought myself earplugs
so I can sleep. And I’ve become deathly afraid of sunlight myself.

She polishes my cock until
it is smooth and red and glistening.
She polishes my cock until
it leaks, and sometimes it leaks drops
of cum, and sometimes blood.
I worry that my cock might be too large.
But she says, “No, not at all.”
I am relieved.

Should my cock bend slightly to the left?
Should its head be always exposed?
Should its underside be peppered with blackheads?
Should it drip down my leg after I piss?
Should it become so hard that it hurts?
Should it become so hard that it leaks?
Should it pulse and redden with the beat of my heart?
Should it always be lonely?
Should it be ignored?

Is that why people ignore it?
No-one ever talks to me about my cock.
I think they don’t know I have one.
But I do.

Last week was a bad week for me
because I had lost my cock, or thought I had.
I searched in my closet, but no cock. I searched
under my bed, but no cock. I even searched the kitchen
and climbed in the rafters to look for it. Then I heard her
laughing, and I knew she had hid it
in her cunt, and she said to me,
“You would lose your cock if it weren’t bolted to your body.

And it’s not!”

She didn’t give it back to me until the morning.
I think she is jealous of my cock.

I try to make my cock useful.
Otherwise, all it would do is piss and fuck
and sometimes sweat and smell.
I have taught it to sing sea shanties
because the seamen love such songs.
I have taught it to balance on the head of a pin
because my cock is an angel to me.
I have also taught it to hide
but hiding is sometimes nothing more than fucking
and my cock complains,

“I don’t want to fuck anymore. I’m
an artist. I want to weld sculptures, I want
to build giant earthworks that intimidate the public,
I want to be a dancer. Jeté! Jeté battu! Jeté entrelacé!”

He is small and his voice is squeaky, so it is funny
when he gets excited and yells such things
in his tiny tiny voice.

My cock wants me to take her everywhere.
But I am not my cock’s keeper.
If I brought her along, she would just get in the way
if I met any girls.
(If you know what I mean.)

My cock is embarrassed that he is bald
and doesn’t own a comb.
He wants to wear a hat, but he doesn’t own one
of those either. He’s trying to buy himself
Rogaine, but he’s too self-conscious
to do it. He wants me to buy him Rogaine.
“I’d buy you Rogaine,” he says, “if
you start losing all your hair.”

I doubt it.
(They’ll think it’s for him anyway.)

Someone wrote a book about my cock. It was called
The World’s Best Cock Book. I’m not sure if
that means that my cock is the best cock
or if it means that the book is the best book about cocks.
But it has good recipes.
I like the one for cock-a-leekie soup best.

Sometimes my cock gets sad or lonely,
and I have to pet her. She rises to the touch like a cat.
Sometimes I think I hear her purring, but
if I pet her too much she throws up
and everyone is embarrassed.

I think of my cock as a long-stemmed flower
resting alone in a vase
leaning against the inside of the vase.
Sometimes it droops.

My cock is demanding.
My cock is pushy and obnoxious.
My cock is fat and ugly.
My cock smokes cigars and stubs them out
in the yellowest egg yolks.
My cock has a first name but not a last name.
He doesn’t know who his father is, but his mother
calls her Bingo.
If he is happy, he yells, “Bingo!”
He likes to eat individual grains of rice and then declare,
“Oh, I am too full to eat anything else.”
If she eats too much, if she makes herself too happy,
she will then throw up. My cock is bulimic,
and I can’t get her to stop.

My cock hates herself.
My cock is shy and hides inside a hand or mouth
or inside cunt or rectum until everyone else has left.
When she does this, she usually throws up.
She is too shy for the world.
That is why I leave her at home if I go out on the town.

My cock likes to make me believe
a girl likes me until I make a fool out of myself
by talking to her.
My cock thinks this is funny.
I do not like him for that.

I built a marble replica of my cock.
At least I call it a marble statue.
Because I don’t now what else to call it.
It’s made out of marbles.
I glued them together.
It doesn’t work very well, so I tell my cock it is
the perfect copy of him.

My cock is not a dancer.
But she dances whenever she can.

22 May 2010, Schenectady, NY
Revised: 22 May 2010, Schenectady, NY

.

UNDERWEAR IN A BOX

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Thu, 26 Aug 2010 15:53:00 +0000

Alex Gildzen

Galanos black bikini briefs
Owner:
Alex Gildzen
History:
purchasd in Greece in june 1992
worn at Bill Clinton’s 1st inauguration
worn as 1999 became 2000
used in print #2 in “01/01/01”
last worn 25 sept 2000 while seeing Clinton for final time as president

Jockey pink boxer briefs
Owner:
D. K.
History:
left with other personal items in feb 1998 when he went to St. Anthony’s Monastery to become a Greek Orthodox monk

Old Navy patternd boxers
Owner:
unknown
History:
discoverd in rippd condition at site of Robert Smithson’s “Partially Buried Woodshed” on Kent State University campus in may 2002

South Park boxers
Owner:
Jimmy Schrader
History:
worn as he cleand rooms at Sunburst Inn in Phoenix
removd & given to Gildzen in feb 2003
worn by Gildzen while writing “this constant fingering” on his blog in nov 2005

Hanes gray button-fly boxers
Owner:
Gary Sielaff
History:
left in Gildzen’s guest bathroom in aug 2004

Gap khaki boxers
Owner:
unknown
History:
discovered outside Gildzen’s bedroom window in Cottage L at San Vicente Inn in West Hollywood in sept 2004
used in “Bridge Over Arroyo #4” in nov 2004

Fruit of the Loom gray boxers
Owner:
unknown
History:
discovered in Gildzen’s locker at his Santa Fe gym in dec 2005

Soccer-pattern flannel boxers
Owner:
John (time share salesman in Palm Springs)
History:
given to Gildzen at Inn Exile in feb 2007

Black mesh button-fly boxer briefs
Owner:
Montgomery Maxton
History:
“bought at target in cincinnati, worn many times in manhattan hotel rooms, but never worn on my heart”
sent to Gildzen as a Xmas gift in dec 2007

Fruit of the Loom black boxer briefs
Owner:
unknown
History:
found in men’s locker room in Grand Chateau in Las Vegas in july 2008

Towncraft patternd boxers
Owners:
Al Gildzen
Alex Gildzen
History:
bought by Sal Kovach along with 3 other pairs for Gildzen Sr. who was buried in one pair
brought back to Santa Fe where they became outerwear for his son
last worn at Coral Sands in Hollywood in aug 2010 where Gildzen was
photographd wearing them at door of room 215 by nite clerk Pablo morning after a final cruise around balcony

.

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 20:52:00 +0000

Juan Manuel Marquez

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 16:31:00 +0000

Harold Jaffe

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 02:08:00 +0000

vi

Like most serial murderers in this day and age, Sean is handsome. Maybe handsome is not the right word. Videogenic. That's how he charms those redheads. Chiseled cheekbones, straight blond long hair, designer stubble, small ears close to his head. And that crooked grin. That's the capper. Those white, straight teeth. Law enforcement speculates that it's a bridge since being on the road like he is he wouldn't be able to brush and floss regularly to keep those choppers healthy white.

He's not that tall, about six feet, but he's wiry strong with broad shoulders, long sinewy arms, real defined abs, and muscular thighs from grippin' his Harley.

The tattoos begin at the back of his neck and motorcross down his body to his ankles. He even has a tattoo on his penis: the outline of his home state: Texas, with the name "Jody" inside Texas. Jody was one of his early girlfriends who disappeared and whose remains were never found.

She had red cropped hair.

Inside the "o" of Jody there's a tattooed scorpion. Which has puzzled law enforcement.

Inside the upcurved tail of the scorpion is tattooed the word "Mom." Like most serial killers Sean loved his mom who died of colon cancer when he was real young. He hated his stepdad who abused and molested him.

I have a feeling you're wondering how he can have such a complexly interesting tattoo on his penis. He just happens to be hung like a horse. Plus he's uncut.

Which is great to listen to Nine Inch Nails with.

I'm talkin' 'bout Sean the serial murderer.

[From the story "14 Ways of Looking at a Serial Killer," in the collection Straight Razor (Northwestern University Press, 1995)

Red Speedo --Fort Lauderdale 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 04:15:00 +0000

Alex Gildzen

Tina Newberry

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 14:02:00 +0000

I live in South Philly and used to be young, sporty, and lively. Now I'm old, decrepit, and complain a lot.

I got an art education at various places and wound up in South Philly. I teach at local schools and shop at the Acme. I paint in my spare time while watching TV.

After an expensive and extensive art education, I became a cleaning lady. This helped me hone my skills with sweeping strokes. None of which are actually in my paintings. It's the thought that counts [...]

Branded, 20" x 10", 2005.
"Branded, scorned as the one who ran. What do you do when you're branded and you know you're a man?"

Dress-Ups, 17" x 10", 1997.
"Wearing pantyhose makes me feel like a transvestite."

[More]

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shitmydadsays

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 14:56:00 +0000

.

“You touched that god damned biscuit. Bullshit, I saw you touch it….I don’t give a shit about your evidence, this isn’t a court of law."

"It's just a fucking june bug, calm down. Jesus Christ, what happens when something bigger than a testicle attacks you?"

"The dog don't like you planting stuff there. It's his backyard. If you're the only one who shits in something, you own it. Remember that."

"When I used to live in Los Angeles, I used to step in human feces a lot."

[More]

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If I Had a Penis

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 21:32:00 +0000

Lynn Behrendt

If I had a penis I’d wear it outside in cafés.
If I had a penis I would definitely worship it.
If I had a penis I’d pamper it.
If I had a penis, and it was un-cut, I’d play with the skin all day.
If I had a penis I would enjoy earning 22% more than I normally do.
If I had a penis I’d research first then ask on a public website where your grandmother would see.
If I had a penis I wouldn’t be destructive.
If I had a penis I would kill myself, they’re disgusting.
If I had a penis I’d take it to parties.
If I had a penis I would totally hang shit off it.
If I had a penis I’d run to my mother, comb out the hair, and compare it to brother.
If I had a penis I would love that penis in ways in which no one has.
If I had a penis I would probably never get much done.
If I had a penis the size of a coke can.
If I had a penis I would be the Steve McQueen of urinating.
If I had a penis I would treat people like crap, cheat, lie and all the while be loved for it.
If I had a penis I would be taken a hell of a lot more seriously.
If I had a penis and that penis were infected, I would be more worried about the scaly, itchy, oozing rash than what it “smelled” like.
If I had a penis you know what I would do with it.
If I had a penis I would shoot it like a gun. That would be my plan.
If I had a penis or if I thought I had a penis or something like that.
If I had a penis first I’d chop it off then I’d name it Winnie the Strangely Proportioned.
If I had a penis he’d wear a bow tie.
If I had a penis my penis would be friends with everyone.
If I had a penis I wouldn’t let anyone but God tamper with it.
If I had a penis it’d be named Little Juan.
If I had a penis I’d call him big Jim and the twins.
If I had a penis I’d name him Zorg Thrustor.
If I had a penis it would be named Captain James Fitzhew.
If I had a penis I’d name it Dick Van Dike because I’m destined to be misunderstood.
If I had a penis I would name it Darth Penis because I think penises look like they are adorned with Darth Vader helmets.
If I had a penis I would probably be jobless.
If I had a penis I’d be heartless.
If I had a penis I would never ever EVER put it against a shower door.
If I had a penis I’d rub it on a scratching post first.
If I had a penis that ejaculated money.
If I had a penis I would use it to write my name in butter.
If I had a penis I too would be shooting demons out of it to sell on ebay.
If I had a penis I would have to ask you to call me an insensitive prick.
If I had a penis perhaps I would care.
If I had a penis I’d get to be funny too.
If I had a penis I would use it as a donut/horse shoe/peach ring holder.
If I had a penis I would slam it in the door.
If I had a penis I would put it in a jar of peanut butter.
If I had a penis two-thirds the size of my body.
If I had a penis I would name it after famous poets like Byron or Shelley, wait, not Shelley, that’s a girl’s name.
If I had a penis I would want people to call it Mayor.
If I had a penis and a mustache.
If I had a penis, which I don’t, I wouldn’t wear that thing.
If I had a penis then I wouldn’t have needed those bananas.
If I had a penis I could urinate all over anyone who tried to attack me in a public bathroom.
If I had a penis I would try to fold it and see if it hurts.
If I had a penis we’d be in trouble.
If I had a penis like that I would have to get the rest of my body in shape in order to handle the added physical stress.
If I had a penis, one of those strange harmless-looking things swinging back and forth like a baby elephant trunk.
If I had a penis I would hate the dangling feeling.
If I had a penis I wouldn’t want anyone coming anywhere near it with a knife or a scalpel or whatever.
If I had a penis I would most definitely refer to it as “the spear of destiny.”
If I had a penis full of metal, I wouldn’t be making the statement, “Hey, look at my penis full of metal!”
If I had a penis I would curl a pearl necklace around it and all the publishers would line up.
If I had a penis and red hair.
If I had a penis I wouldn’t post it online.
If I had a penis 58 inches long I would have to learn to be creative.
If I had a penis I’d have surgery to have the horrid thing removed.
If I had a penis twin it would definitely be Jerry.
If I had a penis, I thought, I’d be assisting Pierre Monteaux.

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A Florida woman was duped into changing diapers

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 23:02:00 +0000

and providing care for a man she met through Craigslist who feigned disabilities. Turns out the man who hired Janet Schulte to look after an adult brother with diminished mental capacity was the same guy she bottle-fed and treated like a child for 3 months.

Janet Schulte believed the man when he told her by phone that his 40-something, disabled brother needed a caregiver who could bottle-feed him and change his diapers.

"I feel violated," Schulte said, sharing her story because she said the man has deceived other women and will try again. "I feel disgusted."

Investigators and prosecutors have refused to pursue charges, saying Schulte was paid [$600 a week] and agreed to provide the care.

"I consented to change his diapers, but I legitimately thought this man needed help," she said. "How can that not be a crime for him to come into my house and expose himself?"

Schulte said he never broke character, and on the phone always gave an excuse when she tried to meet his "brother."

She and her husband got suspicious and found the man out after subtle behavior changes and a few late payments.

[Source]

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The Joydick,

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 16:00:00 +0000

a wearable haptic device for controlling video gameplay based on realtime male masturbation:

[Sent by Iain Keith]

"motherfucker with gonarea,"

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 23:28:00 +0000

as found at the Anacostia stop of the Washington Metro, 7/2/09:

Tie One On

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 17:41:00 +0000

Alex Gildzen

Hot Blonde Brazilian Bank Teller Amoeba

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Mon, 18 May 2009 04:12:00 +0000

Lanny Quarles

I am here again..

Amoeba breaking wind,
non-upgraded, fixed lumbar bmw seat
hole filled with black plug
[wink]

I am Amoeba
hear me roar.

I could paint a really cool picture
anytime I am in Starbucks shopping.
Like, I am having this fantasy about a
Brazilian bank-teller

she's a bank teller

blonde amoeba

tube-top

I'm cashing checks
and she sounds like
some 70's comedian
talking about her pussy

I'm all

"lens-cap"
"hyper-procedure"
"matter-ghetto-utopia"

She's all

"pussy-mafia"
"I saw your BMW.."
"Tube-Top"

and that is when the

Shiva-Turkey-Molecule example
burns through the post-man's eyelids

It's like the postman
who always rings twice
has returned to Starbucks

in his mermaid-mobile

Where I am still sitting there
with the Advil crowd

trying to paint this picture
on a bulldozer scoop in the parking lot

a painting of this obscure
French poet of the 17th century
not Ronsard

this poet who hangs out by the fire
spitting

In America
people don't like the French
nor being told
that humans are like

Amoebas with internal crutch-assemblages

They are already all like

"my manatee"
"super quantum"
"spin brigades are doubling"

and then I am just so
like into Starbucks,
my Wives of Merry Windsor knots,
these memories of woodchucks

It's a huge hangover I get
from being wet inside
like a bank teller

I'm all, like I say something inane like
"He's a professor.."
when she shows me her

comedic principle..

.

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Thu, 14 May 2009 16:09:00 +0000

[Collected by Bob Bobster, with this caption, "Physical examination of aviation recruits at the Episcopal Eye & Ear Hospital, Washington, D.C. Bones, joints, flat foot, etc., 1918. From the New York Public Library.]

Condom Song in Telugu

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Wed, 06 May 2009 15:41:00 +0000

from Nrityanjali Academy, Andhra Pradesh, India:

Lysistrata defending the Acropolis, 1929

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Wed, 06 May 2009 06:36:00 +0000

Aubrey Beardsley

Curios

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Tue, 05 May 2009 18:09:00 +0000

collected by Bob Bobster:

[1922, from the Library of Congress]

[Source]

[Priest of Bacchus & Attendant, 1814, from the Library of Congress.]

[The Pinochle girl, 1928, from the Library of Congress.]

Late Weather

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 06:43:00 +0000

Linh Dinh

Dorothea Tanning

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 02:34:00 +0000

Sleeping Nude, 1969-70. Mixed media. 385 x 1089 x 535 mm.

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Excerpt from “Notes on Demolition of a House,” from Living Rooms

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 02:49:00 +0000

David Wolach

Superset of Objects, Subjects: Hallway&Bathroom/Lower Body, Floorplan

A, tibialis anticus muscle/interior wall}{B, the long saphena vein/extension cord}{C, tibialis posticus muscle/outer wall}{D, the inner malleolus/drywall}{E-H, muscles of the leg/moldings (shit painted)}{I, venae comites/outline of things (night)}{K, posterior tibial artery/inlaid shelf (4x7)}{L, posterior tibial nerve/precaution at a certain hour}{M, the tibia/floor (shit tile}{N, the fibula/ceiling}{O, the fascia/wallpaper (not paisley)}]

Hallway&Bathroom/Lower Body, An Architecture

american
endocrine
system
filters in binary C++
slowed by
confessional poetry
fetish
scalpel
guided by

1) historical precedent or
2) armchair muhajadeen

enter the kidney deeply & pick
your title at random
randomizer got salad shooter
home-a-rama makeshift other
clutter & title & chances are
historical precedent
will fortify the walls of our [organs] living
theater

enter the rectum deeply & pick
your title at random
randomizer - got salad shooter
home-a-rama makeshift other
clutter & title & chances are
historical precedent
fuck itself again

(relaxation, amplitude >16mz)

rind round the spines & gutters
of the ischia

“won’t go much deeper than”

line B

drawn from

the anus      as is

line A

as are      lines      D

E

F      etc

gerald stern?
billy collins?
loop of bowel?
3 different volumes of robert frost?
herniated groin?
necrotic striations at the right upper tibialus?
three thousand clams for 15 min “visit” w/o happy ending

On the bowel

Cashews are now, and forever will be, your enemy. Spiteful, that churning is best thought of something not to think about. Prepare yourself for long stays in a small room, one chair, watery explosive diarrhea imported from Shanghai, and mirrors that must be preemptively covered for Shiva. Take this as the will to nap or pray, nap and pray, whatever suits. Distention is attractive during all circus acts. Think of strange crushes, those few citizens of our superb population who have funhouse mirrors for eyes, olfactory glands teetering on non-existent. What goes up must come down. What goes down might come up. This kind of near-symmetry is beautiful, were “beauty” a term definable.

the prostate lies like new money

we piss [blood] pleasantries as denial
approaches

infinity

pain is a urinal in a coffee

table book

talk is the language of eidos

scalpel

the language of

gressos

still deeper

get to the bottom

of the bottom

of the bottom

In my efforts to restore his equanimity, I had forgotten my broom and dust-pan, lying in the middle of the floor; forgotten John's big boots, not only on the lounge, but directly on one of Jane's most exquisite tidies; forgotten—actually forgotten—the baby, and was treating my disturbed husband in genuine ante-matrimonial style, when, of all things to happen at this very crisis, in marched Sister Jane and her cavalier!

“Getting to his bottom”

“Get out”

“Wait, get in here I like your style”

“Apprehensive wand feeler”

On the Reproductive System

Do not reproduce. If reproduction has already occurred, seek immediate advice from your horoscope. Realize that Benjamin’s inaccuracy was only in degrees, and due almost entirely to a perverse hopefulness. Your spawn will have auras, and these auras are named Genocide, Why Daddy, and Still Birth. And when from television you parrot that you did not know that your condition could have led to your E.D., you’re either lying or an idiot. This, beyond all quick fixes, pill popping and knee-jerk purchase of large all-terrain vehicles, must be discussed with your physician. Also: the option of perversion is now an acceptable option, and as such, is void of any taboo, which might have led to your E.D. Also: your E.D. might have led to your condition. Do not discuss this with your physician, as, finally, your physician might have led to your E.D. Q.E.D.

to the attaching kitchen to the E to the talk talk talk
to the remarked on talk(shows) in a waiting place

wheel
birch
dendrite

to the malleoli to the sheaths for the several
to the extensor tendons to the bankrupt & wet to the house that thins
to the front of our joint

____________________________
1 12 Steps to Kubla Kahn

1. easement of pain
2. loss of self-rule
3. habitual unrestraint
4. devolution
5. narrative gained in the “Vision of Sudden Death” !!!
6. ninety grains a day
7. husband doctor = good
8. causes sleep
9. gives rise to nausea
10. leaves him sufficiently wretched
11. diarrhea explosive watery intermittent genius followed by
12. genius fiat bloating vomit and shit simultaneous
13. deepening of some lines and the erasure of others but
14. disturbances which come from the poet sober = same same same

“My joint”

“A joint joint”

“A joint custody battle over the falling C D tower of babble”

“The stalling shower”

“The experimental treatment of you in the shower”

“The experimental treat of you”

[cunt/cock/exfoliate/trim/takeoff/cut/ad vice]

two layers
superficial & deep
achilles & boar
if the if had no condition
than kareoke

2 Excerpts from “ReDrawing Rooms,” from Living Rooms

Strategies for Ass Kissing With Benefits

from Prefab Eulogies

“I am a brochure.”

“But be honest, adorable and fucking are management skills in certain circles
that diagram well.”

“Secretary me again, this time with inhibition.”

A Bit of Information Regarding The Dialog 1:

Reading Kristeva beckons ethereal magnitudes despite methodology lacking that ice Wittgenstein slashed at dawn with his own lurking biases

“Play well, lover. Face of sand

sweetens talking under

the buzzard trees of Detroit

Trenton

Peoria. My nugget is curled inside

post-industrial facial rigidity. How else

could we ever advertise you? Fever embellishments,

rubber gloves, cute thronging stutter, ekphrastic name calling. Your

hot candles of aesthetic pluralism, how they burn me.”

A Bit of Information About The Dialog (2) & Why I Chose to Shift It To Verse 1:

Our mutual enemies moving in those certain circles, wheels for our shiny awesome vehicular off the line vroom vroom brochure brochure. Sontag cannot possibly save us. We must hurry, and begin with wishes for no discernible end—and also it might be good to avoid interpreters fyi

.

Crimen

noreply@blogger.com (Linh Dinh) — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 13:54:00 +0000