.no... i'm pretty sure, that prior to hearing... glitter's rock and roll part 2... oh sure... if any of these citations were my favorite... anything but the sound of a congregations of humming farts and echoes... the trusted: self-help guru mantras... the what ifs of what nots... and knots... period pieces of picked up... and all of which... no... not even :wumpscut: bunkertor 7 - vomito *****'s fall of an empire... what radio station are you listening to? the kind that might also play 13th floor elevators' you're gonna miss me... somehow they'll be playing the black angels' young men dead... well if there's a radio station that does that... i'm gonna do the next best thing to compensate the feminists burning their bras... i'll burn my ******* vinyls! but... i can't see that on the horizon: any time soon!

anything by frank zappa...
or... iggy pop...

           and out of the bag
those stand-out tracks...

           fat white family -
        whitest boy on the beach...

wolf alice - silk...

              slaves - cheer up london...

scot the braille-reader...
which could be a name for a band's
name...
more like scotty the whipped-lock
baron...
or just scotty the braille-reader...

redder meat than buffalo steak...
a streak of tartare...
bitten by a dozen...
by a dozen: and none of them
are mosquitos...

for all the whipped cream:
sacrilege of the sacred...
beelzebub the lord of the flies...
my debaser...
my rhythm guitar on
white stripes' seven nation army...
my: this whiskey bottle
just went to heaven...

ms. amber um-um and all
those leftover yummy-crumbs
and slurps of a slush-puppy
sequence...

nirvana and sonic youth:
our lady peace...

             obviously the pixies...
the people of the sticks...
       the lesser inquiring montage
of inquisitive bums...

the nuns of beirut...
         the kola-kool kids of sunday
school mandarin...

                that! john peel epitaph.

***** boots: ariel clean socks!

       mud! rummaging in...
clay and custardo: mantra of a north
korean commando!

small elephant! big mouse!

              mahler digs ****...
mozart only does marzipan oral!

well... if beelzebub is the lord of
**** happens...
jesus, oh hey-zeus and christian...
who's the lord of the mosquitos?
who needs as much blood
and doubly as much wine?

the real miracle came when:
he turned the water into wine...
apparently no miracle
when he turned wine into blood...
the miracle: i'm pretty sure...
he turned the water into wine...
but... never mind...
he's still the lord of the mosquitos...

sugar kane and ***** boots...
anything on in utero:
the lesser part of me is still
struggling with that whole:
in vitro...

               imagine the birth of
a vampire... a blood-clot pandemic...
a romance of vampire...
that ol' h.i.v. riddled drag queen...
the vampire is either...
is a vampire an anemic or...
a haemophiliac?

                     the bad blood: ministry...
fear factory: linchpin or
zero signal...

          KMFDM - juke joint jezebel...
'i'm am the city that will rise'...

                vex'd: citations of blade runner...
i want more... life... ******...
the good old days of donny the dub and stepper...
precarious strawberries...
better... precarious strawberry harvest!
nuance: all is pink...

       ha ha...
               i'm the madman and all i did:
please don't let the draconian hogs...
oh... look... youngsters on parole...
coughing into the faces of the elderly...
n.h.s. ambulances found with nails stuck
in tires... moving slower than...
slu------- -gs pour some salt on them...
watch them sizzle in the sun...
hell... find a toad... smear some lipstick
onto it... let's wait for the princess...
no princess in 10 minutes...
set the neon-green burp alight...

as i was told by two conspiring sadist
peform this torture chamber in
the open... their excuse was:
fairy tales are gay... none of them are true...
we'd much prefer to be told the mundane
truth first... to later find escape in daydreams
than be fed the worse kind of virus disease
with santa...
      
        i just wished they stayed on
the middle ground...
         if all the would be sadists could work
in meat-processing factories...
too cute to be a cat:
or a dog... a cow can't whimper from
both the pain of the pain inflicted
and all that heap of attaching points
of being your extension of it being petted...
you herd cows...
you herd sheep... you can't exactly herd
dogs...

  you can't exactly keep or put a leash
on a cat.. you shouldn't really put a dot
above an ıota... or ȷanıce...
ı'm pretty sure the full-stop declared ıt:
we would lıke the questıon mark (?)
and the exclamatıon mark (!) to keep their
dots...

then again... my delights galore...
seeing two sadist conspire...
they were quiet open about it...
smear some lipstick onto a frog...
and set it ablaze...

       i do wonder... do i have enough
metal-******* capacity to draw that one
out from my ******* of malnourished imagination
or whether: yes... this really happened...
and...

   i got away with: adam and the ants...
prince charming...

and some duran duran...
  and some the cure and some depeche mode...
and... she must be in her 40s... nearing her 50s...
and she would be an auntie for me...
and no...

     that (out of the ashes rmx) of type o negative's
blood and fire...
    less the bat-curse and more that
resurrected crow...
     of no -man suffix to give him a marvel:
mar-vel: marvelous-veal? entry...

traci lords - control
        sepultura - roots ****** roots...
    orbital - halcyon...
           faithless - woozy...
                     geezer - the invisible...
sister machine gun - burn...

             *****'s day out - what U see...

and everything, everything i might want
to hate about a milkman's son...

there's too much music to look-out
for any sort of in-crowd...
one mention of:
in the court of the crimson king...

sergei prokofiev: crusaders in pskov...
or... alexander nevsky - the battle of the ice...
holst: an ode to death...
               death that great *****-**** or something?

death that ******* into a tissue
and a baptism after and all prior:
on the throne of thrones and from that
the great debate: was it genocide
will it be ******...
eggs without yoke?
     is that the "debate"...
or is that: one poultry abortion a day...
keeps the cholesterol at bay...
and of course the apple...
to combat the dementia of:
never / not out of Eden...
with or without the hebrew poetic route
of congesting a period of time
to mark out: the better parts
of what's still memorable...
before the acid of humanity audacity
and outright stupidity...
  does the second half of the erosion...

foals' - my number...
           foster the people - sit next to me...
anything by: cage the elephant...

!!! - chk chk chk (strange weather, isn't it?) -
jump back...

the velvet underground -
all of tomorrow's parties...

kyuss - demon cleaner...
  
     just saying... it's hardly expected...
this is the sort of music i'd hear...
if i didn't collect records?
on a whim... this brvo delta d.j.: good yarn!
of whittle amsterdam would
somehow spin... a wooden shjip's:
flight?

        wow: oh wow now that's my first
summary of: really?!

the historical argument for the accelerated
whims of balding men
in the harems of sheikhs...
that they really are the ******* emblems
of horses but otherwise...
the castrated wind-sacks of *****
when it comes to pedigree cat or
dog breeders willing a monopoly...

some come with the gories: and ghost rider...
there's just too much and there's
also "too much"...
sputnik 'nick of time of the candy-floss
barbed wire when you just sat
through a sobering visit to the dentist...

you will count your pearls...
and that tongue...
that mollusk of yours...
  well: wriggle wiggle wriggle and high-brow
forward through...
to the base of the bull's eye...

because by then: counting to 1
is the only arithmetic that's worth anything...
the vice barons - fuzzy 'n' wild...

trevor something - into your heart...
ulver - utriese...
boy harsher - country girl EP...
primitive knot - ******* of brutalism...
years of denial -
film maker -
beat bizarre...

                   boris brejcha...
skip james - hard times killing floor blues...

spirit - the twelve dreams of dr. sardonicus...
never mind...
anything about vietnam...
c. c. r.: running through the jungle...

                    sam cooke and:
                             that knock-knock music...
heard once... never to be heard again...

pulp? this is *******... or we love life?
rammstein contra radiohead?
or is that all about elvis costello?
         tiresome the cool...
        but beyond reaching 70 and your language
is still as practical as everyday
of charles bukowski...
without any of those complications
of the comfort-riddled life...
which can always allow for an ink
and some... paper...
but then: what are guilty pleasures
by then?

        talking? thinking?
being the impractical dog-walking man?
oh god... i can think of being paid
to be a movie critic... or a restaurant
sabatouer... also a critic...
by now: as long as the hands are washed
that prepare any food...
is fine: oh a mighty O mighty fine by my
standards for identifying:
the universal / a franction of a billion
strong population sort of china-       man...

nothing smart about singing
about my initials...
m c e...               energy = mass x speed of
light squared...
so... what sort of equation has it at:
speed of light cubed?
there must be a speed of light cubed equation...
given light comes from stars...
and the stars aren't going anywhere:
apart from their usual disco orbit...
there must be a...
                                     space travelled...
time concerning = energy and...
something that invokes the speed of light cubed...
rather than squared... 2-dimensional...
there needs to be something concerning...
the nature of light in a 3-dimensional
posit... pivot...

               i am this far from wanting
any credentials to have to be psychopathic about
a heritage and a future that's a bit like
about that fortune and fame of the man:
not the buddha not the christ...
but the man who won the crown of king anon
when fermenting the clarity cocktail from
a bunch of near-rotting stalks of wheat
and getting drunk on rotting apples
borrowed from the mules and the bears...
that would stumble into their caves
and hug their shadows...

                       christopher young:
the hellraiser II: hellbound soundtrack...
or dead can dance: into the labyrinth...
or hammock's ketonic...
the full album through and through...

                        pulp that never became an oasis
or a blur...
as expected... winning... losing...
but somehow forever meshed into
the ongoing democratic fortune-wheel
spin-off... the minor influences congregation
dynamic... congesting the cogito...
          
                 wins! wins? a comment section...
the loser...
                  keeps on writing...
because... here's to elbow nudging...
   as the hands are riddled with hand-signs
for the deaf... and... that would truly be
the better part of anyone's guess...
        hallucinating braille come mid-air traction
of: things heard over a megaphone.