that there's a death of melody in music
and that it's coincidental
                        with a poetic death
of rhyme -
                      all precursor of:
res vanus - and a moving beyond
res cogitans -
                 building up a budding
of a frothing emptiness -
                           along with misnomers
as alt metaphors:
                   perhaps then coinciding
with a need for a glue of an imposing
maxim...
           now i want to put on a pair
of latex gloves and write like a perfect
******:
                a mahler or a penderecki ******...
where there was once
an aesthetic...
   there's only a sterilization process
that quasi "beautiful"...
   i'd love to get drunk on alfred jarry's
pataphysics... but i am compromised
by all the social engineering currently
  in process...
                if i could only find relief
in a rhyme...
                          thus rushing to engage
with an cul de sac of sleep:
with each night i prize open a prayer
of an otherwise uneventful narration
that my thought embryo has become
with the words:
let me not become an architect of dreams...
some variation
of technicality.... willful for
an etymological promenade of details....
otherwise a return to a language
summary akin to the final conclusion
of numbers: 1 + 1 = 2 via something
akin to: i ate bread: i fattened the lean
pig with a telepathy of digestion
and the absorption of nutrients...
and fibre for glue-****...

      variations of conjunctions: in
that a letter can transcend mere sound...
or a classification as either
vowel or consonant:

                  w:               in
                    z:             with...
o:            about
                          polakk slavic...
        i:                and...
                    th­ere might have
been a return to concern oneself with
the alphabet...
but what is the use of such
trifles...
                         now i'm starting to gag
on a fear that's turning my sessions of language
use: i hoped for the informal...
  i hoped for a delight of some
unfortunate circumstance:
             translating a death in public
with... the ultimate solipsism of
******* in public...
      some neu grand biting of the ice...
this eating of the ice...
                  counting one's teeth...
a completeness of a crescendo into
a heaving of procrastination:

that instagram stole from
                       the comic book...
            once upon a time: declan... tan...
gave me a comic book
for my birthday: batman vs. alien...

and that i am wearing latex gloves
while i write this: a momentary lapse
in a self-defining critique...

mind the articles in english:
a (indefinite) is akin to a telescope..
the (definite) is akin to a microscope...
mickey mouse turned magician spectacular...
i am sure of it...

i put on a pair of latex more times...
than i have put on a ******...
and that's not because i'm somehow
shy: the brothel and ******
are not... foreign to me...

i imagine the perfection of skin
in latex... what i wouldn't do...
when i otherwise...
squeeze... beelzebub's white pulp
of phlegm coagulating with
maggot brains of acne from my cheek
and nose...
          i imagine latex as that...
olive skin... that apple sunset burn...
it's beside a b.d.s.m. manual for
a total body covering
with a variation of exposed genitals...

i think of all those poor *******
strapped to role playing and uniforms...
i just want to **** a sensation
of an oyster shell one minute...
and exoskeleton slick of knee...
the next... then there's no clarity
of need or will...
      there's just this...
perverted persuasion of an unwillingness
and sabotage... tantamount...
in excavating new burdens
of reproach... for an otherwise basic...
safe and thereby senile:
striptease of a lost artistic...

              latex again... there's no concept
of dry ice... when picking up
cubes of the "stuff"... it's impossible for...
the dry... cold cube...
to attach itself liker a spider
to the rich lipid surface of the skin...

no hindering the typing...
process... but it's not like i'm about
to excavate a paragraph from this iron
maiden of a thought:
ego or inner voice or...
some other synonym as vague as
the architecture of god for
the diligent disguise of: fed on prayer...

because i have lost control of my ego...
i can't be an egoist when
i have come to assure myself...
this feral fraction of the sigma
that's me... this debilitating contraband
unit...
          to employ hands dressed
in latex gloves, to find paper...
to magically invoke ink with a machine-esque
precision...
      
       and because rene magritte used
to... take on the full attire...
of a suit... and paint: while standing up....
i imagine the thrill of gravity too:
this way... of jerking off while standing up
rather than... while sitting on the
throne of thrones and pushing out
a chestnut of:
dilating the **** a little bit more...

- and because this is not ancient rome
and that, "somehow"...
the gynocentric model of...
surrogate fathers even if complimented
by the status of emperor is beside
a question of the old / new norm...

roses bleed a colour such a near impossible
gesticulation at the beholder's eye...
a robed bishop of lavender...
scentless roses...
          give me a flower that...
impossible... the sound of a weeping
willow... rustling... being
rearranged by the rummaging of a wind...
clarity of the closure of sensation
come the petal...
this desire to find... the plethora of
***** as akin to flowers...

           my rotting crease of:
are you looking for paper...
are you looking for paper...
      i look for edible paper with a taste
of blisters... and nails...
like it might be disguised in
papyrus...
              
    give my heart enough strain...
and i will heave a mimic
of certain avenues being solaced
as having been fashioned for some:
agreeable loot of eyes...

sometimes the articles in english
are never used...
the corpus of restraints...
not that it matters...
the restraints are such
that the transgressions mean so very little...
except for a theatre of the absurd...
cruel becomings and symphonic
whirlwinds of the absolute cause...
like riddling a pyramid as a tourist...
rather than... heaving an excavation
of a height of a mountain...

to envy mountains is to construct
pyramids...
  it to also scatter ambitions toward
the primordial and always first:
looting of a sand dune pitch...
                 to compensate the tides:
one of rain and the subsequent
              sea...
or... the grains of sand...
and that deserted place..

          efficiency in the workplace
as a concept for purgatory...
and so many borrowed themes of pressures...
in a society of unit basis:
this greasing of a leather that's
not a pair or trousers or...
       which will become apparent...
a pair of disused latex gloves...

  such a paranormal fear of this...
otherwise possible yield of base:
                                       cradle the dilemma
of a yoke... without the white
protein hive...
         **** a lemon...
forgo the ***** gesture and...
limit: because there's a hybrid
in "question"...
      
otherwise... shrapnel base to base
basics...
some variation of the closed off secure...
adrian leverkühn:
the near impossible
"dialectic" of a oink's anatomy...
the pig foretold the limbo
of a sheik's compromise...

nearing death and a juice of
grey / variation:
nearing death and the juicing
of grey...
                  my no nearing...
death is such a devilish heave...
                 language has to half...
such beside nuance worship of
impromptu / beginner's luck...
  my samson and.. that *****'s riddle
wedded to a D...
            
                     E.L.P.:
emerson lake & palmer...
trouble with acronyms...
conjunctions are sometimes used,,,
while wearing latex... ghosts!
exoskeleton winding up
a giggle.,..
          my nearing a loot
of an oeuvre..
       childless creases of a fabric of
atoms...
this hierarchy of mirages...

                        asking for a friendship
with the moon...
a lacklustre of the three dimensions
of the old speckled hen...

a three legged dog...
                 my own father...
of which i make both sorrow and *****
having found no replica...
this tamed grandiosity of worded
junctions...

               snorkeling is somehow akin
to snoring... here i perfect...
a dickensian plot-hole in "laziness"...
but not really...
         to tame the crab bucket...
to tame: "above the hive"...
a question of why... wisteria might bloom..
seemingly, independently...
yet coincidental...
base repertoir of grades...
      completely useless when
sole verb projects are employed..
    
       i have reason to vain-belief
in the use of: a dreamless attire for the credo:
that's ambition...
bit i fear i'll sooner advent
an anger and a death... before..
i can be allowed a stomach...
and an allowing / alluring concern
for... persaverance...

         like it's a gilding...
an unfathomable first prized...
                     Edison-esque project...
           was there / could there ever be...
a scrutiny of a lightbulb?
                 a mountain reeked of a scent
of havoc...
      the confines of canyon
that of an all-encompassing tomb...

                 to have to riddle
with a rubric of skeletons...
             maya niqab... maya tow
a mouth that doesn't speak
or a nose that doesn't distinguish
a lobotamy from a prose...
new basic invasion of iraq...
  which is no new iraq:
i just devolved onto the topic of...
the rat that stank...
with a gravity of spectacular of...
wishing for the atom bomb...
wishing for the atom bomb.