the taste of your "words":
in my mouth:
no...                  not words:
unconscious:
sounds:
onomatopoeias at best
and at worst...
like shadows of fridges,
elevators... giraffes...
              my solipsistic serpendipity
has come
to an: evolutionary end...
a history with presceince:
when
and only when
biology becomes invoked:
like Dukes of Nuke'Em....

          i get the gemale
G-Male = Female...
                 fetish for puncgtuation:
you painted:
i see tecture:
Mona nLisa is without tecture
impression this:
chemist walks into a bathroom
imagines a pciture:
imprints it ontp a painting
                  form: perfectioninism....
perfect the form...
you ****** the form up!
still happens:
Harryh Rane, Wonlado!

                    sigma finally
acknolowedges:
Omea contrea G Alpha
          says ghost: you  blinking?!
i paint:
i no longer write...
ink for blood....

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......................................./.,..................
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i stopped writing...
i started doodling:
and having all the **** in the whole
wide wired world...
i came with tongue
tio tease salt out of...
****-butter

i think i ithnik i i think think think
thinking Joe joys of
Joy's ?be
Beclett... illiteratre Eire...
think think blah thing coew crow
think