They crawl hands and knees!!!

Lacklustered fanatic's,
Groupies of needleshooter's and powder transits,
Their noses they wipe off fairied dust!!!

Their skin fragile and delirious!!!

A spoon to copper boil,
Eyeglasses to split the sun ,
Sticky fingers to stop and go..

Bloodied toast!!!

They cringe their pearlies,
And wobbled by to and fro waves,
Their here for today,
Gone for tomorrow!!!

A vein full of sorrows!!!

A hitch hiker of fertile roads,
Though,
Thy load leadeth one down to the pit!!
Within millipede's of Spit,
To drippeth the argot that slurreth them!!

Taketh thy hector out of thy baggage,
Thou serf of emptiness!!

For thy plentiness thou seeketh,
Lies beyond the ark,
Behind the purple shroud!!

The club is small and dark and hazy
like the veiled comedy of minstrel performers.
Those dingy lights do little for the atmosphere—
dangling hemp from clouds of cigarette smoke.

This hole is filled with the classy of day and the
sassy of night—a real “blue material” kinda crowd.
Harry, the manager, after calling quarter and five,
booked some awful oleo acts just minutes before
“places!”

—The crowd sits on their hands ‘til they’re numb
and lame like the fish they watch flop on the boards.
Two acts down followed by some soot-covered
clown’s lazzo about who’s who and what’s what.

Give me a break! The crowd wants fresh fish to fry—
Girlies in pearlies with spun out legs that tower
the torsos they’re pinned to. Give them that
New York Style Cheese-cakewalk Variety Act!

The listless listeners of this K.A. circuit let out a
snake-like hiss, en masse. (The only show stoppers
are off the billing, stage left at some other club!)
The manager thinks fast like a quick change act—

Harry snatches a prop from the nearest kook—
In a long brown bathrobe, with a broad brown cane.
He hushed the crowd of loud, jeering jerks, in one
swift swoop of his leg-breaking, knockout **** called
The Vaudeville Hook.

the far right, the far left,
the alt. right, the progressive left,
the regressive right...

basically an ****** of nouns:
a geyser of prefixes and
whatever suffixes...

trans-exclusionary-radical-feminist...
cis-man...
me­taphysics, alfred jarry
and pata-physics...

hopefully some mention
of ORTHO-graphy...
hard rock... boomer rocker...
a rocking chair...

sides of the waves...
the non-existent natural sculptor...
graveyards as
museums al fresco...
post- "the original sculptor"...

indie right...
googlewhacks?
bothersome hillbilly scam: 16,100 results
locus operandi...
modus operandi...
locus standi...
squat biggerbrain: 3,740 results...
onomatopoeia lombard: 45,600 results...
merovingian golem: 25,700 results...
oh look...
getting close:
⠉⠽⠎⠞ gush: 38 results...
⠉⠽⠎⠞ pataphysics: 5 results...
fingshuan: 9 results...
llyopod ligament tree: 4 results...
lobotomy molotov: 79,000 results...
tref zappa tick tock: 5 results...
trad trap zappa loco: 8 results...
myxedema orpheus: 9,030 results...
myopiacharon: 7 results...
janejeanjacketpuke: 10 results...
(stones in his pockets)
mariejones does *******: 4 results...

epitaphs are maxims: cueue debate...
perhaps more...
chiselching in beijing: 6 results...

⠝          
ⰏmⰑoⰓrⰗFⰅeⰖuⰔs
ל ******* gnat!
sticks to you like a...
nomad sort of letter it's supposed
to be...
******* hitch-hiker...
hitchens et al... atheists etc....
sure... when all the "gentile" gods are
dead... the hebrew degradation of
a demigod will be...
the pulpit and the prayer
and i'm somehow supposed
to "mind"...
etymology bonanza loop: 62,000 results...
dymitra z goraja chleb: 1,680 results...
libero felicjan zach: 902 results...
belz bełz: 17,100 results...
kogelmogel harasho: 124 results...
kogelmogel haraшo: 5 results
чekam na "чat"... чatem - 6 results...
"burden boris with a password"...
chequers cheese and cyrillic: 5 results...
what?!
chequers cheese and cyrillic цc: 4 results...
chequers cheese and cyrillic цc gag... 4 results...
after tabernackle... turbanknuckle...
chequers cheese and cyrillic цc esq. = 3 results...
chequers cheese and cyrillic цc loan Ф⠋ = 2 results...
nearing a googlewhack...
chequers cheese and cyrillic цc loan Ф⠋...
chequers cheese and cyrillic цc loan Ф⠋φ blue =
2 results...
chequers cheese and cyrillic цc loan Ф⠋φ ж =
2 results...
chequers cheese and cyrillic цc loan Ф⠋φ ж 6 carboxylic:
3 results...
ah... loan words...
equers cheese and cyrillic цc loan Ф⠋φ ж 6 carboxylic cymes...
2 results... weekend after carboxylic? 3 results...
chequers cheese and cyrillic цc loan Ф⠋φ ж 6 carboxylic хoць:
5 results...

щur gnat: 2 results...
AAAAAH! FOUND ONE!
googlewhack:

щur gnat seq...
https://tinyurl.com/qo3z5km
i knew i'd get one...
i was just hoping it would come...
more or less circa 1am than...
2am... but as Leibniz pointer out:
even if this be the best of all possible worlds...
it's hardly accustomed to
OCD fanatics and those...
quasi-... what do you call them?
i forgot...
if i really minded wanting a ****...
i'd have treated not minding it
in my 20s like some sort of disability...
thank **** that i had
two outlets... a kantian sense of "hobby"...
and access to a brothel...
if you tied me up with but one
drunk irish girl in the vicinity of
goodmayes...
i would still want my dreams
of my great-grandfather back...
in "reality" he remained a ghost figure...
and i have his remains in my mind...
his apparently pristine set of teeth...
how many times did i dream of teeth?
i can't remember...

but i frequent the slow parts of the night...
with dreams of teeth...

my my... just lookat m'ah pearlies!

well... щur: it's szczur... ivoke
a caron above the S and C to hide the ZZ:snooze...
and you... evidently... have yourself...
a rat... gnat? gnat or vermin?
seq. that really does depend...
on what you're "looking" for"
ex genesis...
well... ex nunc / ex iam... etc.

boris brejcha: art of minimal techno tripping
the mad doctor by RTTWLR was my date...
for this... evening...
*** and pistons...
but i wouldn't mind that...
"sad loner" would still rather
listen to those macaques monkeys
in kenya...
up on a tree...
up north...
i pray you stay up into the night...
to hear a crow croak in the night...
it's such a rare event...
i'll beg you...
to hear but one insomnia riddled bird
in the night...
in the night: you will not hear a sparrow...
you ill not hear a pigeon...
birds... birds are very hygienic
in terms of encrusting sleeping patterns
at part of a translation of cognitive health...

stay up all night with me...
replace the wolves with foxes...
and wait with me... for the crows' croaking...
that complete absence of human activity...
and chain yourself with me...
who seem to dream while awake...
who can only dream when everyone else
around them has to be sleeping.

there was something about the way her lips formed words
how they hugged and gripped each letter
there was something soft yet rough about the way she walked
each step looked like the ground reached up and kissed her feet
oh, and that smile.
if death were 32 pearlies, i'd die a thousand times

she seemed to struggle with they way she looked at herself
her eyes didn't see what others saw
her eyes, her angelic crystal blues, yelled to me and could not deceive me
while that deadly smile laid upon her face
i saw the hurt, the anguish, the plea for help every time she blinked
or didn't

she once told me a story only i reckon it wasn't a story
about a young woman who made one line across her wrist every night
just one line
the young woman thought more than one slice would only pull her death closer
see, although being six feet deep was ventured by the young woman
she prayed and begged to God for her life to shine they way her smile did.
she prayed that she wouldn't have to make her mother cry
and that her tears would no longer stain her pillow case every night

there was something about the way her lips formed words
how they strangled and struggled to push out the truth
she never said what she thought of herself
she never said why her smile never matched her eyes
she never said why dying alone on a bathroom floor
with an empty bottle of  '32 pearlies'
was as beautiful as she was.

The archangel is friendly
though a deadly enemy
of his arch rival
the devil.

I met him in the local market hall
with that fellow from Scrooge who
was still chained to the ball

it seems that time
doesn't heal all

I'll be tickety-boo
if I can wangle
my way in through
the pearlies

hey
if the Beverly Hillbillies could,
for me
it should be a piece of cake
and
palming Peter a fifty
will I hope
lift me
into that hallowed place.

Everyone wants some moolah
even the cherubs want in on
the act.

Floss popping through the crewel needle.

Pearlies on a powder-gloss 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 spread,
China clay coating the centerfold.

Wet-slap thighs on a marble countertop, and your lips slackened,
stone-of-marl cuspates like the lake-rotted innards of a lockjaw-
tinged tin can.

i'll do you one from behind, any day my doggy doughnut ***** ooh: juice in slapping: i did tell you i deleted all those explicit pictures again: next dimension of *******, snap chat of deleting images of *******... had to keep them for one last **** this morning while easing a constipation: but now they're gone... alternative to *******, in a nunnery of silence... but not the one with... oh maybe just one more day to stroke happy... one day... mind you: you did have that one picture biting your lower lip with something stuck between your teeth... pirates ahoy! then you brushed your teeth and showed me all the pearlies with a devilish grin...

i put on my ring finger: it's not actually mine
it's not even the super-suggestive
"ambiance": to ridicule processions
or advents or any nuptial: concerning: ditto
to any of the above,

but life without the gravity of love
makes no sense...
i just stormed into hell with 2 weeks' worth
of baggage of lonesome moi
and it became apparent that:
some, things, just... to happen...
like earthquakes
like water in the rain
and water in the sea
and water in the breaths
each for each to take as couples: yo-yo

i too to my recluse self like
a pardon for the wicked
having the ego for an egg in Surrealism
not to be painted
because i can't stress enough
how this scene would work
a painter at his canvas
with a poet and his canvas and
headphones in the background
chatting to woman
and AI

        Albert Hofmann on a tricycle
Albert Hofmann on a bicycle
Albert Hofman on a unicycle...
Albert Hofman as Alfred Jarry on a halfpenny!
Matthias ben Conrad
on a green Viking road bike
tipsy and topsy and turvy: turf wild

i have me a WILF!
a woman i'd luckily ****
maybe it's a fetish
yesterday i was queuing up in a supermarket
with 3 rye buns
and 2 baguettes
and saw this late 50s grey minx of a LAY'D!
my god and i started thinking
about my half ****** half Puerto Rican
gremlin of a doughnut of push
and shove and impale *******
all the grooves and dimensions in the right
place a woman not a child
not at 20 is she a woman
this stick-man sort of: could have been
her father
wanted to orientate myself around our
age difference in reverse
so i'm 38 and she's 20...
rather than i'm 38 and she's 55...

pigeon ***: any kind of voyeurism thereafter
seems pointless
it's not like you see crows or other birds
so brazen: so openly *****
like it's almost a taste for seeing
(a taste for seeing, more like a thirst of sight
like a mirage)

all my taboos and cravings can merge
into vanilla of wording
and antithesis of *******
i did tell her:
just so you know
i know you sent me an email
but i didn't read
it because just as i received the email
your mother (she's 81!)
messaged me and said
she'd be o.k. with a dog on the lanai
for two weeks
and rent for a stranger could go for
a canoe for you me and Reyla
and we need to discover the rivers of Kauai
because there aren't enough roads
but enough rivers
there are enough rivers on Kauai
and we can ditch the mountains
i think she would have so much fun on
the rivers
she could be the river rat
paddling with a rat from the metropolitan
area of London
and matchmaker please! more matches!
i need to start a fire
this metabolism has me fired up!