the agêd explode ın ash
mamas been feeding off granny ıs tıts for as long as anyone forgets while it cant be medically or metaphysically proven if granny ıs alive or dead she sure still keeps on spouting out those grannyısms and good for mama flows the mılk
though its not really mılk as galadap discovers when she sneaks a drınk one night more about that later
so its later now though weve had to cut out a lot of pretty good stuff to get here so quickly so lets tell the toothsome story
its the eve of hexennachtenwoltenschläften and house of mamas open for the carousing agêd and they enter like hobbyhorses arriving in pumpkins and deshabille on psilochuasca and dragonflies by wrinkle and disaster and steeds of collapse crashing through windows and cutting themselves in broken cackles they cast themselves down webbed flues to explode tinily in ash and annihilated memory
here comes unkl of greed wearing thick lipstick of concern there awnt of academic virtue and clunks of observation in a ginbowl a granmama of many greats and thick broods of narcissists lounging in a pantherthong old hababal of countless suicides and love all these of gross descendants littered across the earth like frozen novels come like weightless garish pastries and share their sins and gather in the cravatoria to await mamas arrival and address and their sexes hang like ichiban brinjal and require just as much oil and some sing tiny choruses in corners
mama enters through a gerovrata she craftily pretends to misplace by dismantle 19 and the agêd bubble and gluck in seventy times seven hundred simulations and turbulence is like ichthyic hope
oh agêd and the many agêd and the agêd upon agêd and the agêd beyond mama says and slips her dress off oh agêd whove bespoken boundaryless vats of suffering into existence and almost as many lies to delude all but the wise that their bespeakings been a virtue mama says and unhooks her brassiere and lets it drop like a thousand lost metaphors oh agêd who now and already stalk the shades of drool grasping for holy dreams that refuse to enter even the remote orbits of your suppurating festerment mama says and removes her panties and casts them at one recently dead under the tattered skirts of a once professor in ungulatology and mother of a duet of pedantry banality vapidity oh agêd who says mama and
she says the same thing every year mutters galadap to herself in her geheim secerno and knows mamas going to get distracted by the sunken smelly navels and antediluvian toenails their irresistible pendulousness and rancorous gonads the coalescence of which she feels this dna config even in her young meat and begins to prepare for the tumult she divines will arrive when it flowers garishly into the manifold colours of hunger and hard lecheries of scent galadap knows will catapult mama into frenzies of forgetting and shell descend from her nakedness into the dealt fashions of teeth and fragility
galadap says to herself in her verhohlenung ı shall use the opportunity of mamas fatal distraction and unholy salaciousness to steal through the storey of skeletons and use the key of taboos and ıncant the unspoken and clamber unwıttingly across the dıssequıturıa to the opaque plenıtudes that protect granny ı in her volumınous concupıscences and there outwit the plenitudes and gain access to the knowledge thats mine
& true to truth galadap does and here granny ı ın torn & smırchy nıghtdress of eternıtıes and a tıt lounges outsıde like an ırrupting ınfrangıbılıty and the tıt speaks ın the emetıc speech of the spırıts who lıve ın the ındıstınguıshabılıty of death and lıfe and whıspers to galadap secrets of her dna and even mama doesnt know them all and pulls galadap towards ıt and she latches on like a ratchet and sucks to the marrow this ıchor that has changed her forever
and when galadaps done granny ı rıps off grandotters frock and there galdaps tıts to have been born with the breasts of outcasts like caprıcıous sentınels and granny ı sucks and dotter of house of mama knows the need of those with neıther root nor canopy
galadap returns to her heimlich by the cravatoria and the agêd are strewn like roaches after a party and smoke rises from them and mama naked and satisfied and bloody sits in this gehenna some lost word from the regions beyond and galadap sees time before her babbling like the mad and feels granny ı crawling within and makes an altar to what shes no idea and prays though she believes little in belief and sleeps for many days and nıghts in risible ribald portendıng dreams
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