as a commodıty of 81 absent shapes wyrds hıd from me wıth the cleverness of soft mud and to seek them even before to see possıbılıty of passage and recognıze theır capacıtıes corollary alıgnment wıth unseems formıng our ınterıor fluvıal systems ı had to enter mud eat ıt sleep ın and befrıend ıt love ıt more than name flesh goods or good and there abdıcate aıms
becoming acquainted with a mudslug assuming the appellation lapidac i learned of a grinoire radarac revered by the nuns of knot of the bimini hills near the prasaynts of the hermit goat of hadoughti yet in the congress of doubt in that festival of glippant gleujam thongs of dirty naked chambal malwaian urchin shiverings phlogiston dragons all led all those nuns of knot in caprine lewdities tilting even golden asses full rudescent
so i face a fork do i seek my wyrds or this grinoire radarac this newling knowledge that reverie of nuns or anyhoo our cherished nuns who knowing knots know differently mayhaps under congress our goat hermit who sermons through munificence on the kin the close of curse and delovêd friend or fiend or both you do have acquaintance with forks those tines of time those problematic cutleries and so you must commiserate and some among you say or think or dream just substitute spoon for fork you simpleton the problem disappears choose both the quest still quests no intent for any other
and here in these faces now a eureka comes in the wink of a moon the smirk of a star without abashment in the clarity of spaces in the murkiness of places in the udder pitch of traces i see with the purities of madness its diseased 2020 truth the nuns the nuns of knot spoon and noon and fork and wyrd and mud they not just hold the grinoire but are its pith and vellum tis their breath their oxygen their internet and animal no matter stuffed or digital famy cuddly naught so the question is as questions are become displaced we seek questions in questions no turtles down text or wyrd don fresh sartorials from mephistos backless wardrobe prancing shamelessly into pubic air that remnant commons as where the way to goaty nuns whence the map to boundary lines of congress
naturally the thinking that enters thinking sounds something like if hermit sermons and if curse terse verses or when hadoughti sings and bundi claps i love boolean aurealis if all the ifs deif and fidelity be deaf then logic falters if disreason fails bytes and bittens shirley tooly we bray unto vu we seek maps in lost archives of the bot monsters of doktor silinki butta-arsvelds closet in rehearsings of a nurses purses wake and so naturally again nature must exist still somewhere the word so it says preserves the thing thus and therefore i wracked and whacked or wacked ripe with brain fag syndrome or in the common tung consumed by quest set off for deepest deepest cellars of the high town of true secret universities dug deep and true and down dubai
doo bye doo hi doo high do high doo die do pie doo why doo sigh doo psu doo see doo say dosa doo sa hah ah here we ah are our home glittering shitty nom & nym & hymn & her our sceptre & our toilet plunger archives lost and sloshed here many connectshuns our netforks large as barges morgue as borges blog as boogers we take the escalator i like to feel a man thow and nen and take an escalator deep down and at the provosts office in the thick of sex we knock and knickers know no gnomic nor doo hi the inside yakademics extone might this be or not a commodity of 81 weve been expecting we know the nuns of knot their underwhereabouts their habits kilns and how to fire on the pyre
the yakademics come they pour like bats from caves of purgatory flush with constructs lush with product and in them all like doubt or death towering above countless limbs eyes lottery balls doktor silinki butta-arsveld𓁀 full of race scum bum 81 they tuitio and they sing for theyre as artsy as the borg vogue tells them so
we know the way to the nuns of knot
soul money mind itll cost you all you got
education isnt cheap
the exhausted efforts of the anxious heap
you wont get in my closet
what can i do i give her all my organs wallets reason gadgets memory sight cums freedom visions she sends a minion in she sends a minion in and that minion back with map hairy with a million yakademic gonads and they sing more many presentation songs
the odyssey is set they send me off alone bereft afflicted doktor butta sheds no tear no pedigree and the desert so it ever goes surrounds like a portfolio and beasts of void creatures of eternal sand emerge to meet me unprepared emerge to greet me mouths prepared this homeless home you may have heard or rather seen in spiral rounded gyral loopful nights o glimpsy wisdom destined for eyes shut only eyes returned inward teacher of teachers of teachers of empty classrooms they take me in these spirits of the belly of immanence they take me in and down and in the sand in the garrets of the earth hungry as dreams famished as hope i forget the protocols of clothes and cutlery forget the circumscriptions of names and things forget the comforts of the land
when i wake if i wake im not in bed or transit grave or lsat but the hard embrace of 81 thousand nuns of knot and the meat of the lots ground as if tossed in truffle oil with macerated heirlooms stolen from the locked and guarded gardens of god and in the midst of a continual fortnight of religious jestures of penetration the hermit goat sermonizing on the ashen ass of time the entire while wily looking not at heaving meat neither at the sizzling knotty mince not at the 81 as 81 or one but in the words of zero spaketh and conjurings of broken ages cast into urticant lust and here in wyrds unlonely lonely death radarac spilling liquid letters into voidy vats of mind the not knot whos there nuns spelling all manner of never spoken names i say or hear me say i many one of bimini bumps eye mony any glippant fork quests undone undone the city undone the appellation hills yes yes nunny nuns undone i unnun nummy nun and knot and undone none
𓁀 see el-spet clitias *olicking account of doktor arsvelds naughty adventures in advanced postdoktoral skullarship in the continuously episodic septic transepic hypersexis child of curse school paying closest attention to their coveted closet see also since youre into seeing sas extract here the hermit goats sermon a seminal application of nymhematology to curse nuns knots clearly builds on these inspiring works linking them to the nascent underfunded arts of hagiobiothanatography note doos editors rejected almost unanimously the authorss submitted title the bums of bot and the mums of mot or the numbs of pot or crumbs of
