Showing posts with label sapooing in the sower. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sapooing in the sower. Show all posts

22.8.19

journey to mecca


my most putrescent sapoo, what have you learned this summer for as we know from those who say it’s all about learning opportunities it’s all about learning opportunities

we’re on a journey to mecca and the genders inside are jostling for a view

that sounds practical

i only want orgies
everything else bores me

yes, we realize you’ve spent 18 weeks alone in a privileged green shoe bouncing around in the tiny confines of your mind instead of bouncing around in the tiny confines of society but could you make some attempt to communicate in the normal ways so that our unreaders at home or in their best friend’s spouse’s gonads can take at least some little inspirational morsel into their inspirationstarved lives for as those who say it’s all about inspirational morsels say it’s all about inspirational morsels

and i go to the mall of love
and doktor huphen gogol gonococci reads from the proper of names
and i hear what i’ve always heard
trade talk’s always the same

one of the things that strikes our unreaders is – and i quote here from a recent tweet from a city councillor in duh loins in i-owe-ah! – sadoo pooper doesn’t poop the way the rest of us nonpoopers poop i mean i’m all for diversity like everyone but i believe in only one poop

allāhu akshiva eloha budammad brasus chrimin krichri ganebar

you know yesterday i took the zoomwoosh gooberfire 000 to the castles of tan-zany-ah! and was installed as queen of air conditioners, this made me think a thought of somethink else for yesteryear’s witchhunts are palehunts next to ourhunts

i only want pierogies
everything else galls me
like republican presidents
and mystic dissidents
and especially geometric beauty

i’m pure like a leporidae or a morogoro and i wait for the 1533 lagomorpha linguini 2311 to pull in and the sun like stale peach jello rise also into the smog of an impossible deli and i’m not immune to such blather, to statements that smile on our nonexistent selves, a sentiment if i weren’t a beached himbo has been expressed in erstwhile dictions now lounging in the southsouthwest speciesneutral washroom on the lower level by the apotropaic stand which hamsa pazuza ofuda’s been tending since a clad of boncubines on a marshmallow train to nowhere dine on time on time in chancrous calendars, the clairvoyant horse sees it there, the clad on time on time and signals the girl to a forbidden ride and rocks like sansoo descending from a sanbo kyodan retreat as we sing the sad hit i’m as litigious as a torn lagavulin ligament / let us sue zen with suisen / while reading the fourth abyssament / to be dead  to the fundament  to be dead

i think we’ve lost the thread

i’m impure like vitreloy on a hot yen roof or alicia & bobi as they beat one other to the tunes of top 50 love and i wait tomorrow in delhi in zero visibility in a jumper that doktors emeriti violated after ethics class and the moon like used titanium in arasmius oreades flops below the horizon like a regent of the green faerie on assiduous assignment for a lime tram to pull up and i’m not really like the phantoms of myself today and i can’t listen to your language which unruly truly sounds like animate shits ferociously battling to be the day’s top turd and there is no softness or gentleness in this world the flies sing on an ark of the future all kingdoms end in dreams to take me to a shrine in shenzhen to godforsaken gods

and that’s been the summer folks and if you don’t believe it don’t believe it. we’re going to mecca, all of us and the genders are jostling for a view