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February 24, 2005

"A new poem for your scrupulous displeasure!"

The folks in my poetry workshop hated this poem because they couldn't wrap their tiny minds around it. Their sentiments made me realize how fantastic this piece must be and, so, I'm sharing it with you and the greater net public.

borrowed flesh

A real asshole talking about cab drivers and fruits vaults a turnstile, sporting a crew cut and sharkskin suit. The heat closes in making devilish stool pigeons. Mosaic of floating news stories peaks at 6pm. Elongated issues pass through table litter night candy unknown, the author is a misplacement of sexual energy. Outside trying to thwart the odorless remnants under a vice specially designed for this and that, a character collector stands out like a hunka tin. Nobody can breathe convolutions of gristle by forcing dietary artists on logic and assaults, the silent black ooze of a gangster’s confidence! Backed by pink smell, regret cannot observe customary obscenities. In some sort of sanitarium the academy waits, thinking victims often know they are going to die often.

Getting hot, the terrible frequency that blinds, some kind of awful climax keeps getting heavier. Torture locates disciplinary procedure for twenty seconds balanced on peril like Japanese boys with fierce innocent faces. This monster, an abbreviated spinal column, grabs the stomach in moments of excitement and lapses into broken English. Rain bouncing up the stairs’ stuffy German alcoves, a limestone altar marking the center hemisphere for real, as artificial wings copulate the air with shit and whimper.

Chicken saw something ignoble and obvious reflected back from a jaunty wave carried by a little exclamation of disgust marked by tentative fades abdicated in a cold yellow halo. The Florida tan carried as a prop read as Little Abner. No pride, a distinct revulsion, can get used to anything proffered and proliferated flooding the world with cheap.

Huge iron-lungs full of paralyzed pies pop with horribles and pantomime. A room filled with green light misunderstood. No proof recommends confinement accurately contained.