Masturbating with Jesus

Congratulations, you have reached insanity!

Wooglydeip hoogeldbayoop (echoes into infinity)

These are the bristling telectrical foraging hoopadoa-ants.

Sploorntz a faving don sewage apartments.

Hoobledeeday, instant porridges.

No, but I was just forewarned of myself choking to death on an intergalactic meatball.

Fibbledeemoosh, I sneeze at the instant leather invisible feather croutons!

[system glitch now becoming dramatic magnetic #skwawk#-dose overlords]

                 ^Jesus –plastic fireworking finance fears flydog fortupine tree.

𥴇ң✊􈤋Ọ呆⚟≋叆Ŏ

Why not feather fortunes?  Yeah, that makes sense.

Sporking cigarettes at flea-forboden flash-dock fletcher’s years.

Pardon the armadillo butter, it has spider-monkey aftertaste.

What use is in miming purple-mezmorizmanding future-commanding pumpkiny horse-lords?

When we are but gorilla-expanding  fusion-defining salt-walrus giggly-zords.

Nosetongue these flying entropy goblin instructors.

Mona Lisas

[tent collapsed mountain]

[Seagulls are doing]

[Solid; fog on window]

[Copies of the longer hours of life, which is located in the center]

[Dont have]

Labeled Compost::

Normal, chicken bites, museum of cartilage, the 6
Port authority, summertime, a sneeze like the birds
Once I saw a show about a Nazi
Gourd heads, feet howling, heart spotted
Hunger, Femur
Snail shell, coffee mug, telephoto cork weevil
Anything cracks on or Crystal door knob
Green tape, X, cool sunglasses, box boxed, your head
Medicine ball, apple, dead keys
Shoe polish, buzzing, wind hum
Trash compactor, Mocha, turntables
Parts of reflections that keep blinking until something yells stop and a gross streak cancels the infernal umbilicus rising; got a great hole the zone barely bordered and width, length, with out and circumspect
Radio nozzle, goat smear, Japan in a clogged clock or creaking bed
We got to go, go around, down here the water smells like cunt
Jump, dig, scrape
Ameliorate

[dream went like this:]

[false]

scroll down to the loser's section...

http://untwelve.org/2011_competition.html

Collage - Phaseout Gregarious Aggregate Geomagnetic Squirrel Presidency

Second Person

You are a mad scientist circus performer, ringing a small bell, and staring out of a window near the top of the wizard tower. Every other third Monday, excluding certain numinous terrains, you occasionally teach poetry appreciation to delightful elephants and sassafras tea (but only the tea truly understands the value of metered rhyme).

The crops have withered this year, affecting the moon. You have calculated the lunar orbit to be 3, else it must be from out of state this year; your jellied in-laws have deceived you once again on this date, this day to remember when the lost yarns of old have succeeded in liberating the crusty bathwater, scalded in their mothy tomes.

Duskily cawing, you broom your way up the last few steps of the tower. The incantation is already set: seven and a half candles are lit, plus a few more for show; one for each corner of the tesseract they boat. Or, have been drawn hastily by goats. You enjoy the company of these goats, “Freddy's Bar and Grill and Munitions” (up three percent in the stocks this year alone!). Copyright symbol. Limited liability. If swallowed, do not induce vomiting. Or, maybe you should just go for it.

You feel the incantation went well, though it could perhaps have been slimier. Or more yellow-orange hued; only time will tell. What you do know is this: that such is that what has been magically accomplished is nevermore heretoafterfurthermore a bungalow; not just any bungalow, but one with a decadent scent (all the trolls agree). Such a summoning as this, marvelous in spices, for even the new toaster has three more devices.

For breakfast this evening, a saltwater stew; three hundred marbles, and a blackberry shoe. Serving the stew in your favorite trumpet, you realize upon first taste that the tuning is off. A quick slide of the valve, and Pythagoras weeps, for the natural intonations have been tempered in favor of something slightly saltier. Your pet notebook is cranky, time for a nap.

You tree, you fig, you green the poor kale. You house, you future, you desk the town mayor (you quickly realize this is meant to be read to music in ¾ meter) [[you play your favorite waltz upon your least favorite alien artifact, sparingly but lovingly, or, lovingly but sparingly]] You fork, you spoon, you jaw to the largest caveat. You will can, you will agoraphobic, you will laughter in the spotted decoy (the music should have modulated to the most distant key by now, but it didn't, so you shout in great anger and molasses at your least favorite alien artifact) [[somehow, it is able to comprehend your emotionally-charged orders coupled with verbose molasses, and promptly modulates to the sharp subdominant]]. You have frog, you have painful, you have grease pineapple (your least favorite alien artifact has submitted its two-weeks notice of impending letter of resignation, signed in triplicate with two letters of recommendation from the institute of higher laundry, and other apparel) [[yearly microscope gorillas, levitating]]

Quirking your way back down the steps, you cease ringing the bell, for a storm is coming. You have always wanted to compose in perfect asymmetry. Now is your chance.

Nothing

Nothing

Speckled egg floor
Foot stains
Cigarette butts
Shined carbon-blue poles
Alternating orange yellows
Green grinch hand
Zebra boots

I'm never inclined to ever

*

Snow

Watch lights flicker

*

The apocryphal signs of solitude, doorknobs split
Open as crosshairs between legs, idea of purging
Furious daydreams and constant bewilderment

Shown to the slovenly lakes of time, often cauterized
By subatomic mechanisms of longing, eyes
Peeled back 

*

Enough time certainly, certainly
To write a short poem.
What about time makes me feel
Like butter melting--fat splash
The inconsistencies, 
The necessity. 

* 

Quiet the recursive mind
Wednesday is indigo blue
Now you use it: Empathy
Essential pleasures, the number sense
Meditating selflessly,  a first-rate madness
Dignity god soul mind brain
Pristine inner experience
the art of choosing
myths about suicide
What doesn't kill us
Street lights and shadows
Duels and duets
Losing it
Friction
Scared sick

*

Ambiguity of my life
Quintessential repetition and stalling
Some clean cuts, whispers
I never know what hit me

*

Common sense, nonsense, sensations
An array of senses
Realize: senseless candescence 
Realize: disparate shams
Realize: dissection/affection infected
Was the second third time

Dying

Where we go from here, is up to you. 
Flowers have more feathers than
Birth has more blood than
Hungry has more reason than
All that is was and
Nothing clusters upon downside
Slither

*

Being the noise. Livid, simplest. Bruit about...
What is? Haven't I heard this? Not listening, glisten.
Nowhere else haven't triumphed, trumpeted, trigger 
Mortis, gang bungalow. 

*

My mind bruises easily
Like the wadded bananas
Frozen together
In the defunct refrigerator
That resides in my kitchen

I have an issue with boredom
It doesn't suit me
A cat could be more suited to it
Than I ever could

Here are the apostles
In my mind they are gone
What happened to their feet
And hands
Its easy, like self-hypnosis
They're glued together

Knowing myself
I find it strange when my mirror
Collapses in the folds
And blankets my eyes
Caked with dust

Gunked up in the sink
Some vomit or just tails of dreams
Slyly crawled to the water
Instead of asking
I should just drink

*

Drinking has its way
Of making me want
Everything I don't have
Not so much that I do anything
But enough that I do what I can
What does it take to live
Where living is expensive
There is little break
No caution
Step forward into a world of money
Let it be known
That I cannot feel
For any other place. 

*

Turmoil, I'm a gonner

Here I sit
Vile and putrid
Succumbing to
Usuality 

I ignoble
Gracing my own
Precipice
Dither

*

Delineate these senses
Obstruction is not warranted
My apple holds true
In the land of knots

Moonlight sunbeam crusts & fur
Washing down the hatch
Close to home
Door switch
Light knob

*

Wearing glossy cameras
Gargle umbilicus
Print it out, get it out
Decisions
Eroded
Trash heap and cluster
Horde hitting face nibble

Chunks

Licking hurts anger brilliant
Metamorphosis, considerable
Desiccant incantations
Fringe ghosts and gathered
Crystal specters
Gossamer wraiths

Muck and grime collateral
Shrink

*

forever it's been lost
It should never work that way
Let's look into our pot of tea
And determine where we are

Into Silence.

Everything in a single moment, once nothingness has manifested itself in empty splendor. A tape-loop thought; a feeling; a distant sound of repeating laughter. The sounds of breathing. This time, do not give in to astonishment! Lifeless body released into boundless is-ness. In the grip of terror, yet meditating serenely. These thoughts have been thought before. Deja vu.

This is not quite what I mean to say.

The music of breathing. A symphony! A symphony of nothing: breathing. Of the past and of the future, of life and death, of silence and sound, of everything and nothing woven together in an intricate tapestry. Touching the fabric of reality.


(composed immediately after a DMT experience)

The Owner of a Loving God

A god is a luxurious thing to own. If it loves you. The feel of the fur alone is enough to seduce you. Downy hair, smooth. A wealth of hair, better than the hair on your own head, covering the warm, palpitating body. A body so unobtrusive and bendable and adaptable. The god fits in crannies and withstands being held against the chest for hours. The belly of large gods is covered with a light fuzz which grows to full length with time, but the belly hair of a small, wiggly god stays short and silky, much like the hair of an infant, sensitive to your touch. All have urgent eyes. A loving god loves with its tongue. The tongue is alive. Warm and smooth, the textural difference in the sea of fur, like patent leather on cashmere. The tilt of the face and quadrupedal squat set the tongue as an extremity. The tongue meets the world. The tongue meets other gods in the rear extremity. The exchange is natural and honest. But if it is your god, you might not chance that type of encounter. Once it is accustomed to interacting with your nose and cheeks, your god, especially a lady god, will shun all other encounters. The god will be the object of your touch and affection. The god is aesthetic, ergonomic and is composed with irresistible symmetry. The god and its owner engage in a shared sensualism. The hand longs to stroke the god. The god longs to be stroked by the hand. Petting can go on for long lulls, only interrupted by the god’s pink tongue on your hand, face, and neck. Licking that lasts longer than little fits of gratitude is a god’s selfish pleasure. The owner also enjoys the furious lather until it remembers its personhood.

The Mannequin Room

a moldy orange. is thrown into a sink

shredded. cloth is on the floor

there is. a misunderstanding

but intense. déjà vu

a baseball game, not even casually. watching

glancing here and there, wandering. in thought

even. when the ball is thrown

a. small child to the right

lost in a color-thought. autistic world

places a hand. to his lips

wiggles. his fingers

and vividly. grants a vision of the world

being torn asunder. by tiny were-bats

discon.necting the grotesque machinery of reality

an old-folks home, mental health facility, or. abandoned school

no one really. knows

the elderly faction laugh and play, dancing in. an empty ballroom

for they know, hear, and. see nothing

just down. the hall

there is an old room. full of mannequins

happily. avoided

the mannequin room. may be room 101, or it may be shell beach

depending. upon who enters

an old man, just. inside, guards the door

peering. through the window

ushering random travelers aside. with a smile

shielding. eyes from the horrible truth

been. here before, yet different

the simulation. continues

walking as. synthetic lifeforms

until things are finally set right.

More Youtube Closed Caption Fun

Closed Caption Interpretation of Herman Cain's Speech at the Clear Lake Tea Party:

A pad. Dot girl. Distant baboon. Think you're going to be here, hack development moved up here. Bistros patriots of the United States, last different measured. That that should does not bar to combat bt dildo first. The strategy that Bob the whole goal to reach or dance calamity. Don with Jewish means undo do you, but he did dreams. Yeah, history cat distribution; we need to add ticket the days can't retakes crises. We had an economic crisis, we have it's not ok speeding life. It rises, we have a issue immigration crises, rope lessons. Pick policy crisis. Prevented stresses me there is a superior efficiency of leadership. It wide hack. Possibility house screech cares. Speaker lack of leadership, but it's also Slezak Patricia that's made the judgment minded people has always been that's exactly right, dot blot that decision engines. It's easy to tell you hahha. Derivation these Tracy Davis we had that same without the resources. If you look at the history of this country, we've had some thoughts excessive there, excessive time, but it's also the spread out there dead. Exhortation with a_t_t_ problems. Photography. Disgrace, but not all across this country right now, they've got a trait that right hope that we need. Pedagogy habitat, dash hard.


Closed Caption Interpretation of Rick Perry's Speech at Orange County Rally:

The unity on and is folks in there com twenty eight dollars a thank you sir for your service might be the risk of blood. We coming what I would consider to be a little bit of warm weather for a southern California and about a few believe. Uh... and uh... you know if they don't we get to live in a great country like uh.. America and orange county's bina if there's a a place in and this kind blue state uh.. yet I guess if you want to call it a rents variant of blueberry pound and here we are prod. Go ahead of time with pretty awesome it was our first debate and and uh.. speaking of first, left u, experimenting with hahaha. So live wonderful first lady etc. Healthcare spending thinks she's really focused on that small community explorer uh... throughout pedestal Socrates person and it's just which really are a lot of the American dream, and personal privilege to be here. Testers or be express United States out today. Ice that stage last night and seven other very very fine a great man it the Rick Patrick. We get into the system captain like occur respectful way I I'd be respected, but the point is, we need to have a job. The depth of moral alliance between themselves and the current president of white house. Oh monthly I helped that contrast attached hopes for Juan. Somebody made now needed planes and seventy-six Reynolds of god bone marrow. This is a president C-downgraded aircraft, unemployment at extremely high levels: we lost confidence in our country in a high-speed. This president it's there yet another state ductility other provinces and the flat fees at work here not gonna cut it. This is about an administration that these people are and that is what the Obama administration their problem expense. Mr. President, we cannot spend on our way to prostrate -- it does not work. Middle-level suit only care about jobs so that they can see expansion of more government programs. I want to create jobs so that we can create generate income for family jobs or about dignity for American workers. Family's been able to live the American dream. If you want to stimulate the economy, why don't you just eliminate the middleman man from this people you shouldn't the federal government and let the private sector keep in advance that money developing a little about that on dot the profits. Country one in six, one in six working eligible American arrogance cannot find a job. Mister President, that is not an economic recovery, that isn't economic disaster. We cannot afford four more years of behind one of the spelled stimulus this record data, the loss of our credit, induced time for change.


Closed Caption Interpretation of Mitt Romney's "Corporations are People" Speech:

To make sure that the promises we made in social security medicaid and medicare are promises we can't keep. Endeavors ways of doing that; one is really raise taxes on the moon. Bhai Sahab, Perry says people write passes. Porcelain everywhere reserves the right off the leaders of these, a with bells on -- aas have here hondacarland delays that since it was that that's at the approach that other things members the reason they surrendered promises we made a promise. Is that we can keep in my view of the reasons that it's in our hearts higher income people receiving rapid growth in their benefits and privileges you don't agree with that you want to get wealthier people bigger portion has a right, and I think we should have what's was billed as progressive index and I think we all subjects are considered on their retirement age. Those are things that should be tried excited about how I disagree with that as well. Five years, yes, they did not make promises. We can't even get his allies say this: I appreciate that capital finish Dennis don't.

my mouth is bad for you

speak of stink ranges. vocal volleys. its hot on your bad.sex

like hounds braying a donkey warm citrus surge

finger itch

body scribe

internal turning. seething teeth

like feet

everything about feet

smell lint clinging fungal folds cites of skins

homunculi tending invert steeples \\\\////

on face, on grass,

blood

rare

tunnels////////////////////////////////

real wet look

mouth is wax for moon

hands up, panties down

its on to you

newspapers on soles dragged lakes wrong type blood infusions

too rich

your weather

gots

needs

heads

wants

fors

yous