Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Baptized in the waters of flumpff

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FOURTEEN WAYS TO DESCRIBE THE RAIN

                                                               -- after Hans Eissler

dripping
hydrological
spam

inadvertently
randomized
leaves
mashed
into
a gory
pulp
on the
sidewalk

in the
clouds
of failure
we are
purified

then
Alice
dusted
the gunpowder
off her
petticoats

these
little fingers
are speaking
my
language

they
are
gay
hooligans

je te
dirai
vous

o
the
wild
wind

God bless
our dead
Marines

crinkled
teardrops
serenade
my wild
& foolish
heart

do thou
nothing
till angels
lie with
earthworms

the harps
of ancient
temples
are heard
by psychotic
einzelkinder

or: kill
your
television

covering
the screams
of dying
electrons

desert
rains
fall upon
the blue
anthers
of the
polemonium

if I could
be rain
I'd wash
down
to the
Bay of
San Francisco

but still
I surf
upon the
twattish
waves
of ungovernable
indifference

last year
Maurice
moved to
San Luis Obispo
and opened
a thriving
dental
practice

weather
report:
ein gottverdammtes
saumäßiges
dreckwetter
ist das!

but
that
night
at tahoe...

silver
dollars,
bullets,
rockets

sugarbaby
i baptize
thee with
the waters
of flumpff!

this
world
is lousy
with
strange
ideas

for example
current
symphonies
of abusive
meterology

now
feed me
with
your kisses

and the black
planets
of your
eyes

naked,
stoned
& soaked

take my
breath away,
no better
not

defibrillate!

bring me
bags of
sunshine,
heliocentricity,
bring me
no more
pain

few can
recall
what they
dream
at night

eelish
delvings
(Sylvia
Plath)

do not seek
to ignite
the deeply
concealed
munitions
of my
love

pretty swell
explode


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