My Fan

My fan dribbles then shoots. He wakes like a tiger feasting in the jungle. He has a bone through his nose and shrunken heads around his neck. He sticks posters of famous sportsmen to sappy trees. The sun is the brightest spotlight we have. My fan knows his world is bigger than the rest. He is the most famous world among his worlds. Right now his first priority is to skewer three frogs and drink their blood. Then he can find another place to sleep until dark.

I don't what to add. Know what? My fan likes everything I do not. Ahhhhhh, haha. Some funny? I just fell out of my car. I picked my fan up at the Ugandan/Texan Airport. He is six feet and ten inches tall. He told a really dumb, boring story on the way to church. He crunched on the fried chicken skin as if he had never eaten a dead animal. We held hands on the way to the parking garage, and he told me he was afraid of leprechauns. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I just said I was afraid of sharks and the ocean in general.

He had to be at school by 9 am. He ate cookies for breakfast, because I had had too much to to drink the night before. Uncle Respus met us at the gate with the second half of the project. He was a real stand up guy, even while seated. I kissed my fan on the cheek and said there was no way he could fail...................... duh... oops.

Frite

Koala Killa, Monkey Butts, In too deep, In the ass dood hole readsy to fuck? Hoe Happy, My slap brain gram, doop, JUice toolips, ... Heollo, in this ever pussy wirld, I gripe about the insane prices of sucking her tit, I am losing my hands to the hate of the demon of gross girl goiter gurgle. Fire his dimple. I am sober I cry to the you, Open little negro dimonds. He is an old life going to hell I sleep It's money in the time i sheer the trine burden. Nope no one chokes. Penis greef, Noone fools demonize sinics. I inflate homo presbyterians. Hope shone Gear blown Hope happy, Homo, hegro, ny megro. Shit allova her body. Kill the fire girl. She fates hear toes in the toon tonight. In a love, Time in dimond. It is in her folding chair, hammy, grapes heel, beenas in tropical loft loofa doop shit yoo huddle under two udders follicle eroded, In time I fear lotus brooms. Copulate a hero doozen, Dozin' feeler fool hope you see my readyness hipe the gravy in the jerry funck tribe.

Forst or green fuck negroes in the holla wood as hard as demon cracks. Blake foster jilly human free son. Joke forest, human face waste. Faerie noodle time indigest a copper node. Greg has delicate feces in the topple bun fung all bee hoochies. Hobbit grumpy He shits the flood. Hope umpire notice the little boy 9 year old fecund dick fluid, He forget the reaming rape of ass blood nigga fucking human dumps, ripped anus an olive grew twenty bleeding finite metres. Hymen demon under groan hysterectomy wife with yellow fuck shits in the time really wired un fairy vampire nipple sac of tube jello just in the yelling at last hurculees jump into the open earth dew pool.

Dumpster. Hi, my girly friend. Just falling off the girth of tall skwy rapers. Is the nearest youth central pope belly in the herse was the young tungsten Opium scully, Mulder, Schoulder peeps, Peel a nickel out of the back skin fat lip hump her grimy nice greasy hiney.

He's about to go to the fair. In Hiroshima, the tipsy wait staff stills moon silly wets. Moosy troop host peers solidify no oak fern mission camps.

Crease pleasant pleasing Halifax Palestine Hermetic book. It is a free write. I know how to see the only real opposition to eyeball literature page wents. Possibly I have no lung. I hope I feel too tired to try to cry this time before the night I feel too scared to cry I am waiting for grownups to help my fertile tiny herman toast inside my up my hump in the front. Is a scary tim, Group at the golden mall in the morning the pole is forming huddle. Must hungry feeble people fire burn eyeballs hate very untrusted poop for assinine science to beg and forget the life of now and have no thing to be to do have a hunger a less much less, Have to have the real feeling of having the group love me free from determined undetermined fate face fuck me in the dick nope hate. Maybe feel he. Love the hero, he hipes the best reasons to live and feel and know and determine the furture of life among us on our own planetary unitary traveling human dust in the after glow hope reason rhythm notice love hope reason reasonable love hope hero hope love love, have it all, must love grow up hope love llama hero have a new better beloved human endeavor believe be awesome, hope to feel live see have hero health love believe belong have hope, love new neighbor, robots, pigs, nice little being, Beijing, Help, Life, little being, health belong have lovely life filled happiness in love... fire heat life everness

free free free write write write

I do this I do that i want to heal michele williams her yams her boobs her love, life, it begins with a body ends with a brain, she bellows, she blows, up a gut, up a suck. !!! Shit! She's the most sexy hot booty droppin hot bitch man golf in the hot in the hotel he is hott hot doop boop, she will hide and lite a fire inside my peen and go leen crunch and from her belly i see a frown upside down. She glows she fakes her orgasms but i know i will come in her hot hot hot hair and green allover her head with suck suck suck, and love in the night i have to go and feel her hot fuck min toes and greet the meeting mister ooooohhhh i love her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, she sexes me for honey money she sex in the head, she sex in the hot heart with sex in the yellow bed and bead and feed on my nip nip nip she sex I love be from her from her from her toes and love inside her fuck, her is language and fuck in sex i love gross greep greet noob, Love the gooble love to suck not snuck hot babie from her toes in her twat. I am so sorry for alowwing this to go on, Michele Williams, I hate to love this, It hates the hot love in the pits of cracks and nasty beds for young hot jugs and fossil groans and bones and sunken buddy lobbers. Body sobs.... her skin makes me cry ((((((incendiary))))))) i cried at the sex scene. intense movie intense movie... boobs sex boobs skin, facce face eyeeeessssssssssssssssss. actors act. fake it fake feel feel it. Pat comes home early, I cried, I wipe, the movie, masturbatory, elvish, fear, silence, alone, alone. Sad Sad sad sad sad. He man, actor, fake. neck beard, hot head. voice a voice a voice, hers. Pat here, scared, embarrassed, weerd weerd, fake, hide, minimize, shake, shakey, shakey, hide hide dive!

I am here alove. A lone. I heer, I am a fraied....... doo deep deeee, dooo dooop deeeep dooop..... alove alive, fun gun guts futs.... fucks her, alove alone alove.... nice deep, love.....

If I Were a Substitute Teacher (Ideally)

I mean no disrespect to my brother. I just wonder how I might handle the situation, which I hope never to be in, the situation of substitute teaching, I mean, at a public school in Austin, Texas.

I am sitting at the desk, colorfully, professionally, and cleanly dressed. I have written on the board, "RESPECT, LISTEN, LEARN, and LOVE." I draw a heart. "I am Mr. I don't know my name. It's Greg, but that means I could be thousands of people. Who do you know who's named Greg? Do you like that person, why or why not? What do YOU want to do with YOUR life?" Some of this is on the board and some is stuff I plan to say. I can read what's on the board and point to it. "Do you like movies or videos or both?" They say yes, I say why? I ask, where is the farthest place from here that you have been? Describe it in great detail and describe yourself and your thoughts at the time.

I get lost staring out the window, listening to their pencils move on papers. I imagine touching my penis. Not right there, but soon. I imagine some of the other penises in the room and some of the kids having sex with each other. They're not that young, maybe 14. I hate and disgust myself. I get really somber and they sense my mood change. The crafty ones try to take advantage of my mood. I erase the board. I think about going home and watching a movie. I think about going outside and eating junk food and throwing away a wrapper in the trash can. I think about the run on sentences, and I think about my thoughts and my life and directionlessness and these poor kids lives and the effect and anti-effect I am having on them.

I shuffle my feet and stare at the kids. Finally the bell rings and we all walk into the hall. I go to my car and feel happy. I drive slow and fast, and I am myself again. I listen to the music I like, and I want to move and scream.

My turnip, my turnip, my turnip trees

Yo, yo trees
Yo, yo fat trees
Yo, yo baby trees
Yo, yo mama trees
Yo yo ma trees

Yo, yo beautiful pyramids of trees
Yo, yo maternitrees
Yo, yo geometrees
Yo, yo yo-yo trees
Yo, yo my turnip trees
My turnip trees

Yo, yo maternitrees
Yo, yo geometrees
Yo maternitrees
Yo my turnip trees

My turnip, my turnip, my turnip trees

Beautiful Geometry of Trees

[this is not a Valentine]

I have such clean eyes
I cannot smell the leg between my thighs

I want music to come in me and change my color
No one eases my fear of the death of my mother

I slide along this earth as if I may live again
I may never die, if my life never does begin

Gregory, of the truth of Texas
I have no money for a Lexus

I meet a woman, who has four dogs
I have no desire - I have no restraint

I see men build houses not schools
People who do not question are fools

I am at the absolute bottom of shit
I follow a guttural whisper of wit

Please be mine - this is not a Valentine
Hands that grope bodies need to find a mind

Only grueling trials reveal perfection
Peace and clarity reward pure reflection

Coyotes Steal Sadness

Death brings you kisses dick.

Brain dead midget African albino.

There's no need for a suicide, ma'am. I'll kill you after I die.

There's no point in feeling anything. But I have to anyway since God is a damn dick.

Since I have no goddamned dick and just a sweet godblessed dick that tastes of fresh honeydipped strawberries, huh, Olivia Wilde, playing a stripper slash hooker, now I will take those 600 hundred blowjobs, prefferably before Monday, because I have an appointment in the Portal 2 universe for exclusive toilet contracts. Everyone poops, Olivia. You more than anybody. I do have a fetish for your feces, now let me mop up my penis and visit Microsoft Paint for a Rom Com and a little bubbly after wiping the grin off my mom's tears.

Carnival. Is that a place where people eat meat? I don't think anyone has a face that is not made of meat.

The trick is to not be asleep when you're awake.

One must train one's eyes to look at things as they are and notice everything.

That makes me sick. I can feel the bile creeping up into the back of my throat. I can almost gargle it. It feels chunky. Cheesy. It's hot, acidic.

Now try to grab clouds. Even when you can't see 'em, know they're there. Nowhere on Earth is the same as anywhere else on Earth.

You don't need hair. Everyone looks different at different times of day and night. Early morning is when God wipes his eyes and cracks his knuckles.

Rain comes down in various forms, in various eons, on various planets, in various universes. Sometimes, rain rains on humans. But only on Earth. Sometimes humans are under a roof when rain comes down. Sometimes feet get wet. Sometimes feet never get dry.

McBurger Salad, tomatoes and croutons.

I want to be a bad person right now. I don't want to remember what I will do, when later I feel different and want to be a good person and don't want to be discouraged by my memories of being a bad person and wanting to be a bad person.

I have to consider my future self. It comes down to going to sleep or looking at sex online.

I wish I were considerate and good my whole life. I wish I had a whole life. I want to be a baker. Or a baker's wife. I'd like my wife to be my neighbor.

Necklace made of semen. All his teeth are hollow and filled with rotten tree roots. I'ma very bady writer. Point into the white page.

Open windows are death traps. There is nothing worse than me and the internet. I am really very dead. I am like a post civil war ghost veteran with no balls and no heart and no brain and no eyes and no nose ... (just holes) and no mouth and no throat and no organs. I am very dry. I am hung up like a

poster... maybe a mountain. Maybe one cloud. Maybe a few tall trees. They have needs and cones. Home is the only love I need. Safe, beans, inside.

All at home now. I am an emotional hot potato. We're all kids. Failures are home, domes make fire. Coyotes steal sadness.

ChrumDay

Wet Asphalt Kills Careless Children

I'm a force field for your power wheels.

I feel death coming like suparstar inflation.

Pow Pow Powerwheels, Robots in DaSkies.

Brain Fudge Lighning Bugs in OutarSpace.

I forgot to forget I had forgotten.

I speak of Laura Silverman's modest bosom in my electric cherry syrup body hair remover chair.

What to do about the baby with no shoes.

Soak up the suds of bandwidth wavelength.

Silver Surfer Anal Bleaching Tokyo Rhythm Parolee Alphabetos in slinky parameters.

Bass Experiments with Robin Williams in a Suburban Timber Forest

Ask Later on Tuesday

                 I breathe wide open. My lungs are air vents. My rib cage is a busted open birdcage in the old lion's cage in the abandoned zoo in this once great city and now greatest city in this okay galaxy. Marion berries bleed in your cheeks. On the surface, butter slips like fake pancake flipping drips. Juice as high as a moon. Ask Marion, watch out for a better blue azure tiny beautiful eggs roll out of brown red and gold hens, free to roam around the house, although no one gets inside. Listless Abercrombie toaster waffles walk through a mall in dead winter as the atmosphere closes in on the helpless planet.
                  Hooray, hurrah, lights up his face, he's four years old today! Sprinkly twinkly heroic Bombay. Ask me about me later, I work, toadstools and Walmart, Ask me later, Where I am going, It is all forgotten, thus forgiven by default. Two sleds beg for more snow to cover their AstroTurf. Nothing in your stomach changes something in your brain.
                  About an hour later suits tangle glue feet smosh Elven silver puppies try to be noble and breed silky wormy desk monkeys look at scribble window plates and fires free pork taste tickle bugs run out forward grounded fault burst with opiate opaque shimmer flower tremble trample crumble demolish sinewy baked glazed frost porcupine fingertip auburn Felicia fuschia bramble grey dry dust pop cycle eucalyptus brazier frowned static Beluga scientist veiny soccer pattern on a paternal weakness slow tumor want a new brother bulbous face wishy washy Eskimow target lawn favor turn every other black colour seen and not understood violent questions purge through a vacuum straw and wait about a few million more hours to Ask.

Mom, he doesn't belong.

Mom, he doesn't belong.

I don't want to die. I keep dying. It's the same every day!

aqaaqaqaq2aq

b33qZ

Why is he still carrying you through the threshold?

Is our belonging just a fading ruse?

aaaaa... Listen to me, Son... I should know what I mean...

Terry was awake the whole time.

My sycophant intent is suppressed by the heavy light of truth.

Mom, the doors are too sparse.

I don't want to tell you. You should know. My face, face turns redder... and redder.

A red-skin man looks toward a cycloptic future, and I see the brown past in the backyard where the hairy balloon hangs from the tree that doesn't exist.

Subtle fortunes mistake our good looks for wages deterred by uninformed loungers.

Mom, we can leave. Everything is so far, anyway. So far, we have not needed any information to freshen up our cloudy afternoon drives through ashy sodden lost woodlands cut by black/grey highways.

Let's go. Make it like 5:30. I'm a game. Sorry does not cut anything. We forgive and forget and forget faster than human population growth. Sorry to be a down stroke. One only rises from the down beat.

Suffering. Less fade. Dust layers reach from floor to ceiling. Abandon me, personalized identity option.

That's dumb, honey. Why don't we say this was the first try and go to the real one, when we feel like we're ready?

We feel like we're really ready.

Between My Lips (Folk Blues)

Leave everyone in their places, so no one will get mad
Look everyone in their faces, to see if they are sad

Wagonwheel, wagonwheel, mind you don't fall off the wagon wheel
We're all right, or be all right we will
Lest we fall off of the wagonwheel

Going out the back door like a silly dog
My mom's at school and I'm at home

Licking you completely with the thing between my lips
Nothing comes between us, 'cept the come that we come with

Talking dirty while my boots hang up to dry
Listening to nothing as the breezy day blows by........

all-eee-eee... all-eee-oooo... eeee-oooo... all-eee-eee, all-eee-ooo...

Simple Stupid Humor

Safe Solutions to Unsolvable Problems

Hot Fetal Bologna

Messy Condom Exchange

If you are hungry, go to the bathroom.

If you are sleepy, consume some food (maybe a pound of sugar and a gallon of espresso?)

If your bowels and bladder are full, go to bed...

The Feelings I Have Feelings

Nothing's real
when you feel
like a dangerous oven
with no legs
arms wrap tightly
around a bushel
of hummus and togas

Jeans cost $49
except when your
crotch leaks
a whitish fluid
on the 2nd floor
of a 12 acre mall
there is a heaven-like
atmosphere of sales
and bargain bins

Hair brushes pass over
the no-fly landfills
eat the teeth of combs
compact colon makes
an arduous helicopter rescue
skies are grayish-blue
when ships displace
the locks are heavy
been nosy like
an alphalpha hampster

Tofu drumsticks for
the girl with my name
all over her face

I have to shit. Shit SHit SHOIT!
\
Listen to Nervana, Hate society

Bag of shit. Herd you like PUSSY!

I pound sausage. Plausage. Plausible.

Haver dasher. Habby Sham.

Highest Rock

the tide leaves the tortoise on the highest rock.

dear life, where do you go?

the sun sets fast, the light turns itself black.

the winds of the cosmos blow star dust

through their egg-shaped orbits, and again.

some get closer to each other,

some of us get farther and farther away.

Spines of infinity pound ceaseless dreams

toward the center of the center of love.

on a cliff, far from the red, raging womb,

the coyote sings to the full, risen moon,

songs sung for the purpose of singing songs.

That's Right, Even Though I Can't Answer You

Trashcan, you smell like bad Christmas. I cut the fingernail on my little toe in you.

The Shudderesses

may be beings in their own eternal light and damnation.
Collated by massive super novelty innerventors,
suspect of inane religions, grabbed by nacho infused
bully guarded facially braided unpopulars.
Crying like night found pigeons swelled up on sills
of darker whites than previously imaginable.
Little girls, proper girls. Soul-boned, drench-wiped
aftershocks of two five-high towers of wires
for telephonic calls to her, dice, and jumps just.
Noxious and not just for folding her brain,
but light spewing from her nimbly intimate incisors.
Backwards sheepishly fidgeting, Blake Lively,
an outer call girl with fake plastic Rhombus
Factoids skips living and fakes laughing
to surmise sunrise particle beams
at last, while silhouetting her own reflection
on sidewalks near her lullaby's grown satisfaction.
Crumpled skin sacks, au pair on sedate schedule
of Reader's Digest, noggin legumes, pasta regiment
not outlasting, none outstanding, a time for ages
to be pressed again, foreign dialogue tongueless
top beating mouth senses, overarching web patterns
of mistaking no sense less. Tomboys, tomcats,
Razor race whores scooter, scooting cooch,
Waver never being blind, bloody bling,
a rubbing of her.
Nosferatu sucks. Nerf in tune, whistling football.
The burial of the light switch joke.
Forward acrophile safer journey
a lawful contribution.



( dedicated to May Swenson and all who feel or shudder

Removal

Put a grave in heiro. I am gravely looking forward to it. I remove myself from everything. Empty child holds me. I gladly speak for it intestinally, a cat on my lap. Mr. CoffeeLips, Yes. I cannot remove myself from myself. Somethings remove me from myself. Disc Golf and dreams while asleep. Sigur Ros in the video screen. Aisles at Target. Speakers on medium. I hunger for a while.

Kerminni Blew Ferrow

Kerminni Blew ferrow, my asthma toodles min neck Jump Ouphe

Shock, Bla bock Somer gum ppherrow Grum sikki tim Durum Deick

Deemp Hurrieshk

Sex and Franzia

(Let us see how sorry we can make them.)

She texted me and asked me to come over for a box of wine. I did not hesitate to reply,
"Hell yeah. Keep your panties on."
I splashed cologne on me. I sped away in the night and in minutes I was at her door. Thrice I rapped with a knuckle. One beat, two beats... three... I lifted my hand again and breathed in, when just then the door swung open and I froze. Time slowed. I saw her red fingernails, her slender white hands, the hairs on her arms, and her soft, pale blue dress with flowery prints, concealing her young, fertile, voluptuous body. Her cropped mahogany hair hugged her luminous, angelic face, her sand-dune cheeks, bunny rabbit nose, poison-berry lips and deep ocean-sky eyes.
"Hello," she quandaried. My heart stopped, and she stole my breath. I nearly gasped and shed a tear in awe of her.
"Do come in, lonely traveler." My body acted independently of my wonder-struck brain. We slid liquidly into her kitchen, where she poured glass after glass of Franzia for us, and we guzzled it until we collapsed unconscious to the floor, our four feet nestled like a liter of puppies.
At mid-morning I regained consciousness. My face was sewn to the tile floor in a puddle of drool. I was alone except for the sounds of the birds and the sunshine. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I heard a toilet flush, and moments later she walked into the room. She looked almost exactly as she had the night before except for a little muss in her hair and some sleep in her eyes.
She yawned real wide and loud and scratched her belly. She made fair-trade coffee and organic toast. I learned my head against her warm, firm thigh, and she stroked my ear and hummed a tune as tears poured out of my face. I became erect in microseconds. She laid on the floor and rested her head on my lap. I pet her hair and smelled her feminine essence. I saw down her dress a little, and I could see on the surface that her nipples were pointed.
"Hsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss," she sighed through her teeth, perfect teeth, lovely teeth...
"Morning makes me horny, man."
"Me freakin' too," I gobbled. We took a quick nap, my head backed up against a wood cabinet. I awoke suddenly, my erection still in full force. She perked up just after me, stretched her arms to her sides, balled her fists, arched her back, wobbled her head, scanned my body, and said,
"I'll go get the petroleum jelly."
The sun hit my eyes hard as she skipped out the room.
We had to hurry and get ready to take her nephew to court in an hour.
That was May 12, 2049, and I've forgotten it many times.

THE END

Selfly Friend

I have a sexy friend. How do I. I am in love with Someone Else Or. I wanted to tell her I feel nothing for her or she doesn't matter to me. I have a textbook to read, but I only want to look at pictures of her on facebook.com. She looks like a movie star to me. I want to be in a movie with her. I have longings and passions and emotions that seem uncontrollable. They cause distress in me. I want to change something about my live and my living. I want to be with her at Spider House, at grocery stores, on the streets, at her home, at her parent's, and at shows and meeting new people and trying new things at new places. I want to throw clocks away and judge time based on her presence. I want us to reveal our deepest desires and help each other achieve everything we want to. I want to help clean oil spills and petition to only use clean energy that doesn't hurt nature with her. I want to live on a wide open plain of rolling grasses in a tiny wooden shack with clothes lines attached to it and it's windy and sunny and her hair blows around and she smiles and laughs and runs and we keep animals and go on trips closely and far away and we have families and friends we see them and hug them and tell them what we do and what we will do and what we love about them and each other and we listen and listen and we hear almost everything and we mimic and cry and dance and fornicate and multiply and blossom. We make our minds up and we lay dawn, and we spring up our sheets are draped and we make a difference and we matter most to each other and we help each other become who we are meant to be. We are fairytales and we live in cities. We drink allowance and water.

Fuckher. I peel my sweaty ass clothes right off. I danced four hours at a club place. I lost every identity I had. I heard people's clothes and saw the empties inside them. Skin seemed to disappear. Light seemed too weak to fight the dark parts of the night there. Movements erased the visuals and air was smudged. It was a nightmare painting. I hurried home where I opened my laptop and typed and four page story about a horse racing against the sunrise in a land where eyeballs were the only source of life. Tightropes were strung between the villages in the mountains. Everyone had poles. Most people were upside down and had constant diarrhea. Toes were seen as evil.

I drank four glasses of liquid and light lemonade, then I listened to the song and cried four hours when I rather would be asleep. In the morning I saw the mail come through the blind windows. I noticed I was male too.