A quantum urge

a quantum urge

dream the hollow dream of HOLLOW MEN caught in the cross fire of a
block buster movie seeping into the bewildered groping grounds of
someone elses 2nd hand reality? try to escape the sacrilegious
suburbs... try weaning your eyes from the soft lawns &; the soft
chatter behind slatted fences with a fondue fork dripping blood &;
hanging over the back of a lawn chair... remember what the street light
sees it does not record but merely lets the action pass thru its
vision... not as an intruder but more as a stranger of the courtly
graces are out of tune in this subliminal age of indiscretion... but as
of now there has to be a ration card for the rasher of bacon hanging
from a pink nipple stuck to an A frame garage... housing a LAVENDER
CORVETTE lickin its wheels like a CALICO CAT stretched out on a mid
night lawn to spawn... indelible yet indecipherable in its quantum urge
to leap upon the nearest nest of chirping birds... BON
APPETITE...

. . .

I run up stream just east of VALHALLA &; west of a HEAVEN that no
longer has a location on the map of things that will endure... a THING
to be or a THING not to be... cause it all got scrambled in a souffled
HOUSING MARKET where GOD has been rehabilitated? but the PROPERTY
VALUES have plunged below the water table set for afternoon tea &;
crumpets or crumhorns blaring to a liquidating moon? &; by golly
it's the LIFE TO BE lying in a rainbow puddle waiting for the SON to
set or settle some where outside the hard hat area &; pushing for
extinction along with the belief in the TOOTH FAIRY?

. . .

lets go nosing around in the prophetic entrails of a chicken... a
lickin good chicken... a lickin sickenin friggin place in the sun for
all to see the shadow side of the moonfaced con artist diddling away at
an inside straight no chaser? run after rapacious moon flowers blooming
in the cross fire thralls of a midsummer blush flush plush... too tired
to run or even walk a mile for a stinking DROMEDARY scratching itself
on a RETRACTABLE BEACH UMBRELLA in the shape of a pentatonic door
chimes... with crimes &; rhymes to deck out the silly season with
sparklers &; shooting stars &; fire flies glittering in the sour
mash fussing &; fuming in an oaken cast out the cable guide &;
all the phony baloney caught by the testes... show em the way to the
picture show while strutin your stuff to the cross eyed beat of a
pavement saw chompin up the street into a moonscape... scrape away the
rough edges &; leave them burnished to a crimson moan with parted
legs &; quivering thighs... plus that soft sucking sound as ORGASMA
GOLLY G has a go at running wild in a plein air flea market...

. . .

scratch &; match your secret disgust with a dilly bat syncopation
espousing a little after dinner romp in the wilds of a thread bare
desire caught in the throes of a stuck zipper...infected but not beaten
except in a loving sort of way that leaves miniature passion lesions
across the back side &; nipple marks up &; down the belly... lost
my face to the place of dead soles... filleted &; batter fried with
a side of fries making the rounds of closed mouthed door ways coughing
up the dead of nite in little purple balls... while fabled castratos
tip toe thru the tulips to a raegae beat the heat with an CHINESE IVORY
FAN cut from the BOOK OF INFINITE CHANGES...

. . .

behind a silk screen replica of the changing of the GUARDS to the
left... GUARDS to the right of way is only given to those whose clothes
are either recyclable or edible no one else need apply... send all
resumes &; comments to the DOWN TOWN OFFICE complete with a proof of
purchase coupon from a box of condoms... this does not mean that we
approve of such world weary practices but in the face of the coming
disaster... that will register 8 point 3 on the feather scaled back to
a handy size that will fit just about any pocket... but is fully
functional &; carries a money back guarantee within certain
perameters... or carry the residuals 2 spaces to the left then strap it
down &; have your way with it... wailing all the way to a scream
sized hernia hangin over the edge of a stinking pool of rejected D N A
with its little feet trailing in the waters of BABBLE LOU... BABBLE
LO...