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Schwärmerei

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    Wilts for the banners
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  • Info

    THE ERRATIC DEAD

    SPEAKING THROUGH OBLIVION

    WATCHES HIS CROOKED LITTLE SMILE SMOOTH TO RIVERS. POURS OUT THE REST OF HIS MATRIX DATA UNTO HIM.

    CLOSE TO THE STARS, OF ORANGE RUST, LENTICULAR COLORS, ELECTRIC WIND, SILVER PELLETS, AND RUSHING CONSOLE COLOR- HE TICKS, RENT-FREE, RUSHING FROM THE DARK GRAVE:
    ________________________________________
    		 OUT OF THE GRUNGY CLUB MONSTERS BLOATS SOME KIND OF PINK ALCOHOLIC EARTHEN BLUE REENTERING THE OZONE WITH AQUAVIT CONTRAIL.


    SOMETHING ABOUT EXPOSING HIM TO THE DAMP IMAGERY OF WET, TESTOSTERONE BAKED STALLS AND HIPPIE ESOTERICS AND LONG-HAIRED, GRUNGY, CLUB ORGANISMS DID NOT SPARK FULL CONFIDENCE IN DIVINE ASTROLOGY. GRAVITY FELT AN APOLOGY BUBBLE UP IN IT THROAT BEFORE ANYTHING EVEN SAID ANYTHING, LETTING IT HANG OUT THERE (IN HIS THROAT) LIKE A TOAD BLOATING. AND HE SAT THERE, BEING A TOAD BLOATING.

    COEXISTING BARELY IN THE WIDE LIMELIGHTS OF PRETERNATURAL ALIEN ACTIVITY, VEGETABLE-HUMAN STARED UP WITH GREAT FEAR AT THE ASTRO-NEO-SENTIENTS OF NOW; BETWEEN THE HANDSOME MACHINE TOWERS AND THEIR LONG SHADOWS THRUSTING INTO SKYSPACE, WATCHINGWITH FREE-FLOWING AND NOW AGITATED SENSES (AND HORMONES DECAYED) WHAT KIND OF NIGHTMARISH, DEVONIAN, TROGLODYTIC OFF-SHOOTS HE’D HAVE TO WRESTLE A LEGIBLE CONVERSATION OUT OF, (OH, GOD, HE WAS STILL AN APE! AN APE!) REMEMBERED WORST STILL WHAT ON EARTH KIND OF ROCKET-STUDDED TEENAGE PRIEST OF THE GREEN, PILLCAP, AND/OR LIME LIGHTNING HAPPILY HANDS OFF PRODUCT TO POLICEMEN AFTER FISHING UP SAID MOTOR OIL FROM THE UNMENTIONABLE BOWEL-FRINGES OF A BATHROOM STALL AND DARES, WITH DICTATION, TO GROW UP IN THE BRUISED BROKEN HEART OF THE TECHNOLOGICAL MACHINE TIDE-SEA.

    I AM A SEAGREEN GOOD GOD, ORANGE-GOLD AND TEQUILA-ENCRUSTED MOON POD. A SUNSET SHADOW DROOLING OUT FROM THE EDGES OF THE KNOWN BLOWN UNIVERSE. CLOAK IN TEQUILA SUNSET, SHOES IN HOPELESS MEANDER; FEELING ONE BRAINSOUND FROM BEING UNALIVE.
    A RED-EYED SHADOW OF CHROMATIC ACTIVITY; SEA-SIDE STARDOM; HEARTSTOPPING MUSIC; BIG BOOZE, DISCO DIAMONDS AND ACID HURT, ATOM SPIN, STAR ROTATION, CITY GRIDLINE, BOOKS OF PSALM, WALKS IN THE DARK, PATHS TO THE SPARK.


    THE GREAT MUCK OF THE UNIVERSE KEPT HIM ASLEEP FOR ONE MORE INCH LONGER.

    THE EMBARRASSING SOAKED MAN SWORE UP AND DOWN THAT THE BRUISES WERE NOTHING BUT WALKING CIGARETTE BURNS. AN ENTIRE SOUL OF CHEAP ORANGE FLAK AND OUTER SPACE RUST SLEEPING ON HER OWN DIGITAL REBELLION, LOVING TO LIVE AND REBEL AND UNTANGLE THE HUMANOID SKIN TAGS CLUNG TO THE PURPLE, KALEIDOSCOPIC SOUL. AN ENTIRE FLAVOR OF PEOPLE FOREVER-GONE THIS CENTURY. THE KIND OF SOUL YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH, FULL FACE-DOWN FROM THE SKY. THEIR FINGERPRINTS ALL OUT OF CONTROL ON HIM.

    HE HAD ONE MORE GOLDEN AGE OF TIME LEANING AWAY FROM THE CONTRAIL. A CHANCE AT CONTROLLED OUTER-SPACE. FELT THE DANGER RISE UP FROM THE EDGE BEFORE FALLING FORWARD. WATCHED THE UNIVERSE BLACK WHILE HE SEIZED ALL CONTACT AND CAMERA. TOOK THE FRAYED CINEMA INTO ONE BRUISED AROMA, SMOKE N SKY, DESTINY DICTATED, FATE COMPROMISED. HEARD IN HIM LIKE A DEEP FURRED CLOUD WITH THE SCENT OF THE PAST AND ITS LOST INDIGO BEAUTY, WILD SWEET LIGHTNING HUMMING WITH THE SOUND OF JUNGLE GODS: HEY, FROM THE AGE OF SATAN-BEATERS, BIBLE-THUMPERS, PHOTOGRAPHERS, PORNOGRAPHERS, DISCO, JET-SETTING SUN DOG DIAMONDS AND COUNTRY CLUB CONTRAIL COMES THIS WEIRD RETIRED PAGANITE / A-MAN-WHO-IS-A-SAXOPHONE-RITUAL / CARDIGAN BIGFOOT IN CHEAP SUNGLASSES. WATCHES YOU PULL FROM THE GRAVE ALL THE GLITTER OF YOUTH AND SUNRISE AS HE SMILES THROUGH MOOSE TEETH, A THIN LAYER OF CARDIGAN, AND THE WARMTH OF MOTHER UNIVERSE: "SUPER! YEAH! I— " PLAY THE HOPELESS PRIEST, DAMIEN, DUMMY, DEIMOS, HERE TO FLOAT AND INCARNATE, BARELY ALIVE. SUCKING IN THE LAST EDGES OF A HEARTBEAT. I GROK U, DISCO CHRISTMAS ERASERHEAD AND MODERN ORANGINA DRUIDS WITH YOUR FLAK CANNONS AND BARELY SUPPRESSED SCHWÄRMEREI. "I'M SICK, SISTER. I NEED HELP," HE CRIED, "I NEED PRAYER, MEDICINE, SANCTUARY, HECK, I NEED THE WARMTH OF A WOMAN, AND A GOOD FARMER'S MARKET."









    SHE LOOKED DEEP INTO HIS PRIDE AND— "NO, I DON'T BELIEVE YOU DO," SHE SAID.







    “I’m not worried because I see you there, in the breaking, having done what you needed to do. I also see you having not done what you needed to do. Who knows what’ll happen next.”