Obscurious

Outsource your diatribe

For thirty cents an hour

Alleviate your condition(s)

With extended well-sprung

Pantomimic shows of her

Gratify your suspect

Coin-dance lair of tricky

Coddle the park bench

As the soft hands lay with me

Pour the milky function

Straight from it’s tap,

A bovine beauty known

Colloquially as “nominal bessy-jane”

Driven to succeed, despite your every attempt to fault your wrist—

Backgammon supersets of clustered polarity and inner-thought

Conformity, are but symptoms

Of a mantra…much larger than anything built by hand

Easy solvency

The easy out

Forget what it is, of which people talk about

Forge a path, all your own, from individualized stylistics and obsessive push

And if so, if be it strikes the kindling right

Your spark will be belittled from all those

Irreverent sheepling eyes—copy, ape

Polecat thief…(but) won’t make a difference, as to what those carbons think…cause when you strip away the dye and tasty tinge from flavored milk…its still milk….it still comes from cows…unless it doesn’t…

Strap the vine

Squeezing ink

Into cup…

Drink.  Drink. Slurp, sip…(and) there’s a

Little bit of red still lingering upon the right portion of the smile’s curve

“That’s ok, will taste better when the purity’s been earned”  and I think (outloud) “?”

Toss the leopard in her cage

Dig up the scaffolding beneath well-behaved cadavers sleeping, in suits, in suits so many could use to make a first impression, much more civic, much more human.  BURY THE DEAD AS THEY CAME TO BE,  Let the cloth alone, let it the F(#@ alone

…and the fragments of neuroses simmered.. still

I could feel the asthmatic truncated air.  Stale. Dimmed (and)…

Forcibly (entering

Calm)

“Boy I sure could need the calm of rest” some voice inside me dressed the space with, that middling, meddlesome, bead (lets) of sweet, sweet, sweat and decaying decanters of decadence…

Before the next elixir in geltab coats arrives to play,,,

Steering wheel

Abracadabra

Drive me

Drive creation forward

In some whacked out expletively laden flash-bomb emotive carcinogenic shell of amnesiatic afterthought in-glow

Hop open the trove unearthed… Bless the tomorrow UNREHEARSED

…and the ground, or floor, or whatever polity that you dear term— where soles lay to rest, when not under the weight of homosapienated duress— started feeling awfully tedious from the too, too frequent tapping, of toes…nervous, nervous, little toes.

In the kitchen nook…

Piggy-back pork-cut loins, lathered in balsamic vinegar, afloat in boiling 450 degrees or some temperature unbecoming to the flesh of swine.  Hunger pains, far too great…(starting to bawl) outloud.  The Carrots, co-companions of this soon-to-be-eaten, danced in an orange glaze, as would be done, by any number of underqualified synchronized swimmers, caught in some sort, of Halloween Fete-like celebratory soiree, where showing off is mandated…so I guess a dip in the lake of water dyed pumpkin, or vice versa (matters naught) would have had to do.

…and then, the pill’s orgasm clicked, as personified by that first warm sweat originating from the just under hairline mark and the ocular tendency of flashing those pearly blood-shot whites, unbroken yet.  But soon, very soon…the tributaries will expand/expunge…the light—slowly stretching light from distinction, slowly providing an opinion on their irritation’s cure…Sleep…well deserved.

I outsourced my diatribe

To some other me

My condition has not alleviated

But at present, I don’t care

For I feel nothing.

…doo doo doo deedle dee doo doo do.