Monday, June 18, 2012


Of humankind’s first a-spedience
and the flavored frowerin fop,
whose upliftin tenses invited disjoy
of Edenic fruits intraduh whorl,
until dys creetcha—
displaced his in hern,
loosiniz perfik place: 

Chant divine syrup,
whose first taut elected dysgerm,
emergent from duh chemicals in ma mond—
a pathology:

if Turtle Island delights ya more
with its Niagara waters roar
quickened by this augur of po-rin spirit;
I here summon ye help in creatin disimpudent din

And you,
sacred resolve,
idealizin a candid wit,
indicatin Its self—
discernin; we at first
were here, potent wings out
spreadin squat gloomin astride

A pregnant chasm, in love.

What’s faint in me lot up,
What-air’s small heave high and protract;
that t’the size a this pozin task
I might assert me abidin trust,
exposin Nature’s totem to duh people
and fuck them.

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