EARTHEN SAVAGERY
Humans are animals that are cannibals of animals.
The word ornament.
Silversun? WTF? Maybe in dinosaurdays.
The human animal is a cannibal of all animals.
I wish that I had Jessie's [?] [or name thereof similar’s] girl. Woman now.
Kidhaver. Or "mother".
The Mutated Three-Eyed Duck-Billed Platypus Who Ate Bengal Tigers For Lunch In
The Nude is the title of my first painting.
"Sorry," says the soul in permastasis. "I can be of no help to you right now."
Humans are scandalous animals caked in the mask of enlightened mammals who are
cannibals of the myriad maskless animals.
Œnima. ī'm a tincan of mondays.
Humans made from monekies.
Nonwhite. And habitual animals.
Winter snow and the smell of smoke on my coat.
Tinsel, you say, you hung. For what? For what meaningless festivity this time?
Caught in the mechanical combines of endless preparation for whatever pointless
holiday is hammered in next on the calendar. Do you understand, Jilletta? Does
it strike your brain properly?
Tomorrow is the beginning of the Year of the Fatboy and Hungry Wolverine.
Will be in attendance.
A brief Cessation of fascism.
It never totally diesoff. Somewhat ingrained in Nature. It is. Is why. Human
Nature. The need of those who cannot think to have their opinions thunk for
them. Fed right to their slovenly [slobbern] brains.
Irony rings golden bells. Of course in America the bells are golden. [That is
[[and]] not a comment on the antiquated materialism of America].
You give me a limerick.
I've my own real-life limerick. Happened accidentally while speeding across a
bridge in backseat of car filled with friends. Us all bourbondrunk and
balltripping on mushrooms. "Where's the lid?"
"The lid to what?"
"The lid to the liquor."
"The lid to the liquor's lost?" spoke in a veryquick and concerned tone. Almost
sounding like "Thelidtotheliquor'slost?"
Thereof. The comfortably is gone. Left with things I never should've had in the
first place.
Hereof mistaken made although it's a better option than a bullet to the brain.
I love you In Utero.
[Treefoil]. But..........but what
about the original title? I Hate Myself And Want To Die.
The true title of Kurt's meant as a (well I guess we know now halfjoke) joke?
And whathappened to it? It ended up unlisted on a blindgirl's compilation to
raise $ for AIDS research. No. Wait..... That song was on a movie soundtrack
compilation and the true-title WAS listed. My mistake. Mymistake. Take the mist
and jam it anywhere other than
here.##$#$#$#$#$#$#$$#$#$#$###$#&^^^^%here
Are there really suchthings as
angelic bombs?
Four rivers and one fish. No dolphin-sharks to speak of. They look like
businessmen. Business men of the sea. This is River. The spoon and vein of
Ocean.
The spiderbells are ringing.
I think that means you have an anvil tied to your ankle on the docks. Anvil
slowly sinking in the water. Not yet out of rope. I think soon you'll wish the
water was made of rope.
The eater of water. SunDays and Sun Kings. Maybe I one day was once one of.
These things.
Tomorrow I'm either getting arrested. Or losing money. Or catching herpes. Or
all of the above. •. Turtleshells
painted fluorescent purple. So the creatures can walk for a hundred years with
postmodern glitter on their backs.
A bull in the heather. Wander.
The fields. Of Life. Itself.
([Let freedom bling. Inging]).
A man wearing a giant owl mask
feeds the birds on a bench near the pond in the park.
The a park. The apart.
Ripped justlike snow and snowpaper. Snowypoplar
shakes off the dusty snow.
Rest of it is ice. Making many a big treebranch crackle and plummet to the
curtained ground.
The Whiteboy colored ground.
A tincture. A laden.
Where's the breakfast in bed I was promised?- is anything ever on time?
Psychedelic. Visions. And.
No visions.
No visions except in things.
Not visions. Not Blake
or Blake-light visions.
And it's 4 fuckin degrees outside
in this neverending Winterish swill of climate [why doesn't anyone listen to the
scientists?]
Up to our necks in owls. No. Morelike up to our necks in snow.
And. Violent and Antic moodswings of Nature. [most of this could have been
prevented had we listened to the scientists back in the '80s].
Antibodies and antipodes herein.
From here. On. Out.
Hassan has been bitten. By cold? By
Dog? Bywhat?
Antibodies and antipodes herein.
From here. On. Out.
Mankind is going faster than the speed of life. Which is an evolutionary
problem. MotherEarth is not used to mammals evolving so fast. So fast and
changing her diapers. And pouring. And pumping strange Manmade toxins into. Her
atmosphere. Twenty-four seven for 200 years now. Humanity is committing a slow
suicide.
Allaboard the train to human extinction!
Slo suicide. Sloslitting of the species' wrist. Bleedingout. Manmade toxins
into. Her atmosphere. Twenty-four seven for 200 years now. Humanity is
committing a slow suicide.
Allaboard the train to human extinction!
Slo suicide. Sloslitting of the species' wrist. Bleedingout. A bleedout. Like
nonebefore.
Like none ever seen before.
Deathful things are upon me. My current perception of life. Is dead. My
apartment. Is dead.
My diet consists of massive smoke inhalation, ice cream and possible asbestos
poisoning from my ruined half-collapsed frownyfaced ceiling that likes to leak a
russet liquid straight from the kitchen light. Piss on my head. I piss in the
shower.
I live in this hermitage of ash. And grime. Grunge. And overall unkempt.
Unfixed. Uncared for by anyone.
The seedling. Even the seed. ling. Is dead. I haunted
you of this many
times before and you. Didn't listen. Or take. Any. Heed. Of
mywords. This's what then there.
Happens. To you when your compassion runs dry.bleedout. Like nonebefore.
Like none ever seen before.
Go ahead. Run with those scissors. Natural selection is done here. For now. For
humans.
For now. At least.
At lost. At last.
Magnani. Mouse.
Ah, yes. And society frowns upon
us.
Tota. L. Thanks. The Mother.ship
had it been just
a screwdriver to the south
would have missed the zap of AllMankind. And unto Its great Awakening. The
Brainstem a Rosestem turned
straight to the color of Severe Epiphany.