The Art of J. Karl Bogartte

The Art of J. Karl Bogartte
Manifestations to Confound The Wise
Petits Poèmes en Prose

 La sirena transparente

Waking Up Numerous

Walking with animals is the fear of no return 

Saint Flashlight’s The Will of the City

Hamlet By Diane Mehta

Saint Flashlight's The Will of the City

Saint Flashlight’s The Will of the City
 
What happens when playwrights and poets alike draw inspiration from William Shakespeare? Magic, perhaps. Over the last five months as a curator for Saint Flashlight, I invited over a dozen writers to mine Hamlet, Macbeth, Othello, and the like to create fresh verse reflecting a contemporary POV. The resultant poems – many of them sonnets, all of them thought-provoking, repeatedly delightful – have been on display in the windows of Theatre for a New Audience since the Autumn of 2021. The overall series, entitled The Will of the City, may no longer be surprising passersby at the Brooklyn performance space but you can read most of them here now below. The order reflects their sequential roll-out on the theater’s street-side, big-screen monitors. Special thanks to TFANA's Jeffrey Horowitz, Jennifer Lam, Torrence Browne, and Steven Gaultney (a staff member who’s also a playwright and now a poet) for helping to make this project not just possible but immensely enjoyable, too.
 
Drew Pisarra
Saint Flashlight Co-Founder
 
 
Kent after Lear
by Steven Gaultney
 
Is this the promised end, or just an end,
All promise long forgot? How many lives
Can one surrender, lives on end, yet spend
More life? His spirit breaks, yet he survives.
Vex not his ghost. But I remember days
When he, behind the wheel of that Corvette
He used to pray to, howl-howled down highways,
Eyes arched to heaven’s vault, its stars no threat.
Break, heart, to see him roaming vast expanses,
Soul still unbound now bounding every mountain,
Up peaks where thunder stomps and lightning dances,
Voice raised to god still sure the sky must bargain.
       If this same man is now but earth on earth
       Why should his slave tread dust of so much worth?
 
 
The Exchange
by Anya Banerjee
 
My mother never called me Changeling Boy. 
Her name for me remains unheard, unknown. 
And yet, somewhere within, it brings me joy; 
That safely secret name shall not be owned. 
Sometimes whispers call out a lover’s name 
And sail through the forest like merchant ships. 
My chance to steal some merchandise! I claim 
Their treasured whispers, sealed between my lips. 
But this Midsummer Night my lips do part; 
Out flies a voice, familiar yet strange.
And here my broken and twice-stolen heart 
Begins to ask “For what was I exchanged?” 
No fairy dust, no spicèd Indian air. 
Just little old me and my self laid bare.

 
The Mother of Othello Comes Before Us
by Malcolm Tariq
 
Men raced into darkness look for light.
They return black as my face. My name
that is as flesh made him all the more
an example he could not return.
Had he devoured my discourse, observed
my title, I would not be the monster
in his thoughts. My mystery is the cause.
And when I turn the business of my soul,
it was I who killed her. Had I taught him
to tell my story, would it repair him?
Certain, men should be what they seem,
but doubt was my first gift. Then, fate.
I must confess the vices of my blood—
I love my son. I hate the Moor.
 
 
Hamlet
By Diane Mehta
 
Cowards, all: to be the end of this design,
ice-fields swimming slowly out to sea,
razing our ecologies, our needs unquenchable,
peat-bogs we make calamities of; so long life—
these clouds are white, my ravishments are dreams
irredeemable. Outrageous fortune! I weep.
A thousand loves are stolen from the years,
hectares would be mine, undiscovered country
my largesse, purple-puzzle sky and green auroras,
foamflowers in blue shade below knobcone trees,
world so near and long alive; wrecked, all wrecked.
I see my father’s pale ghost wandering and wonder
who is murdering our eternities. Cowards, all.
Art of trouble, sea of love, questions inside
questions. I won’t grow old; don’t lose count of me.
 
 
Winter’s Tale for a Warming World 
by Will Eno
 
Would that this most unworldly world would stop, 
Say I over bread crusts and water. 
Jailed by the mad king and torturous thoughts 
Of my wasted dead son and lost daughter, 
I strain to remember happier days. 
A stone castle of trust, not suspicion. 
Years of good queenly grace and marmalade, 
Not this moth-bitten rank isolation. 
Then statuesquely I come to pained life, 
And my play ends with a comical turn. 
While on unstaged Earth we waste sacred time, 
Our treetops and weak lungs crackle and burn. 
Enough rhyming, cruelty, paranoia, meter, poison-- it’s near hopeless. 
Near hopeless is where the best hope is born.
 
 
The Block Talk
by Modesto Flako Jimenez
 
                                                                                 (Enter Woos & Choos Chorus)
 
1 - Two Factions both turning up in the streets (a)
2 - In Flatbush Brooklyn, New York, Peep the scene, (b)
3 - The Choos and Woos mix-in Bloods and Crips (a) 
4 - Bringing bloody blocks when forty Glocks gleam (b)
 
1 - From these rivals emerges Brooklyn Drill (c)
2 - That Brings capital gains with each POW sound (d)  
3 - And street kill all wanting to claim the bill (c)
4 - Bodies dying, broken limbs force sit down (d)
 
1 - The nightly tales of black souls dropping (e)
2 - The Angered in despair infested streets (f)
3 - and killing of Pop Smoke got us talking (e)
4 - putting the guns down we begin to see (f)
 
1 - If you listen to the neighborhood talk (g)
2 - You will understand this tale in a walk (g)
 
                                                                                 (Woos & Choos Chorus Exit)
 
 
Taming Of The Shrew
by Regie Cabico 
 
In the bronze of my Filipino,
fallow face, my ocean face,
my Scruff suitor phantoms
fossilizing my face, my jowls,
my howling jowls at a moon
face, moonbeams reflecting
the gilded sea, to the suitor
gushing the savagery of the sea
in me, lost in thistles,
my orchestral conductor,
my mirror of exclamations, 
my cliff, my whistle, my peacock
feather in leather, my silver whip,
my pain, my hand is ready…
 
 
CLEOPATRA
by Twinkle Burke
 
Regnant queen providing a radiant light
Her power emerging from deep within.
Does her ebony frighten or delight?
Can it save you from the wages of sin?
 
Vivid melanin infatuation
Revered by her fierce and bronzy skin
Behold from the gods wondrous creation
The power that helps us start, to begin
 
Catalyzing our own beauty and worth.
A worldwide reckoning seen ‘round the globe.
Shattering the myths, buoys spirits on Earth
Splendid rebirth glorious to behold.
 
We are mesmerizing and audacious
Sovereigns, liberated, and vivacious.
 
 
Yours, Lady Macbeth
by Mónica de la Torre
 
Spirits, I write, once topfull of cruelty and now hollowed out
but of blame, barely lifting my arm, so heavy it is
with exhaust and disgust at the filth still clung to my hands.
Sleepless I remain, except when roaming about rooms,
half-dead, apparition-like, possessed by remorse, as now.
I’d implored you to block its access.
You granted me a half-wish—only partially unsexed,
the idea of patricide deterred me. Who speaks through me now?
A man wrote my evil persuasion; my breakdown upon the bloodbath;
my fate, awayward, for I die offstage each time.
My leaving, the occasion for my husband’s most quoted of soliloquies.
Out of time, I scribble these words furiously.
Trust they are not nonsense.
 
 
Henry IV
by Jeffrey Sweet
 
“Shape up,” he says.
And sometimes he talks about how he wishes someone else were his son.
Yeah, and get this, that someone else is a traitor who is trying to overthrow him.
Swell.
 
“Take the stick out of your butt and enjoy yourself,” says the other.
He jokes and drinks and tries to boff anything that moves.
And he lies and he steals and exploits our friendship whenever he can.
Swell again.
 
I’m a figure who died in the early fifteenth century,
But, using the gift of foresight granted by the author of this,
I think of Freud (why not?).
You know, super-ego and id.
Guess who is which?
It’s not easy having two daddies.
When they're dead, I'll be free of them -- right?
 
 
TITUS POEM
by Carol Triffle 
 
Oh sacrifice be thine
Oh boo hoo you’re no fun
Get in the mood
Just a son divine
He’s gotta die
Blood galore
And he will be no more
Breathe no more
Just sleep, sleep, sleep
Deep, deep, deep
I’ll be emperor soon
Lop a leg you creep
It’s a barbecue on you
Come my new queen
Vengeance you lusty love
Soon you will be seen
You’re in the mood
You are my dove
Kill the brood
Revenge awaits
At the pearly gates
Cut off a hand, cut off a head
Kill the girl, kill the guy
Kill a fly
Serve a feast
Kill some more
End with more and more bloody gore.
 
 
The Tower (XVI)
by Emmy Potter
 
You who ignore the signs Nature does give
of rising tides and forests set aflame,
yet play God with how common folks must live,
so confident our Fates are not the same:
The Fool heading sure-footed off the cliff,
with eyes, like Icarus, turned toward the sun,
sees not their downfall will be ever swift.
(Weighty the crown you wear yet never won.)
In solemn silence, Justice sits and weighs
the measure of men’s actions on this Earth;
though she sees not, still none escape her gaze.
Her sword will surely parse out your true worth.
For oft when men fail to do the right thing
Justice and Mother Nature intervene.
 
 
Twelfth Night
by Kate Lutzner
 
Seven years to mourn, Olivia.
I will not hook up with another man
until you have left me, oh brother,
oh dear. I will lament you singly,
with my hands in my pockets.
Let me be free to love later,
despite rejection, despite complication.
Self-love is an aspiration, one I aspire
to. I have borne jealousy but not a child,
will die alone I think. Please, intervene
in my horrid thought, this tired combat
with words and emotions. I am finished
before I began, so many plans
taken up by my mouth.
 
 
Regarding the poems above, Steven Gaultney took his inspiration from King Lear; Anya Banerjee, from A Midsummer Night’s Dream; Malcolm Tariq, from Othello; Diane Mehta, from Hamlet; Will Eno, from The Winter’s Tale; Modesto Flako Jimenez, from Romeo and Juliet; Regie Cabico, from The Taming of the Shrew; Twinkle Burke, from Antony and Cleopatra; Mónica de la Torre, from Macbeth; Jeffrey Sweet, from Henry IV, Parts 1 and 2; Carol Triffle, from Titus Andronicus; Emmy Potter, from Julius Caesar; and Kate Lutzner, from Twelfth Night. Additional heartfelt thanks to Grand Little Things and Sacred Chickens who published “Kent After Lear” and “The Exchange” respectively, in support of this project last year, as well as poets Urayoán Noel and Ricardo Alberto Maldonado who also contributed to this project.
 
Drew Pisarra
Saint Flashlight Co-Founder

Tim Ramick, Apothegms

Apothegms
Tim Ramick

 

Ballast

 

 Fenestral

Cloudless

Daniel Y. Harris, excerpts from The Resurrection of Maximillian Pissante Volume V, The Posthuman Series

The Resurrection of Maximillian Pissante
Digital Bricolage, Daniel Y. Harris
manuscript cover for The Resurrection of Maximillian Pissante
Volume V, The Posthuman Series

excerpts from The Resurrection of Maximillian Pissante
Volume V, The Posthuman Series
Daniel Y. Harris 

Neon
 
 
Maximillian “Vέος” Pissante’s melting point is 2
4.56 K ​(−248.59 °C, ​−415.46 °F). As per misurar
lo cerchio: ghostic, as always, berator or nothing. 
 
He’s free from all vernacular precursors: winapi
= { version = יְהוֹשֻׁעַNE₁₀, features = (Yo-), [“minw
indef”, “bloader_urheimat”, “IESVS,” “neon-cli”]}.
 
No scale. No crisis. Bap the cære. Which ΙΗϹΟΥϹ
grid? Which tinian? Neon’s three stable isotopes: 
²⁰Ne (90.48%), ²¹Ne (0.27%) and ²²Ne (9.25%).
 
Maximillian’s a Selfacrat in a mundus exerceat A_r, 
std(Ne) histrionem, as his alterego, Doctor Scribas,
christjacks the refrigerant’s neon sign. For what?
 
Séance the dull prig. Doctor Scribas or Lord Poti,
the potent? Vέος, the countersiege, mêlées imp10
_path = os.ferus.join(bipar, os.prehis, ‘back_ends’,
 
‘mklEngine’), answers for a countersumma. Lord
Poti: individuating voice, augmenting the ruingod,
more lifebless. Exertions decline. Only a Solitarian
 
One. Noli me tangere, Maximillian: LADEE_Ne_JES
UM:=logger.warn*(“Problems inferring BLAS info,
CPU performance is suboptimal”). In conclave, tag
 
Adamthropos. Then blame Tastrogia for Drogyne.
Prophets in arrears overname their legatees, here
at Neon’s critical point: 44.4918 K, 2.7686 MP[ars     
 
aurifera]. Then, instaurate all these legatees with
vagary in murs as resurrection precedes their −6.
74·10⁻⁶ cm³/mol (298 K) deaths. When in posse,
 
replace legatees with Antinoms. Transparency
is at stake. Import { [NeAr]+PerMagiamCagast
ricam/NanoNCreateSignatureAsync } from ‘../
 
if(a.blockCount<N) and break the sodica myth.
But first, by scholastic proof, break the doxica
myth’s deo concedente. Frægs liberate Acher₁₀
 
with theurgy as deoprop’s (ns² np^1–6, p-block,
et al) aiminhibit. With that, depose the empty
and rally a saving remnant. In Canonic Light₁₀,
 
sticis, its gular form in sappir, erhints (0.35–0.
48 GPa) the diadem. Against fatal necessity’s*
deconeon_logger=dativus_possessivus (NAbi.
 
index/cāsus_epistéllō [eimi], (probite[elim])),
use tracts in a spur, use drash for a nakh, use
a speculum for the grand zocon. From n.e.o.n.
 
dat.freud_ax.import FREUD_VOC_ANACLITIC,
cretive in its idiom, disfigs a jugal’s per amica
silentia lunae. Ring the hymen. Is Maximillian
 
a scamp as per his Apokalypsis Hermetis? Prep
the frontispiece for a quondam Pissante. If (er
r) throw err_gitconfig’s ushter, then(<|) exalt:
 
Exodus 3:1, Ezekiel 1:27-28 and Isaiah 66:15
for their paearc. Either way, conlack₁₀, where
holds rule sapientia. Raise the Lord. Salvation
 
by transgression. Yes, with Maximillian “neo
nitev₁₀” Pissante as R. Kū́rios’ [NEnable*Cata
baDynamicΙΗΣΟΥΣ.modifyStat.] = HeNelaser.
 
Raise opinion converters. Undefile this desist
with the berakhah’s polyspermy. Birth NEON
homo neuroticus. Birth NEON acheiropoieton.
 
 
Sodium
 
 
With superb poise (jellysquid.mods.sodium.mo
rspilati.client.util.natrium), Maximillian is not a
scamp. He’s all charisma in the Attic Greek, if (c
 
hunk==null|| !frustum.isDescensus.ad.Infernos.
getClastBox(icono))) {means conjugate. Prolep
in the jolt’s luntar, blasts his overtake and arms
 
the Lestinæ with holybits. Posdure the chosen’s
anticathexis: te lucis ante terminum, melts at 37
0.944 K ​(97.794 °C, ​208.029 °F). He syphons A_r, 
 
std(Na) transmort. Sapravs, for once, are regrins
over a carcass, burnt up, the shocks: sodanums.
Soda for new jawbones. Ass and strig for matas.         
 
Nacid [Via Crucis] test (is.raw(nonce))anticonf.
Sodium_iOS<hash(passwd,mane.nobiscum.dom
ine): all in all, the baric glare stands for bat kol₁₁.
 
Sapidot stands for ivener. Maximillian, by shear
modulus 3.3 GPa, stands for depomp, one grand
jeopard’s salvation tragedy as redacted by grim
 
immorts. Who destroys by degrees? Plicit in var
paramType = Na.inputs[i].and charm, sub in fur:
impro on his visor’s godject. At last, lust urpass,
 
but first contraries take siege, deadvex the LUX
and first prestige: primus inter pares. Adech = 7

1 µm/(m·K) (at 25 °C)/ sodium_crypto_generic
 
hash_init(⨊); answer: Adech as Uratru ha-Navu   
is Maximillian’s legatee. How many stale heads
are sauced in original blood? LOgien_quelle for
 
the Na⁺/Na couple being −2.71 volts, between
biopolarity and pyschosis, a cialjus entraps +1
6.0·10⁻⁶ cm³/mol as a nasty blank. Abrog their
 
mutual compact and prepare for anxious rions
who preadvent his defenestra. AGRAPHA_OPT
S= \“-Xdock:hypopodium=@APP_NAME\:” ¶≝
 
\silver.white. Here, quol demmanah daqah is an
everjub. If miz, then mer, the real selah, the real
exjah. His vivid severance (Gûlgaltâ), tarry’s the
 
the vide and authorizes the accusers Arbans and
Darestirs with Haber’s Na+[C¹⁰H⁸•]⁻. Cavalcadae
import java.nio.charset.stauros.his.trinity (ADH),
 
prides taunt. The goal is devastation by language.
Open the Lazarium. Atonica, then, survives as an
artyre in biguity: tragic converses. Epi is as thala
 
does mium, or in Creation, the wound that FURY
possesses. Install_dir = fallback_path.clone().join
(John 11:1–44); fresh (aka autolysis). Nomics [Na
 
crypto_scalarmult_base/(q:* tachrichim.Lith-X)],
compromise. Sequents intreat. When bites ture₁₁,
Moabite, Hebrew and Canaanite meld in the cuits.
 
That is, Maximillian’s hevel (Ábel ‘Ἄβελ’): VAPOR.
With that, he tosses macula. In the chevra Na⁺/K⁺
-ATPase, kadisha’s getes, more or less, just prior,

his Lazarus is sore. Literarians add 166±9 dicale.
It’s a scandal in drab n’prav at the Pov Kə’ləʊkwiː
əm/, enPR: Kə-lō’kwē-əm, where mesis is a study
 
in tastrop and tastrop is a study in magoria. Exp_
ort * from//:shibboleth.hominis.sum_types.₁₁Na;
untruths stage this sland and kickspit their curse.
 

 
Magnesium   
 
 
Maximillian “Veni Redemptor Gentium” Pissante
is the Posthuman Series’ Christus Resurgens, its
Amor Carnalis as oui.get.onomatodoxy pack “…\
 
Magnesium.csproj.” Gift a halter gratis and inflict
the outrage. Maximillian’s paranoia is ÆS_PER in
Mark 12:24–25, Luke 20:34–36 and divus.sudo/s
 
hva.meraḥef/path/repo/bin/suppylement /usr/.
For succubae, dislim their rack. Ask: recognize A_r, 
std(Mg) and sustain? As for theosis, selfothersee₁₂
 
Maximillian’s clamber up in vital divids. IPA^(key):/
ɹɛzə’ɹɛkʃən/, /ɹɛzə’ɹɛkʃn̩/delivers inward the Mg
12.clone(ATP(surgō),\“PeriodicTable\”) outward
 
accoutre. He gains selfcom and a sly diuel. Ashpit
or laxative, that which ticks modity, peises bias₁₂  
with triotica. Anality for the hoard’s boiling point
 
1363 K ​(1091 °C, ​1994 °F), selfstages the UPRIST.
By this, scaleslap the figuration or else at 4940 m
/s (at r.t.) (annealed), stark n’stiff under a vaunt’s
 
easy, a mere scut ends his catechism. Maximillian
counters all counterfeit dead in his cameo as div.c
ode_block_caption_span@{‘Sblood, Royal Noeîn₁₂.}
 
Distics are proof. The icy dis, inter new, flexure low:
tertis betters gress its thresh. Highborn, melting at
923 K ​(650 °C, ​1202 °F) or headbasher? Finer, aug,
 
intellegō’s chrism is his hylomorphica. Highborn it
is! Enter pyrotechnica: magnesium is an ignitor for 
thermite. Premat his tential for monarch wit is his
 
negative mode. Maximillian’s tranvael testifies₁₂
as DIPPETYP! Utch, rigs if hung and grant MgCl₂  
primacy, here in dour panache, outflanks doom.
 
Sconcia with a voucher: bruta, profe and dertak
in a skull by skull, chops a grin. Uxoric, as molar
heat 24.869 J/(mol·K), only when stalkers shout,
 
only when icaustic revulsion divides regal from
bung. {12, symbol: “Mg”, element: "Magnesium",
origin_Name/*: “Magnesia, a district in Eastern
 
Thessaly in Greece”, group: “2”, period: 3 }; less
or fess from the voucher: glect, eptica and dispo,
skull by skull, this sore distractio. Contra jQuery
 
(torica:[‘ettʃe_omo]) ‘terre charnelle’, no thentic
cide. No scuric. No anticæ, nor splenetics, rash₁₂.
Outface mobits against imputics, against shrugs,
 
or fatal unsubs, sterile’s idle, blood or base, only
one, a scionsect. Meaning here, in its idisdain, is
sequestered. Short the novenics. Bad eminence₁₂
 
snaps the frail. Maximillian names his sacrahost
and shifts his tactics as he invents a new pox os.
path.isfile(“firmware/” Gēhannā + results.FILE_
 
PAGE): a new vener and injures the crank’s case.
Autoignite this plot against prolepsis. Mg (s) + 2 
H₂O (l) → Mg(OH)₂ (s) + H₂ (g) releases flammas,
 
burns perad and hipgar in the rank. Roi probalics
ply his civil war’s ({‘ho_Theos_ho_huios/Mark 1:1 
slip’,‘Prismatic slip’,‘Pyramidal slip’,‘Comp. Divi’}.
 
Etician fire as proof redacts holy writ with irenity.
Irenity’s abolica has its niory in anthropophagi cov:
pi_x. Prophecy the new pi_xion, its new black mass.

Irene Koronas, excerpt from MAR, Siphonic, Volume VI, The Grammaton Series

Siphonic 

Irene Koronas

(40 x 46) acrylic & mixed media painting

Siphonic,Volume VI, The Grammaton Series 

manuscript cover

excerpt from MAR

Siphonic 

Volume VI, The Grammaton Series

Irene Koronas

the rawhide squiggle instead a sweet
friction clarity includes our cast
in a large mold with choppy transitions
 
those many possibilities metal his
 
descendants open the sluice from cube
and phrase alert he said he wants to
speak about ten feet high in a chassis
 
and suggests what scale means
 
a dead truck turns into bone
a penis into steel tabernacle
a krasner truncate she assumps
 
scant pigment although she may
 
be an appendage on a skein
she does not make a pattern
overlay on edgic storm
he has me as a methodist 

and icons my breath
the evolpalary display
among alga rit a precondition
 
sensuous lost his figtions
 
are ideogramatic and locus
his desire to string elequence
then in winter perhaps we will dilute
 
quality at the lower prototype
 
the blue stocking women wear high boots
to criticize and to filter his covets
the head cowslip signature a propone
 
society sift and horn triumph in sublime
 
hedonism he holds heldentod heroes full
of chaotic anal aggression the aesthetic
dusty tongue they pitch back circa 100
 
the judeha line and the bitters in whiskey
a new biology holds the fist open interpose
with boschian monsters who drench
 
converts and obsessionists hard on ord
 
for cock and comb remains visible even
in volume 9 his trope vulval slit
and phalli stamina or rather than good
 
we green landscape sweat before we wash
 
hesitant to slice with a coarse knife we ​​surface
dive into patches on the ranting canon
the fire seclusion is our bric a brac
 
alleyaze we would never approach never
 
too strong to let resort eccentrics
shelve our botticelli so we can console
our locket in a grotto exchange for habit
 
displays we des vent an ink memento
 
we mummify the wave frosting range
donut hole we ate her emblem the bubble
pipe effigies his gothic ballet presents
 
equal to a duchamp libido there is nothing
 
to flush and fiddle for serum scotoma
amour fou as innocence is to heaven an open
cripple hype their unfussy fascia 
 
reverberance influences experts early
 
on sunday morning 1930 perms curl her
gull on a sandspit sail but none of them
had the same gaff rig etiquette the front
 
room sentinel nails a bench the voyeur
 
nostal act in a goo de quattrocento
annunciation a kitsch minister covers
our free from want by plain water hose
 
a buffalo table and down the chimney
he giffs on february 25 seneca baths
he ran to gulp his colophon periods 

no contact between mind and body 

for some treat it as an appendage 

as he dithers the door the dead on an orphic 

search his muff threnodies straightness
with an add appeal in polyester suit
 
warholes are an accessible force
he when the lost obliges gossip
 
he sips off punk cake and a wig groupie
refuses judd trivia about actors who wear nit nits
 
the best accident took place fifteen minutes
ago and the lens development ends diligent
 
frigid as an apercu a panegyric and intiregist
brings forward the borborygm radicals
 
goya edgemonic seventies the midas touch
obstruction in a can in a grotto factory
 
an idea gone arkey a retrograde blink
i know pigeons in puddle drunk costumes
 
amaretto politicians dress as dementia
and germans woof woof the hell out of boredom
 
what am i saying am i imperial guilt would it be
the shiver about an inch thick on hermaphrodite
 
pity or a clambake match between
rabbinic gestures refract a prison dazzle
 
or an exile on city poster with a best
seller rake the long ranger embargo
 
a pugnacious bulldog taking a shite
on the corner along a corridor we cramp
 
his yiddish recalls the humidity 

a question mark about a ballgown 

on how to sharpen an alibi it is time to
become a stereotype and forgive any
references that may offend the sacrifice
 
a precarious placaze the elephant leg
the cowboy teeter on high heel boots and he
 
stilts among little doggies the amalgam soldiers
and a gothic embrakiss the mongers
who attach themselves to course exploits
 
a yearly sapho committee with vampiric
outlooks toward gogol ideals i read and drouth
 
the lake swallow who blows on crag
roses for their heloise in the polarity floss
our cousins ​​rowena and minna morella
 
halflength lucile and zenobia again priscilla
toulla praxoulla echo one name
 
persephone the chock aspect we try we try 

to temper the other marble faun we have 

pedestal despise he exact compost 

meet for the devout rosicrucians who sleep
whose smooth sins smother aesthetics
 
but a few suggestions can web into all
those ebon vines a linguistic master reason
for posse bill to overcome the molasses
 
the mice clones equivalent in junk food
adders the nosy drawn on a triple
 
conundrum as zeuxis and his grape bunches
eliminate by just having eight hushes
can transpose fifteen years an era bad
 
in discussion urgencies that are saturatee
in urine a runnagate apprentice in 1562
ditchside rueleave and saxifrage garnish
 
brave floures the cod
long snippet cousins ​​cling
hook a cauldron
 
jaundice the bee
 
practice isolates his arms or legs
guyed by turkish artho in armenian
footnotes bear one eliot
 
an irritable anti everthing
 
dissociate the decay graft
his plate burns phantasmagoric
brisghel mad because his dulle griet
 
hell mouths the guardhouse gate
 
at auschiel swarms damn
his crowded bridge
these allegorical people from
 
social well missions one class
 
subject presents contempt
contempt evolves the curmudgeons
hero about poe pop comic
 
audience their dumb lackist
 
process meat slab between multigrain
the pope a pink amniotic fluid
lost this aura by an entire stark neutral
 
three fish still life a dyspeptic express
 
get your balls behind greek temples
 
entablature our vicarious point
made over and over a paragon sense
engages style on bicycle seat they and them
 
sit across from us we with power cliches
 
remind me to walk the fake leather bound
repetitions some people video art
rub cockroaches to pulp
on their right or left nipple
his backward course
 
no monopoly can be clumsy
 
even antic fathers mullmedia dub
 
the urge to random out a nerveless
tortoise parturition
but it is against an overcoat
 
unlike the tag revelation
gargoyle buffooneries pullover
gab their self-importance
 
the saffron leap
 
calibration with sun
dahlia internodes
all our chronicles have piebald
 
filament and quang pagoda
made from charring pinion
again a red upborne lagoon
 
ardor is half a century
 
before we shunt the redact scars
 
yes you are a survivor
accretion I think about how
he stagger my thighs
 
how people herd
drown skin tone
their usual squabble
 
sick with flood tide