W H O L L Y T E X T S

 

The Fireball Isolated in the Icehouse

You're gonna be dead someday. The maggots are gonna' chew your yellow eyes out. A fool in the process perspires, the four boats left tomorrow for the present Moment. I can't touch too many inanimate objects; fuck logic, fuck logic, fuck logic! I'll be on disability till I die, getting off on cardboard or is it live? Here we are debating if we are crazy or not debating is the key word. The marbles are in the Jelly Jar. Rabies came in ahead at .000983. On this material base of Reagan's little testicle, we're all ordered to have an orgasm. Is it live or Special Dinners? Is it live or green vulvas? The BooBoo Link maniac castigates bushes on the pink lawn,calling it essential liquidation. We have warmth when it's not too cold, voice when lucidity is lost, I want the flame, the flame!!! I know the limits to what I do. I want to be aware...but I wanna' be fucked-up, my vasaline fingers stretching steel. A fire utensil! A flame. A miracle! I've gone beyond it, coming back, but I'm not going to leave it! That's my dream, to talk about this PLACE, beyond these words I'm sayin'. Ataraxia pills are banned in most western capitalist movies, the lawnmower Vatican files deep the sea bottoms,
vistas-volunteer manna. The red cucumber becomes the blue under-
garment, mental mammary craving Corpus sandwiches. In human terms, I said what...? Ecstasy. I'm not cold, just vibrating! I hope I can
do this. I can go back there this time! Anal crying over mystic adventures on the alien star-wheels. And God is just...another beer!

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