Thorsday (FreeRite)

Mjilnor? -hither to fetch, that i smithereen West...

fiddles to breasts, sweet string sect! quibble be less...

riddle me, breaths--puncture aperture and juncture--

filling me chest with the treasure til we meet Death--

guillotine quest: headless, ninny bequest, illness and vexation've been pillaging NEXT

                                                                                                         in line, line inn, what                                                                                                        a villa for villany...

                                                                                        wild as a wildebeest?

                                                                                       YES

i guess it's best to press onward: on Word, willy-nilly THUNDER plunder innards for the embers amid cinders a'slumber

my number?

i've got it, i wok it for the stir,

the Friday the free-write, day before the

whatchamacallit

stalling, falling through the Gap--contraption fashioned with Fashion now masses ask about Fascism,

afraid of a half-nigger who may be masked in a

White House (how crazy is THAT bizness)

CLAP with me we will make it colLAPSE sizzle

splash griddle and giggle batter crackles a little

cackles

hackles:

minstrel in a battle entrenched bedraggled straggling East greeting the sun,

                                                                                                 the one,

                                                                                              Neo,

                                                                                   eon

and parsec,

buddy is far-fetched,

clutching thunder among digits and opposable thumb,

coaxable:

COME (quotable? -some...)

humdrum? -puts on his gun-gun, running amok

discussion with Spock: "Illogical," he mutters

a LOT

a less, a lesser, a lesson, a lessening,

beckoning a dance cosmic,

that or reckonings

Blessed Be, a Wiccan, a wyrd,

a mystic peered into a mirror and careered over clearer-seen scenic

that or demeaning daemons

obscene, topping tureens off and canteens soften often involved acidic, actinic,

ask me it's

half in it, and half out

crash down, me foine bolt

of pure silk

the sure milk

of Magnes'

cures ilk itchy

chiggers

underneath the rash

bold to the brash clash of symbol, cymbal, none, nun in wimple, tongue held

the Hun felled

the sun dwelt in a brooding place,

brugh, barrow

burgh, barrel

anam cara: so many fish, scales singing, wails bringing whales winging, mind's surfing, high scurvy, skies bursting, dye's working, lye's burning, burning lies, burning Bush and his verminous alibis

til worms're his Valentines

return of the Balanced Guy, his ballast shies, his horse rears

he courts peers when he's calumnized...for THUNDER's up under...