enterprising

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My whore's been many bodies
but none thine as betwitched
your emails came came came
coming song a came throng
bodies on the air
your mouth came mine
cameo come commingle
of this you were envious
yer south thigh neglected
its eastern pole west to east
thigh of rib hipped to your addiction Me Me Me
you loved this thing
paradise wanting so much your body grappled by your papa dada fix oedipus america miss
america



ii

take your typical victim claiming lefty politicque.
old time radio had a gag once . it was you.
really yes., it was her. has you up her ass.
her sleeve her sleeve like any other french language
whore bore three children to her saying. shes married to 20 years and a handful more less than nine. its old berry school gets
her whoring done. down bastard. wanted to her hold her her hold her hold her ass.
was a quotient of question mark.


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iii

in canadada the whoring's less eventful desire denies own
name more readily in the word multicultural being a euphemism for
hopscotch, globe, hair-line, come to me , quick, soft your adverb!
cut the cake, glimspe these thee rayon, didldo deep dusk up his ass, she swanked his cuck, double delved her tong, crucifixe bitextual rumour, as wish to want a parliment to gush platonic, or say

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CD forgot labels. Labile. Navile. Say. this font does not work on this template. what then. use mozilla. welll text being as an ass to genii is wish to bone its gleaning pean

indeed ~

Indeed for every brain to go there's more to little. it's paring along soup , canned to
intent , "les reves des autres " sir, yes sir, sire to its hawk , calender of every amazing story,, board ,,
not room and board to her thigh [s] baked bean ,,

of Being & nothing she's told ,,

her dress ,,, here's the place, she came, inside her lenting thighs ,,, as wished her kilt,
lifting off, high over the grace of her be(coming) & coming again as any wave does, cursed by the sigh, a fell-down calender, spell me not true, to her wishing bone , no longer an I, to speak ,


tittle to her shyster , she's bravura to her con grape leaved vie ~ .




wld peak this cress , as fun to her moon, ass to her cry , any shiver ,, does ,, me timber

,, s ,,, buster . like made the soup hefted spoon, putter'd the can, felt the tip fen, fenneled her root and "pan-can" missing to re not da in so re me fa so la ti do,
[you mean Doctor LaCan?]
is that how it end ?

come now , , you up-phrase me with yer hypocrisies and ,

she's bending down her grapes
holding to the terror dawn,
grasping heel
at each plate of soup

burled like a tiger ,,





its the bye-bye beginning of another


as each was wasp
to its told
she carried its mold outdoor
not bothering to shift the drag

on her wake in any other sender
holding her corresponding lover ,, back , his wheeled drive stuck ,, her gear ,

not a trout to play any other way ,

ducky, you see what I mean?
ducky? Ducky? d'ya See what I mean?


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take sheet here and bend coil for finding wrapping paper
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