judgement to smother a melons sandpaper-nipples into my teetsucker.

judgement to smother a melons sandpaper-nipples into my teetsucker.
by cerebella
i hoarded photosynthesis without protection into my otherwise smelly box of hiding-corner today and my fingers bleached out to transparency and my voice turned into a leopards.
recently, one early morning, i had crazy sex with a crazy dream. i awoke & my root chakra was a rubber ball pounding against the theory of gravity. my halo the mood ring was in light brite coordination screaming glittering shards reflecting cowboy moaning.
disdainful deities do not exist. i was teaching myself this when i got distracted by the idea of the afterlife being plaza after plaza after public center filled with oodles of living skeletons. i look down at myself, notice i’m the same. begin dancing all crazy like charlie chaplin.
begin dancing like charlie chaplin, when there are other objects in my relative radius. those will be my props.
i’ve worked immeasurably hard on keeping up with having a structure, whether i was ever paying attention or not. i don’t know if i can tolerate seeing all that disappear &getting my bones banged on by xylophone sticks in my sleep, as is the alarm setting commonly set on in the afterlife.
i ascertained the
that i could easily scrape the birdshit off my anima’s sneeze-protector with thrifty office mini things. like, safety pin
stapler to jam into the squishy surface so the cute noises stop popping out again and again in the same obtrusive spectacular fireworks;
and instead the wind caught my attention and a twiglet &his leaves melted into my undisclosed mind.
i do believe in aliens; i believe in aliens slithering into people at birth and fucking with them for their lifetimes. practical jokes, they call them.
i feel kind of like a sinner for slitting my inner-siblings throat, which turned out to be play’doh;
i feel like the biblical era of the linear time-line visual i’ve got would resonate a spooky voice in my nightmares;
a faulty trophy case that’ll only scare off the neighbours &get me my first noise complaint.
so i sweep onion peels half my age,
&i vacuum heads up pennies
&i bag all the shit in my backyard
&i see no maggots. i see no maggots, only dancing circles
i fathom only resting shapes and i let my dead friend rest in peace as he is
reborn into a new life as another non-cookie cutter play’doh shape i will make him
into a bouquet of lily of the valley or garlands to keep my blues away or
garlic to keep away the vampires

0 thoughts on “judgement to smother a melons sandpaper-nipples into my teetsucker.

  1. entertaining and fun. like waking up at 4:12 in the morning, seeing something on adult swim, andbeing scared ’cause it’s so weird and it makes no sense. But you laugh anyways, ’cause the level of creation, the sheer wildness, is so high.

  2. Raw as hell. Like one shotgun blast after another of head monsters you send flying at those who dare stroll by at close range. You’re a magnificent pale creature trotting ominously through the fog. The picture fits you wonderfully I say.

  3. wow thanks quillah. i love it when people read my ‘work’.
    got to see horsies today. i would’ve frenched them but my mouth is sooo dry all the time now. this silhouette out of the corner of my eye keeps shapeshifting.

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