Poem on Taschen's Compendium of Alchemy and Mysticism; or Inmate Hangs Self with own Bluejeans—For whom the Bellbottoms Toll…

Poem on Taschen’s Compendium of Alchemy and Mysticism;
or Inmate Hangs Self with own Bluejeans—
For whom the Bellbottoms Toll…
by Quasimofo

“I assure you that anyone who attempts a literal understanding of the writings of hermetic philosophers will lose himself in the twists and turns of a labyrinth from which he will never find the way out.” (Livre de Artephius, Bibl. des Philosophes Chimiques, Paris, 1741)

A cro ss my most exquisite comic shop on the planet
gusts deuce wind {mill}-er time}turbines hefting Bubble-wrap Omni-apts. of naked bow-flex geezer sporting welding torch sun-dick. /gopher me my 3D shades, pfor favor/
He’s got a Rachel Ray beatin’ the shit outta Paula Dean Easy-Meal Cookbook in one hand and smack-down rod in the other. A derby cap crown says he pays the dues for vintage Spring Break beach ball lionweiler guard-dogging 25th year bubbly.
In this Hermetic Museum, scarmoonface and starrycabeza mime-jibe
chicken-scratch diatomaceous earth into Mediterranean ISBN.
But let us first decoct the death mask upon this search and rescue sailing expedite(-e/ition)
evading Charlie Sheen’s truth torpedoes.
We’ve received pet peeve 747’s chain linking calisthenics da Vinci crash dummies who smirk as if they know something we don’t and think it’s funny [is that the true test?].
4 purr-maids on medicine balls balancing jugs of wine-turned-water
dance to Satan’s old band tuning a-twixt a linear accelerator.
Mac crochet the w o r l d in2 my crow philo bratkids pointing blame
in the general directions of neat diagrams and atomic beer keg’s Christianopolis.
Show every man woman child our keen circular explanation in contradictory calligraphy atop winding staircase ladders leading to wicked Wikipedia genius cuss… Convert dirt to gold glory god and
cons kiss tea-whores.
Oui oui si’ si’…getting over the hump can be a living hell especially when we find the hump is where we dwell [though humping is the cheapest form of entertainment and that’s why there’s billions of wii’s].
Factory patrons figet the figurer’s newfandangled firma-(breath)mint in B.C. vo id s ,
‘Heil Hitlers!’ and spread beagle buzzards polishing flagpole knobs.
Divy it out into subsection and juggle melons fanning zodiac absolution in Gregorian Taunt recess com pleat with a fortress of animal riddles. The Fall of Adam is chaos and purification of resort club [doubles as an actual stick] lake of fire water skiing UfO’s and Post- mod ern isms min i mal isms imfetus container tupper wear zip locker rooms…
Deny and any and every two of you may free your elf from vegetable chemistree.
Oh heavens to Megatron, i didn’t know she weighed a megaton!
Just pay that fox what she wants and chalk the bitchin’ to a bad day in creation.
“Order, order in the courtesans sans the cattail details!” yells the women’s work & child’s play sanatorium in a sanitarium . Bottleneck the assembly chime
trinity Big Daddy Little Shit and Spook with b/w woodcarvings!
Beat that Rattler ov er the he ad and make fake snake skin samurai swords conjunctio making out making fo ur sea sons 4 ele ment love at the arse of a flower vase.
?: Conjunction junction, what’s your motherfucking function?
Answer: Hooking up with MBA ho’s at strip-clubs and truck-stops…
(i’m a philosopher stoner with a philosopher’s boner babee…)
Melt symbolism extract from sen story per except ion con jec ture and unionize the damn sex slaves…
Androgeny is alive and well-fed with rice cakes in lighter/darknesses of the modeling Clay lego scene.  Jostle brick outpourings of reasonable emotes archetype the fire of burning pubic-doos; Crack the egg of knowledge up on the ledge then jump…scramble the herdologies…Splash into the matrix wish-for-a-pure fountain…
Pluck without being pricked; fuck without being licked;
i luv boobs and will paint my casket putrefaction mauve to save your
God-confirming/Devil-affirming tata’s.
Oh the spirit and the soul, the stickit and the hole! Christ’s blood is where we get Cabaret Savignon snipping vasectomfooleries puppet duck-tape. Divine intention rests with cutesy geometry tied bound and gag-ravished head to pinky toe-stool.
Planetary brain and Xibalba memory…i forget the rest cause it got dog-eared and my wandering thoughts went to play F-E-T-C-H.
Sign these constipated constellations, rotate, whirl and magnet…in visions of the beyond.
Slap outta it you ouija widget occult-pelt Romantic Ninja, ewe!
A protractor caged imagination before gang initiation and smacked it into a million indexes after-thought after-bang with the tw0-faced
wheel/tired combo bonus phlegming wild uncontrolled [is that reduncedant?]
harmonious ring of crayola 64 colors natural laws discovered and recovered.
To see the ground from the ground up one has to unlock cheat-codes for grappling hooks and lasers and good-looking underwear!
Only then may we witness a door as the substitute for two doors…

0 thoughts on “Poem on Taschen's Compendium of Alchemy and Mysticism; or Inmate Hangs Self with own Bluejeans—For whom the Bellbottoms Toll…

  1. behind door number two is the behind of a lovely lady-tiger deflowered by low cost g-force hamsters pelvic thrusting to the newest we-game “Dirk Diggler’s Amazing Hamster Ball” (two player edition). Unfortunately, I don’t do annual flowers in my garden of forget-me-knots. So I had to get far-gone like on conclusion on bourbon before I wrestled with this fargin’ Argus of an abstract milieu into this poets self-conscience and loose knit Ferlinghetti spaghetti hat worn backwards posing like a mental Webster’s dictionary of interconnection. Well re-hearsed trip to the graveyard graceland tour were every mistake gets a do-over and hell sees only the deserving makers of Mr. Coffee coffee makers slow dripping our recursive handwriting written on the wallflowers in permanent ink.
    “Please sir, may I have some more?” asked Kevin Bacon six steps into his twelve step program when his higher power was out to lunch and higher than a kite

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