ull new transflations — Rosetta Stone hypothoses

TV Screened

OH my
TV Screen
yep yep
crystal sheen

he teach the preach
but we reach for peach

He points direction, but we
drink the bleach


bottles in row

bottles in row, baby
bottles in row
each one the like of the last

gamma blast

but we knew that, baby
but we knew that (haha)
each one the like of the last

devil caste

Thorn of the kate, mama
prick of the steve
we worn the world of our SLAMBROKEDOFF sleeve

Pie Pap

She pull the pork mama
She pull the son
She got the rips on the run

She ripe the type, but that
she spawns the grime
Alll the tvs that tap into our waiting minds

Crapshoot Groop Scoots

She run the groop scoots,
We plant the skew.
She win the crapshoots
and we…map-map-map

She hop the TOP DROP,
We stretch the seams–
fabrics that mop all
our crap…clap-clap-clap

We milk the (clap clap)
We milk the (clap)
We drink our own
dirty tappity tappity tap

Past is Fast

“Forget about it,” said Janine.

And he did. Fifteen years later.

The brood he’d stewed in the meantime was one hefty tomato.

“Fancy meeting you here.” It was Janine.

Ronald covered his ears, sat his coffee down, and ran out of the 7-11.

Throwing the car in drive, he propped his elbow on the passenger seat and cranked his head around. He ran into a car at the gas tank in front of him.

His stomach was a pit of empty space through which he could feel his soul sinking indefinitely. His mind wracked its various alternatives and an avenue through which to shift to any of them. No. And then the shock wore off.

“Oh my goodness.” His mouth was still open. He shook to and turned his collar up, looked for sunglasses. Nope. He stepped out to see. No one was in the other. The damage was slightly more than minimal and more then he’d expected, his mind still clinging to the last hope of no harm done.

There was sharp cursing and then, “Ronald!”

It was Janine.

How could he forget?

Top Tipper

Forget the hops

We go the tops

Green light the go

Pull out the stops

And when you got

Three times the slops

You rigor stiff

And flip the flop

Marking Black These Xs in the White Room

We mark all these black Xs in the white room

Sweet yesternothings something semi-gray

Then crank this cranks horizon turn and push broom

And sweep the night like shatters into day


Stoooooopids We (You and I and Most Dear Five)!

Spin who span the answer

Yes, we all be can, sirs

Oh me wow me pantser

Yes, we all be can, sirs

Pander there fee ere her?

Five whole dollar can, sir

Gripe the gripper glander

Can we all in can, sir

Said can we all be can, sir

A Spring of Stank Autumn

Fallen got up and got cuppity cup. Who’s thirst was it anyway? You take the two dollars, divide it by anonymous, and no one gets parched anymore. Race ever won. Though. Haha. It is funny sometimes. You lay it flat it’s the ocean; the river in motion. How many times–





–do we rise from the bank bottom. Stank autumn. A burning leaves refocused, forged in the valley of the let’s thrice again–many times the charm–hobbling with arm open and heads on backward. Hark we are here and we dumb from the water. We birthed of the otter. We swim to the rim, but then what’s alma mater?




Eve has got dibs.

Fumble the wherewithal; cuddle the squid.


I would do it for forty dollars. Show me the gunny. Almost the win, but we did  it for honey.


Digging for gold and direction is buried.


Boots Mama Boogie

Who gotcha boots. Botta boots. boots.

Scoots in the suits. Inna suits. suits.

Who’s gotsa swiiing inna me me me

Downtown to sing mama blue decree

Boots in the roots. River roots. roots.

Boots come a boots inna boot-boot-boots.


Where mama stare? Over there. there.

Clean underwear. Cause ya care. care.

I got the tiiime gumma golden grime.

Wisky for wine with those pantsomine.

Mama beware. Cause we care. care.

Ifin fall there you so-close-almost there.




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