Monday, August 1, 2011

don’t buff my pylon ~ SJ Fowler

for b.morris

our general is Gobbles, who gobbles art with a spade
who gobbles a nibless fountain pen, who lives on prize
living winnings, who lives on poorly tendered taxidermied
tits, who lives on no wit, who will dig for bones
who loves the saliva smell around an untrimmed bush
who will give a barrage of mutes, who tests low water quality
I know Ben Morris has dignity but the bilett homosexual
deepcut rape makes me frustrated at my mother-in-law or
something or another pigeon unearthed concerned
and encased in weed & bronze so dinner is finally ready

I have a Hackney Hanuman massage, a rubbing of the monkey
Elvis cancer of the bowels, an iron tire does nothing to halt the snow
towards a peace treaty, toward the siege of Copenhagen and Mikkel’s
bloodshed precum. O kindnesses! thoughts of you & grime music
pussyole apparently useless as a bus driver report
about being warm & smiling while peacefully asleep
while finding courage for the hardest yard, where the pink
& furry Shawnee Renee in the most charming of places
cannot fail like the acoustic guitar, a dead instrument
read the fingers, read the lettered tattoo Legavim Huy
Voram Soboda: to trashcops the dick, to thieves freedom.
Lublu Halvu Varenie Sahar: I like halva, marmalade, sugar.

from Minimum Security Prison Dentistry available from Anything Anymore Anywhere later this year

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