Monday 26 January 2009

review of THE DARK KNIGHT


(i think troy lloyd wrote this with me,it has his flavor in spaces)

2.shay shay tassy wag tail

canned 'n planned via patafigural plates
so wholly twinked to blight or blind or blaff
dazzle!
my stolen stick from maestro (just a twig alas)

tighter thanna campy crystal lake
cha cha cha
fish is fish is fish
swimmingly swung schleppers
si si ja ja a grave of raising
polyverse brick'd upwall 'o division

phonicbloom whipped up babies back flashed ass
length justa notch in niche
spermy egg hatchin' toony gags unlatched from lock
uh-oh,a stain so soaked floats

piggy wiggle bridged to all fall down
flat flitter flag flimsy flarfy filament
huffy huffy tuff hussy
look! on television is a television
portraying itself as itself is portrayed
fuck the lucky mutts shh shh stuttering
on the rocks my dust mosses yr slip slid starry eyes

drano drown'd 'n drawn 'n durdy wurded
water ain't air until clouds cover grey
thorny gown sicking prick in gruff fuzz
passin' on passion & clashin' for fashion
inner aural heard back the geist
& poltered noise thumbnosing ruler to ruled

ending and finning
a fuckin' bunny keeps a'goin
drummin' up sum self-important putzy pantomime
of husstory flustered official
and preached w/ peachy pats ontha back
omniwomm!
angelic innercurse wrapping wombe
seesee (intween) bebe




2. soon w/ whatever as whenever

cannit pooh a parascumology
or dangle an angle of canonized i knows i knows
oggy ommoks of oh so certain

biggest brims to prop overstuffing
so posed too close as oily nose snakefang
yes, no no it must be hearsed in this re of corpse
swishling songboid toided lurned
breezily droop such skooled rulings

boss tossily lost glob of wanguage woody peckered
unmangled mattock undug
timmyred in tiny proof pudding
bungle to my stumbles

in relativity
sureness sweats less
eschew eschew
(bless)
one thru five izza hack 'o strophes
this ain't good it's so good
stuffy socks darned for no toes

mow of grass cutting question
bladed 'n spinnin' in simple utility
baking biscuits for the gravy babies

inna tone my highness snides, don't y'hear?
dustily binned in drumping my thumps
oh, this poem is nice

a verb w/o verbality
nouned to this stasis of states
gettin' laid away w/ hatefuck hole
i'm patterned off ya'llity

kulted veneer peeled
janglin' all the spray & oh wit fun
i was punny but pruning



2. so on with the trouncing and flailing or whatever:

ooh a parable i cant wait.
whatever. you certainly do try, i will say that.
go smoke a fat one and swallow.

smugg buttons on yr big brim
missed out a juxt cuz hes to busy on the pose
oh, just anything wont do. fanny-poo
swish yr hand and poo poo
drop a bird dead out the breeze with yr word disease

tossed boss stoned scoffs haught words on pedal tops.
what the fuck is a mattock?
and i have proof of aliens,one is sitting with me right here.
his name is timmy and his blood is red like yours.

it is all relative
and im sure you do.
echo the mellon army of eagle weakinged wauds
1 these lines are good
2 these lines are good
3 these lines is good
4 this here line is darn near real good
5 this line is stuffy

mowin the grass and i said to myself
self. is my s.u.v make me an ass?
cats makin biscuits on their babies' pasts

boy, i had a high toned week. how was yours?
oh me and rage when and dumped room in the dustbin.
oh,that;s nice.

fuckin
with verbal masturbation.
im not backed up, i just hate the state of mankind.
i dont need to get laid, i'm a utilitarian.
im patient with you.

the ol' society is a cultural veneer bit.
(to be sung) and a partridge and a pear tree.
i was trying to be funny.

strike three
matches together in heaven
sun flashes to feathers


flat feathers
flaming in haven
mooning our inclusiveness
bare-assed agiggle

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