im a bloody magnificient poet
dante of the day
bocaccio boogie woogie
inferno while i watch
day after tomorrow on youtube,
where a climatologist
finds a way to write a poem
while jerking off with one hand unfortunately occupied
in the noble task of sensualising one's visuals
at hand and at notion with one's grasp
that one would label
that sight that belongs to the weather-woman,
as she weather-womans her way
throu the inferno

dunno, bocaccio or dante
calderón or lope de lupe da lippy di snippy da snu
from snopy of snoogy if sniggy vegan vagoo vega
i do desire to francisco pizarro my way,
with desire but with decay
flirting with books that flock like gooey snowdrops of
lovely-dubly shit
i connotate the denotation with disagreement in my midst

the logical evolution of contemporary poetry,
corso et ashbury et ford madox model t
all lying on spread-about playboy mags in glorious goo,
as i wank too,

i enjoy enjoying that which i enjoy

homer iliad blows
but what,

peace in a goo.
be that not what hilary putnam quote-boys say?
tonight i decided to sleep but decided disagreed with me
so sleep stayed aloft n agoo waiting to glue.

shouldnt you be monitoring the weather or sumfin?
splat.
forecast models and wait a sec while
i quest for a quote from a quote
the iliad is now in mobile phone format
and a computer's written a book
but it's in russian, israeli n sumfin else can't remember
ouch, that van's screwed.
that tv guy's screwed,
man, get outta there...
subtlety n incoherence, sweet n shallow difference
of 2millicentipiedes.
the death of that reporter was funny.
and the death of that weather-guy also,
not to mention the cleaning guy
hey death's funny bergman
and haneke's doing funny games
for you retarded americans
who've confused subtitles with the one-way griffith treaty
you english french n english spanish n english czech my pics
but we dont
'for the dignity of the actors' says that ignorant fuck of an industry
and its fanboys who confuse forced narrativities
and impose them throu shorthand grassroots
grass-filled-shit claims to reason
when art films aglow in the glue
despite their spite
and consumeraidism.

do you have the results of peter's scan?
alexander poo
to their hearts with alarm were his hand these words
trojans n geeks, summer's buttcheeks.
we cannot hold hector back
we's is snowed in
n i dont know what to fear more
wedding crashers or crazy frog or regina spektor or ballmoral castle
or a helicopter copter. goodness of god.

the odyssey, verticle what the hell is going on.
bloody fuel lines.
-150 fahrenhoos
how many mooees have i seen on youtube?
will regina spektor sing to these my lyrics
will blibby brownsville dylan?
which is finally on youtube too
lest it be a tree among erm
skiing in europe with tina turner's stepmom
while i charge into the press of the danaans
lest between the minstrels n gutenberg
i dont know where to goo
i, the dante of the day
the dante of the mooee however
what a retard
needs to get home
thats good cuz,
as we all know,
dante was also a retard
the wolves are not here
in the sense that they're gone
ok, gutty
delicious me in a delicious use of language
into a delicious transposition into literature
upon a delicious freed sense of authority
and a deconstructive use of law
ha!
for i simbol my way into a diabol
to dualists n positivists dismay
ied n ant
oh oh
200 dollars
do libtards dare to touch youtube?
upon a moral sense of moral may?
ajax n king idomeneus
sitting on a tree
k, im having too much fun
move on you narrative git
n stop poeticking
for we are narratic fanatics

the symptoms were favourable.--instead of answering, harriet turned
away confused and gazed at something happened in new york
you blush, emma rossum, does any body else occur to you
at this moment under such a definition?

here i go, lamartine
you lame old fart
how dare you political lit
when we by definition be git
(s)
we're at the public library
a place i prefer when pubic

i passed rapidly before her,
bowing respectfully,
and my deferential air and
downcast eyes
seemed to ask forgiveness
for having disturbed her.

prose does, you fuck fuck, make poetry.

and we each went our separate ways, on the hills
or on the waters.
ive walked that far in the snow
it's not the same
indeed

prepare you old fucks,
for it's been rather often that i've had
not one but two but three
fluky fucks
blob dylan's plagiarism discovered,
cuore, come un fiore
si dischiude, in te l'amore
la canzon non è gioconda
l'odi tu, piccina bionda!
and fuck y'all

cuore, v'è il dolore
tra il profumo e la splendore
par che il pianto si nasconda
in quel fior piccina bionda?
and fuck you too, tantálida

balsa que en el estómago
naufraga,
lejano el sol,
imperio de la sed.

sir, you're making a mistook.
nongook sense-book
wait it out.
humanist fuck
calculate for a second
the only reason you survive in the end
is cuz everyone else goes.
silly silly tree in silly silly three
kids

maid for me
i was mistook
for a phallic entity
and we did it in the bathroom
in the ladies' toilet
in the paratoilet for shooters
where i shot it
and then in romantic choose mes
i gave her a blow-hole for xmas
and she blew whenst i hued
good fuck, jack
she broke my cock. jack,
breaking news
breaking cocks.

proceed, silvia

nah, im bored
im a bored dante
ill continue watching the pic
but metric classics demand
i stop, for technique's sake
at part 8
out of 12.
couldv been worse
better not possible.
wake up.