das neue testament
A list of liquid Michael Bradley's suspended from the sky and staggering in states of concertina, waving enthuiastically at the pythons of this word, the next word, and in time, the word after that.

Indeed they had fulfilled themselves with thoughts of javelin; and some cosmic shot-put: the kind that bowls over ladies in the street. But now on this very hill, it would be just too much to cast his face into the sun and feel atomic currents penetrate his skin with pins and pins and the static from a blind mans television set. There must be a point. After all, everything must have a point; how else would we put our own eyes out? An axis upon which to rotate ones torso around the universe; in and out follicles of trashy socialism, touching on pockets with fingers waving from flyby freight trains. Swaying in time to some great symphony, resonating through tetra. And in your head.

If it wasn't for bad luck Fran(c)k would have no luck at all. No stars to puck from the skies, even to line his own
nest. Incest is indeed the best, but what of little girls who never loose breath; hanging over the round like early morning haze: winding through headstones, weaving a chain mail coating in from the steely dawn air, in which to drape dearest father: Hero of all her dreams and champion of neon fears.

And what becomes of loose gaze?
Slack sight, a worryinginging twitch in your temple and a fire in the bellies of wolves. Finally finding a table top on which to alphabetise your wrists: left and right. Running appropriately from left to right as if conforming to some unspoken western standard.

Sick of luncheon I hang my head. What fruit is borne from sinewy arms with big red shining apples clenched in hands. Safe there, protected from vulgarity and from trebuchets firing bright green patriots toward the horizon; Eventful, yet with broken legs. I'll never be as bold as you to stubb butts on me and dance death rattle congas in the grocery line. I'll never get right like you; to make sense to me, and envy the constellations in next doors yard. I'll never be as cold as you to spend ice cube money on convenience goods. Hey.