Hounds mit their computerspielen, sprachen extasies down
toilet bowls on xmas eve, singing and Signing the dawn of something
bright and dark and unreal, over the hills of a new year, some effigial
spiritual product-to-be they hope, Hobbesian paws wishing and wishing upon a cerebral load, something to qualify human space and human time against outer space, and eternity.
The dogs with their blogs type for timelessness,
type of spirit, type in vain. Fireballs resemble the pomeranian wishes.
Daschund dreams. Destitution lines the streets of urban tumor like crust in the eyes of a sleeping giant, it forms puddles as we form puddles, too stoned to do different. All dogs want is to structure the body of bodies.
All vets want to do is prescribe anthrax and cootie shots like bombs bursting over Cambodia, stirring the soup of a waking nightmare. Dogs say "Hindus got it right". Angel Gabriel is seperated into 13,000 pieces, the hottest exotic dancer, with feet on the cold ledge of a Toronto skyline
where people look the most like their cogs, skipping and jumping into
curbside carbonara. Woof woof.
The streetlights string up cobwebs in the dark blanket of space unseen,
I hope one day to read real news in Billabong Magazine. The sports
attire / surf lifestyle corporate machine. Heat leaves in plumes the streets Angel stew.
He says I want us to drive ourselves into higher and higher places with the velocity of our nuclear explosions. The dogs want to publish their blogs. Turn and coccoon in the darkness, she said, of space without dreams. All puckered up with no room for brain. She wanted us to reflect ourselves into pathetic oblivion and knew we'd never do it. Wanting contingent cultural machines instead of annoying human spirits, understanding the boundless possibility in their total impotence. Virtual particles give me heart palpitations.
Scream into my asshole, scream into my asshole
Scream into my mouth,
my pores, my chores, the bladder
scream and scream and scream
into my tear ducts and my sex organ
Its infernal little eyeball,
which pokes and leaks and does a stand-up routine
Hannah Bannanah ( represented by Www.google.com & Glarbo-9 aliens society)Nottingham, UK
currently 3,958.8 miles Underground (in fossil jurisdiction). In case i die down here: my password for everything is 4nMB35BF3X8rgVv . . . . keep me alive
I have a review of this here: https://hannahbannanah.substack.com/p/83-by-bucket-of-ohms-on-sum-records?s=w Hannah Bannanah ( represented by Www.google.com & Glarbo-9 aliens society)
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