this is small change, frank

kollars & sleeves are separated by the neck & the arms of the ‘bawdy’…
the fabrik up held by flesh honed eyes that hear onli watt the glass throws
back at tit from klear unsilvered lines trikkeling away through the nales
of the leaves that hang lowest from the bough like lamp bass ted hours
strung out on a wire from ‘this’ surgerie rhume to thee ‘udder’ one till
even eugenspiele runs out of bars & wails & hungers & longs for that
time when the water & the fish ‘should’ have bin an ‘oeuff’ but wernt…

ashmoles running amok over pasteurs & fields plukking the eyes outta
daisies & roses grown wilde…
a kamel snoozing karelessly betwixt the legs of the bass akkwards sitting
sun riding the rales from here to auschwitz with a letter sealed & signed
by the uber meister hisself sitting winded on the throne as the rolling
thunder throws its last harpoon at the last lite burning in the last dome
left to die…

the tie & the chi, frank, the last kamel to pass thru the ‘i’ of the
‘kneadle’ before the tent burnt down, remember that, burne? onli ewe &
eye & the whole karnival before us – my father, in his howse, on the
kouch in the tb rhume, klapping his hand – gertrude, schnell, schnell,
du must das sehen – ur mother, at her kitchen table – hi rick, hi frank –
playing solitaire, a butt in the smoke tray, a half glass of johnnie walker
red & all her ‘panties’ on the showerbar, on top of towels in their
holsters, on the radiators in every rhume – remember that, frank –
i slept under ur bed that nite bekaus she didn’t want me staying over…

kut to kubler-ross:

“Our concern must be to live while we’re alive… to
release our inner selves from the spiritual death that
comes with living behind a facade designed to conform
to external definitions of who and what we are.”

— Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

an odd kinda synchronicity here bekaus i’ve bin mulling this very thing all
day long – onli in my partikular thought formation i was using the terms
‘ideal’ & ‘real’ rather than death & life as kubler-ross does…

spess-if-iklie eye was waxing playtoniklie on the aulde chicken & the egg
thing: which kame first – the reel or the eye deal – & with that aulde saw
that sez ‘u’ve gotta work with what ur given’, i – this far along the whey,
at least – have opted for the eye deal – bekaus – in essense, eye live from
the inside out & ‘will’ the ‘reel’ to rite its self to my ‘longing’ which is
in its true beingness the babe of my inner self…

then karl marx komes along & says that ‘a people’s consciousness is
determined by their situation’, which, taken on its own akkord, is a
truism – But – with a big be – is a ‘people’ knot made of many ‘i’s’ & each
of those eyes have their own seeing & when the individual eyes are
lumped together like this – in the word ‘people’ – willknot our individual
inner selves get lost in the translation from the inner to the outter

a little learning kan be a dangerous thing, i know, but did knot the
‘amalekites’ infiltrate the ‘people’ of ‘Israel’ at the time of the Exodus &
didn’t gawd hisself komand the eradikation of the ‘Amalek’ from the ‘faith’
of the earth…

who are the ‘amalekites, who is gawd, who is the ‘i’ that writes this…

larium halakha


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