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TISSUE EXTENSIONS

You are bored. Nothing is connecting to your vital Qual. All is drear oppression. So you crumple a leaf of kitchen towel and place it on the table in front of you. An antique exercise for artists: draw the scrumpled paper, record the shades of light upon the multi-facets. You stare into the infolds like a chrome-plated megaphone of destiny, your mummy's cunt. All begins to wriggle. Boredom breaks like an egg, and you begin your trip.

 

A squid eating dough through the gain knob of hiss, the leaves pack into you like a truth bud.

Walls are built across the foss dyke, my thinking lines the ditch.

It's a map of the tectonic flaw in my mental make-up, where the cosmo-cosmetic pancake slips up and shows me the dirt on the rug.

Whoops, who slipped this irrational demon into the very dynamic of civilisation?

A fuzzy sleepy bug winking at me.

Say hello to the nice insides

Hey something spurted somewhere, I lost my conscience grip.

Things loom in comic plasmatic sensation, what fish breathes a separated gasp?

Quite a lump of matter to stick before my nose!

If you could read this carte you wouldn't put the horse dehors.

Wide rimmer flash in cunning lock, my ankle.

OTL 14-v-2010

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