Onti-oedipus. cat. cata catacomb combing combing the earth &air a  fine fiddle care  ~  there ` music taking the easy out?  not music itself whatever thatmight be but it's projeuniteurs? n'est c'est pas? writing is always hard. er? is it ? are you not amusican.  Once if i remember I was a fine musican.

a   pyhrosis of bleeding.


.... that's ...


   that's how the machine works  .. it stops.. breaking down and it's not so fun when yr in it a ferris-wheel carriage coming to a halt
  a head-ache smacking you in the gob
    sniffing nose bleating heart
 a weird weather pulling stiff on its dogs

   mooring? no not mooring moiled but the unpleasant kind a disjunctive disjointed_
ness and the 'hurt of tears' paying out their hot scalding

 desire a broken puff on the dry tongue
  a weird page in the southern wind 
  not a tripping fancy page

   and the guilt that musicans make you feel provoking you with their never ceasing  promisicuity a nice game to play banging on  strings, keys, horns, blowers, blinkers, tom-toms day and night bin
  of it never ending
   metamorphosed into the car monster its nasty bright lights beaming on down

  for the wander-schizo it's harder peregrinating            round and round

     so the question becomes how to find new lines/&times to cut




"People don’t like love, they like that flittery flirty feeling. They don’t love love - love is sacrificial, love is ferocious, it’s not emotive. Our culture doesn’t love love, it loves the idea of love. It wants the emotion without paying anything for it."
-(via 5000letters)(