Severed B N O W 6 M X K Y n+1 B+1 Q Chapter 43 Z-G fin

ZXCXCCV

Underneathe a large electrostatic versatec print of
Illya Prigogine, me and my grandpa are doing
cocaine and watching HEE HAW on television
where Bob Dylan dressed up like Fidel Castro is
calling America a racist, sexist, homophobic
nightmare of evil hicks; then the screen changes to
a cornfield full of buxom blondes in tight fitting
Nazi uniforms saluting Nazi style and then they all
say in unison, "Planet Earth, population 23 million,
SALOOOOT!" Grampa says, "Switchitt." With
lightning fast agility my prehensile tail punches the
"up channel" button with monodigital singularity of
purpose and soon we are confronted with an
ominous stadium scene whereby the seated crowd,
an homogenous audience of life-like Norman
Rockwell androids, each one resplendent in pipe and
fishing cap, is confronted with a black astroturf
football field with neon blue lines. Huge black-lights
blast down on the fluorescent pink rockwell-droids
as well as the nubile valkyrie football teams in
form-fitting mirror-scaled one-piece swimsuits and
winged chrome football helmets... The "ball" is a
furry, trained amoeba-like animal, ostensibly some
form of invertebrate mammal, or
pseudomammalian, that tucks tightly into a ball
when thrown, and reaches for you and actually
grabs onto you when receiving...
"Allriiight," Grandpa snorts, bouncing up and down
on his huge ceramic throne, slapping one of the
nymph-bots that reside on either side of him, a
part of the throne:
legless snake bodies with feminine human
torso gracefully these throne attendants
preen and care for all grandpas needs licking
in and out of the throne through moist
portals of muscular porcelain he is naked
bald with a long white goatee and they are
kissing and massaging him like genies who
obey every wish granpa enjoys television
and i enjoy grandpa

EVEN THOUGH WE CAN NEVER EMBRACE
UNLESS WE'RE UNDERWATER.
you see I am a water breather and live in the
ocean or preferably in a high rise aquarium
that rises out of the ocean of the coast of
crete;;;;//
a mirrored polymerwalled cathedral of divergent
engineering squirting exquisite bolts of
cylindrical nutrient rich water out the mouths
of plexiglass gargoyles depicting mythic
oceanic deities and creatures.
I Am a MerCentaur...
with a braided mohawk-mane of
bioluminescent kelp implants and an animalloy
skate for a chestplate, from which i derive my
name Raji Selachii.

i wear a sword of polished red coral and exchange poetry with the
dolphins in sonardiatribal arias...
although unwieldy on land i do sometimes come ashore
to bring the
netsezuki twins some fresh repast or
delicacy from my deep sea abode high above
the waves. The netsuzuki twins a pair
of twins, 400 yrs old, two Taoist
technoshamanesses who turned twenty
somewhere in the mid 1800's. Although very
old they appear youthful, bursting with life's
regal passions. They're my connection on the
mainland from which i gain the illicit
substances that guarantee my income in the
big blue... They love John Lee Hooker and
Memphis Minnie and drink scotch constantly
while racing their helicopters over the
outback of driest Australia.
AND THEY ARE CRAZY
THEY ARE NOT CRAZY
THEY ARE LUCID BUXOM WITCHES THAT
GROAN WITH DELIGHT THEY ARE NOT CRAZY
THEY ARE NOBLE INTELLIGENT PRAGMATIC
BUSINESS WITCHES THEY ARE NOT CRAZY
THEY ARE WICKED INDESTRUCTIBLE FEMALE
GENIUSES CLOTHED IN IMMACULATE
FESTERING WEALTH THEY ARE NOT CRAZY
THEY ARE LUSTFUL MONOLITHS OF SAINTLY
NARCISSISTIC TECHNOLOGIES AND
BEATITUDINOUS WISDOM THEIR VIRILE
VOICES ULULATE THROUGH WALLS OF SOLID
STEEL THEIR ANCIENT EYES SEETHE WITH
MAJESTIC VISIONS OF THE EXQUISITELY
GROTESQUE THEIR HANDS GRASPING FOR
TOOLS BUTTOCKS CASH THEIR NIPPLES
VIBRATING WITH A DESTRUCTIVE JOY THEIR
LIPS FULL WHITE KISSING THE NEW WIND IN
GASPS OF SENSATIONAL VULGAR LATIN AND
SCREAMS OF FANTASTIC BLASPHEMY THEIR
STOMACHS SMOOTH ROUND PREGNANT
WITH A BLISTERING INSANITY THEIR FEET
PERFECT SMALL POLISHED TO RESEMBLE
LIVING ALABASTER THEIR TONGUES LONG
DEXTEROUS EXTRAVAGANT THEY ARE NOT
CRAZY?

endpoints of the merging milieu
and time was destroyed
...
Smaragdine mandrills gather round the
tomb of Francois Rabelais playing ivory
and abalone' mandolins ostensibly smoking
Pantagruelion and performing an assiduous
version of Willy Ward's "Iggy Joe." Their
only audience member is a thirteen year
old naked japanese girl seated side saddle
on an albino walrus. In the chill wind her
nipples are erect, pierced, and two
shrunken heads dangle lickerishly from
golden ovals strung through their ears,
Mitterand and Malthus.

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III
To all enlightened
Bambochades who, "live",
more or less, basking, as
it were, in the Menippean
silliness of this final
age, this farrago of id-
borne cryptological image.

REVEAL YOUR
INNER MONSTER!
LET LOOSE YOUR
EXTRA ARMS
AND HEADS,
RELEASE THE
GRYLLI OF THE
URBAN FREAK
VAULTS!!...

jewelfishandjewelweed

layscatteredinthechamber
oftheglasstrilobyte

thechamberisacircularroomwhosesinglecontinuou
swalliscomposedoftwelveeightyfoottallglasstri
lobytes

inthecenterlaythegreatblacktrilobytefountaino
ozingpinkandrediridescentslimefromitslouvredu
nderbellyamediumforitslivingbrothersandsister
swhoskitteraboutinthepinkonthepolishedmetalfl
oor
hispololly the dropsy beaked winterloom
bonnet
bonnet
story
storycard
tete-a-yeti:
hibernating in the chimney with a hunk of white noise named saned
clause its hooves are of green ice its eyes are orange mussels with a
screechy beard of chineses saviors slit eyed heretics who ceaselessly
pull chains of embryonic dragons from their rotting cinnabar
entrails....

number 472 might be seen in black...

All the perfumes of Arabia.. Do you understand, Doctor?
{Completely destroy him} Poison his mind against those who
love him... There was something strange and unnatural about
the woman. She laughed harshly, pointing at the flexible liquid
mirror. Several agents reaching for her vagina simultaneously,
depicted like a painting... She ripped the cable from her neck
base. On either side of her lay sopping wet cornfields from
which jutted ruint red brick chimneys... He looked on, holding
the bloody fish, planted that way in the middle of the road, his
other hand cupped over his left ear. He realized he was
speaking in a voice deep and angry. He realized the bloody fish
was really a thick black shiny thorn made into a knife.... She
leaped through the amorphous blue mirror gel splitting her
refracted being into infinite parallel reality frames... The film
jerked, bubbled.... "What did you want, then?" he added
craftily. It was a case of automatic walking, if there is such a
thing. Like automatic writing. To illustrate we'll use: Glowing
Skeleton Stop Fire Streaming Out the Eyes Stop Onto the heavy
metal book Stop METHODOLOGY stop his fleshless flaming bone
igniting space....





final story:
DO NOT PICK UP SOGGY BUSINESS CARDS OR
BE SUBJECT TO RANDOM NERVE AGENTS

I once knew a man who could only vocalize a single word,
"Capital." It was said he had an old business card with the
same word printed on it. He had found it in the street and
was never right again. I found a photograph of him in an old
pile of shoes....
To be exact it was found inside a glass slipper which Miss
Marple had just laid down before turning to speak with the
proprietor, a certain Mr. Joseph Salmon, of Langerhans
Street.

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