Sexuality marooned jellybean pilfered spigot refugees vomit hazelnut in some static plain cloud cupboard.
A stifled hexed harvest, suffer the stagnant taffy contraception,
Oxidized gut-string lyre feeble mast crippled rod.
Shall you be parallel on the naked stem on the shrunken pagan altar?
Penguin whale jackal follicle carriage orgies
I have the cavernous trunk of thirst,
Permanently altered, famines, droughts.
Loosen your sticky grasp upon an evening so slutty bean Venus squaw chubby stone figurines
languid horny speed gutter bunnies.
let down cord straps drop fiddles kneel whip cable ties.
Snickering geriatric hags cupcake outskirts of one
Platypus settlement
• Soft like kisses
• Smooth like butter
• Such traits landed me in the gutter
• I stare at the lifeless body
•"He's dead," I mutter
• I pick him up and drove for miles
• 'Till I found a deep enough gutter
There’s a constant hammering
Alongside my bedroom window
Repercussions of a corrupt gutter
The maddening drain
Obstinately and persistently has refused
All rehabilitation efforts
There are no
drip drip drips
Only
Pound Pound Pounds
As water clashes with wood and metal
The clangor must be amplified
By a loudspeaker
To make such minute water drops
Sound like a crazed gongsman
Locked in a metallic chamber with a battle mace
With no distinct pattern
The piercing pattering
Thwack Thwack Thwacks
Proclaiming,
“You will find no peace here!”
And yet
Its constant monotone irritation
Somehow
Lulls me to sleep
Rain whispering
in the gutter -
gossip passed along
its length all night
until finally being
silenced
by the downpipe.
Has old Mark Rutter, been spun to the gutter?
Have reason begun now to be seen? Is he sad
for
The bad? Are the Dutch now glad?
Is the national scene; more serene? Will
They send him some clogs? Or let loose
The dogs? I guess it renains to be seen?
Maybe he'll turn to the dykes? Dredge the
Sludge quite contrite? Or rise like green
Scum to obsene heights? On the u n held
Mandate of dreams? It all seems so stupid
I despair of these cupids.? Who are demons
In disguise or so it seems, to have been ?
Now, I'm dealing with mosquitoes!
All about standing on my toes,
Refusing to accept the throes;
Back to Mosquitoes bad death throws...
Harsh hand claps to just have one smashed,
For if I did not would be lashed
Upon entries into net cashed
Their bloodstains on it shall be washed...
In water troughs would meet their eggs
And - guess the next - use my legs...
I never could be a lover
Of studies of their Larva:
A part of Africa's rude woes
Each gaped gutter that flows!
Not a sad chapter she might close
Or the day she does The End close.
They were swilling blood from the road
into the gutter,
policemen with buckets
of cold water.
And all I could think of was you
and how you had left me.
It was not your blood but someone else's
that the curious had crowded to see.
You were walking, talking, laughing
elsewhere in this city
and I know I might see you someday,
which would be a pity.
I found myself wishing and hoping
this blood had been part of you.
Your going would shock me, of course,
but such shock would soon pass through.
They were swilling blood from the road
into the gutter
and had it been your blood and you dead
such thoughts would not matter.
(25 April 2023)
(written 1970s, then lost, then recalled and reconstructed)
Don't anyone on this flatter
Nor leave the matter to Martha.
To her it might mean 'No matter'
While it's one that could things batter.
Long-built relationships scatter,
When challenged lips simply mutter
Once clean lives in foulest gutter,
Quiet room source of loud clatter.
Each time, I awake this matter,
Fears of waiting ruin get fatter:
I glimpse feet and hear their patter.
As they inch closer, blood-spatter
lizzard 'pon gutter
phoebe builds mud nest on fan....
rain droplets glitter
He does not words utter
Nor heard syllables mutter
But a heartbeat is aflutter
With his sighting a shutter
Of a clinic answering “What’s the Matter”.
That would life save but funds scatter
His honest last savings shatter…
On his head a hammer’s clatter
Of a fever seeking to him batter;
A just consumed bread and butter
Vomited in excited gutter.
Gads. Our gutter in front was overflowing again.
We have really been getting a lot of rain lately.
Have been saving flower seed and other odds
and ends for you. Think my grass will need
one last cutting for the year. Watched our
virtual church service on line. Jill is
whipping up some great soup.
seemed to be so hard
putting in a gutter guard
while weathered and scared.
The best waakye in the community is sold by the gutter,
Gutter choked with rubbish and litter,
Litter that stops the flow of water,
Water, contaminated as it is, the breeding grounds for mosquitoes,
Mosquitoes that cause malaria,
They hover around the food that we love,
And so we eat,
Eat to our hearts’ content,
And we enjoy every single bit of it,
And we fall sick; we get treated for cholera or diarrhoea,
And we still run back to the gutter-side,
We run back for more, more of our destruction,
Because that is the home of our favorite food, the gutter-side.
the gutter thief next to a bottle of my potent words ~ drunk on them
12/27/2019
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