Slum Kite

The bells ring Tinnitus Picking at your pulsing cist Pet your human hemorrhoid Ride the bag It flaps through the wind Like a nation's flag wapping: "Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare. The lone and level sands stretch far away." Yes! Oh, yes, verily! Ride the bag I can give you omnipotence Like the lord of your imagination What would you do with your Bag of marbles? Would you run the stars Through your little fingers Like your lover's hair in bed once? Pick a galaxy and make it roll over The top of your hand as you turn It flows like mercury Over your knuckles And onto your palm Child's play without context I hope you see What you want Is here in-between the people Where you find your place to be Yours is not for the twisting of Vectoral planes in contorted rifts transported Sheering forces that are all Overkill Oh, no, you dance! You listen to song For what would you do if you had all forceful power But to look for a woman Who with her looks and charm Could command you to be put under scrutiny You give away in fair and good trade Like you would have done in any case If you were mere flesh? And so you must wonder what the difference is But it's all ok Take a rest The crowd composes out of a group of individuals All the same empty nonsense; People clap their hands and go home to eat their cornflakes; No-one to impress Yes, damn it! Impressive is the colossal wreck! See it drag on like mad old mold crawling with crustaceans Up from the utmost crags And down unto the depths of the Mariana's Foam entangled by the worst of us And what is to measure here with mortals in their ethics Standards All of it is pure nonsense From the womb all of what beauty could be grows the same Forks off like in the most fertile of purples fungus Mushroom plonk-plonk pop against your head Find a measure In a stick You tool! All good You can still grab him by the trousers Compose a piece of writing Share with them some fellow old geezers "It is fantastic here and it IS great!" (I keep repeating it to myself) That there is a crowd and that it Is not JUST myself I mean, I could review my own work a million times It still wouldn't be the same from all the different angles Translating it all from correlations one Transposed like me flying a bag In the wind

CuldeSac

What are words without understanding and what is understanding without sense?

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