whereupon the loquacious vestibule & a deciduous scorncloud quaffneck stout athwart the faultlines of a plover’s merriwheel pantheon: the dramaturgy straps in twain, yet once more talk of selzer & effacement // the instance was without precise measure but it was widely conceived of not to be // one’s pewter clockscale & rustica nervosa got putrefactorially imbricated with their facilities, & in general those ruptures were ordained of the primary issuer (which having been so, immediately ceased) but without which the assets would not visibly been assigned // the indirect verbage was not, so to speak, affectless, & neither was it prescribed; however, your tenebrosity while fallucidating certain traits of the heraldic crier pointed up some skiffled flaws of which nebuchadnezzar disflouted or beseemed // this occasionally provoked but seldom misdetermined or quadreventuated a distimbrous administrator // inchoassummately we consumed only the particular fruits to which our prescription had occasioned, but this (at times) was not precisely to the letter // do you recollimber adroitly the epistemorpheme of that fitful juncture? merriweather, smother & disobstructivation during post-production & the lace of verisimiltude ravelling out & out in an oxygenated slipstream, a stealthy smokecloud of seconds burning, flummoxingly, to be removed in minor places // yet once more, paean
acknowledged of smooth lydian airs,the applause abrupt beyond bas-relief & qwertechnological advances of such an epoch not perlustrative in the tense of more traditional logarithms // the event as I think I mentioned earlier was its effacement, & the renewed distance that issued up, as though in hindsight, before the agent was sentenced // not to say the object was dimmed amidst the gloamish mobfiscation, rather its integrity dispersed amidst the unctuous lucidity of our phases // by that time, at least, I’d a grout to my purse, if not against my name (neither alms nor legality to my name, alas, but confidence in its inviolability nonetheless) (well, I’ve not yet cast the whole scope of squalor aside, but it does disintroviscerate one, certainly) & suncorp reflexed with a chilled dish of a thriftwhore binbargain, rather sardus swift swansinging along the ivytrod whaleculler & absalom demenstruficated // but from that point the mode got a bit degeneric, rather consecuted by a strain of polar flux // all the eternal springs of my infernal experience engendered their own sure & certain & specified brand of relentless disinsensibility but that aside, I’d like to repose with the joint of my aperture, viz., the selzer // a queer abstinence of context & consonance hath driven me divagately athrust in meter thirstily from the effervascillating pongle of my carbonnet clime: the plump corpus swigging out of the portadux, quelching toesful of loam, & making
a poor art of overlordery besides, was inadvertently implicated in the tale of a birthmark yet untorn // with respect to the caste system, in your divulgate account of the pataplause appearing to antedeterminate something fatal (qua empiricism? qua dislocution haranguing counterlogic? qua resounding millimeters of subaqueous hegemony?) a certain phase in the contrapuntal plotpoint alluded (unblemishingly innospent in its affexecution) to the exergue inscribed upon the margins of my ventricle: viz, the ardent trombone measures of bowel-destroying lambency are not uninherently postheretical, but on the other hand there remain five digits, most of which are integral (but the contingent basis of that might accord more suitably with heteronormative additional factors belonging to zeros) // seize the furnace! // chillblains from the potash & the vox of an obtuse angle opining of a radical dramatic sequence of transgressive desires! // weep no more, skelton crookscythe, helter & heathens unwashed ashore, weep no more // the clouds no longer read your face with scorn // parallax immeasurable in the disturgid patamorphosis of this sequence! // for the degree of fermentation is what makes this dream
so sweet
so sweet
