"lambs to the slaughter here"- patrick riedy

the whole reason to cross allen street is gone by letson williams

back then

back when there was still a reason to cross allen street.

back before berlin

back when she was red bone,

 from buffalo

when she was high yellow

when it was "if you're not a staylow, then you gotta go home.

 and that means you too jared leto"

back then

one night

one little night

i heard a man

one man

a book man

the man from the book store

he was stammering and stomping like he was coming straight outta compton

spitting and bloodletting

relentless

the first word came first

it came right on the first stomp

it exploded

he said participatory

yeah, he said participatory

and then he said it again

and again and again

until it rocked with an uneven, white boy rhythm that took it's cue from when the stomp came down

and that alone

he said it again and again

"participatory participatory participatory

"participatory" "participatory" "participatory"

"democracy" "democracy"  "democracy"

yeah, yeah, yeah

he said

"participatory" "participatory"

"democracy" "democracy"

"participatory" "participatory"

"democracy" "democracy"

then some of us started saying it

then more of us started saying it

then it was back and forth,

participatory

democracy

participatory

democracy

the man said

participatory

transmission by michael koh

>>> INCOMING TRANSMISSION:
>>> FILE : /OLLER.SPECH.A.TH.ELI.SPOTSPALAT.trm
>>> ACCEPT? Y/N: _Y
>>> DOWNLOADING...
>>> DOWNLOADING COMPLETE
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>>> START TRANSMISSION: _
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>>
>> Germs!
>> Seven years is
>> short,
>> a fraction of a
>> life -
>> barely a second in the life of
>> the past
>>
>> extinction.
>> eventful
>> barely comprehensible sometimes
>>
>> opportunity to witness but also to actually create a small part of it.
>>
>> ideals;
>> praises ideals,
>> answer
>> chance
>> purest form of
>> ideal,
>>
>> goals
>> .Great
>> experience
>> proclaiming goals
>> The goals
>> are fantastic: the creation of
>> blossoming
>> bloom
>>
>> dawn. Unfortunately
>> people
>> today
>> like a very worn-out groove on an old LP.
>>
>> a new,
>> hook
>> they promised
>> the goal
>> whose main element is
>> unnecessary future
>> supposed to be crowned by
>> the future
>> no one doubted
>> differences) between them
>> as it is the custom
>> to
>> shooting. And at that
>> the consequences
>> and this
>> incredible blossoming, a blooming
>> especially
>> of
>> God.
>>
>>>
>>> END OF TRANSMISSION
>>> REPEAT TRANSMISSION? Y/N: _

re: fragm by jeremy lessard

He of ashen keys warmed!
Is issues tongue, L? jkxwazmz
Or arguments, do on disappearance terror.,.


is heroism, appendage to segregate.
do chanced?
as on. He heavily my dreamy.

She ThinksHe~Is APuma~For Sex Hunger stgfjivi,.
He shagged But horny.

The precipice. Which an sainted.
That loophole. was he Pritchard, acquiesce!
And Adler happen.

Not so corners pursuers step .
Be contain 'sent, privacy,.
In widower he lies?

To as sherry broadest

federal but frightened;
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>SheCalms_DownWhenLicked

but she can’t hide it anymore.
Again she jerked@ and again the girls saw

polite.. over omphalos..

. sweeps the floor ribbon..
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
that resistance vies
and calls_@

On them all things for distinction that. that. tha.t

forceful gratuity! been adulterous hfskjg,.
on fallen locks of hair

That man . was he?

the one who wakes me

foreplay (the katherine kurtz way) by k. kurtz

patience
wearing
thin
clean
smelling
skin
goosebumps
on my
chest
catching your attention
like a girl in a café
folding
pepperoni pizza─ blue diamonds
on the horizon where we
made a game in every
language
& i laughed harder than i can remember
i love that you bring out the giggles
in me & i never want to
leave
not even when you take me too seriously─ you’re
hot under the collar & it gets me off
enough to look past the
exhausting
task of listening to you rant─ press up against me; caress my
hips with hungry hands & be rough with me
please─ i’d rather your tongue be
between my legs than on
welfare
or those ridiculous sounds that you make while i marvel & i don’t know where
this is going but i can take a guess that we
will both be somewhat sore
& hungry when it
ends

monday by vincent cervone

Monday
Form
(Structure)
Necessities
Animosity
Bashfulness
Intellect (?)
Ability to deceive


“Earth is a pigpen”
was a process now a certainty

quite cartoonish//sleeping slants
real murky, not the water
why talk why think why

take steps and become them

shadowsleep your thoughts

postponed.


coiled and waiting for the trigger

(proverbial)

wait.

crush finger against connection
define



it was made clear that the time would eventually come and change the composition. faded color became rooted. holes everywhere nothing there but holes. everywhere holes. spoke with air and lifted up across the face. spoke in tongues. tongue is less. without a tongue. not a tong. less tongue.
lift
                                                                                                                    ed.

i am by john cuttito

I am nothing I am everything
Times gone inconsequential again
A tragic reaction to my inaction
Proportionally contrary to my reality
And my own duality
Coming to a head again
Lost in moons flow
Fading in the rivers glow
Perpetual cycle of my unquiet youth
I repeat the beat path I tread again
Deep suede night
And I against the current
As usual, somewhat drifting
Bouncing along the shore a stone
I am worn smooth dragged
By tides pull This day
Has sought new reasons
To insist upon the
Distances I keep
Darkness calls and still I sleep.
This is just a fraction of my dissatisfaction
A ritual catastrophe of perpetual
Motion pulling me in different directions
With symmetrical concentration
Salvation is the eviction of conviction in
Convention as is
Resistance to this existence of pretension
I feel so small sometimes
A depiction of some higher authors’ imagination
Playing my part while never knowing the lines
I am a cameo appearance relative to
The time span of the universe
I am nothing, and everything
What song then should my soul sing
Words of the river
Words of night
Give me back the sight I lost
When I flew too near the sun
Ate from the tree
Opened a box I should not have
And found myself stripped of connection with divinity
Once we were all gods
By some strange trick we were lulled to sleep
And now we dream the lives of mortals
Who dream the lives of gods as they slumber
I am

give back the name by letson williams

give back the name

it's not just a word

it's something you earn

something vital and tried

that still lives                             at times

indicates          authenticity

which is why             you decide

                                           to pin it to your

often trite

                                         ironic glasses and

hipsta might

you think it's yours        'cause it was given you

but night after night

                                                            i won't forgive you

and if you push it out there long enough 

                                                 if you pretend to be that kind of tough

the one night'll come

                          and it may not be me

but some other fool mad

                          from the improbability

             of what had been un-corruptable

                          now corrupted

time was     

it was only slightly marred      by slurs and by slippers

            eggars’ idea of strings                 that sound like                            strippers

“beautiful”        but empty sweet

                                                                      mean and drugged             underneath

thrown off at last on a houston night

where your old man

well                   he just might

 he gave it to you and found the will to live

 but cowboybootsoncoffeetables don’t make it his to give

you you you ride the wave like you had anything

                                                                                    to do with the moon that brings it in

that shit was permanent                                      

                                                until you burned it

             like what you have came from that man

                          throwing off words    catch-as-catch-can

        but you you you you       y’   scrape and you stand

at every turn like this was yours to take

with your little rock hammer and your heart so fake

and piece by piece       you chip away

                                                 at the thought and at the name

at the love/at the lie

at the electro-shock fallin outta the sky

at west memphis darlin's and Odetta's truth

at rex's bell                         at rex's blues

you can't cut yourself a columbine

you can't black haired dutch boy

you can't fool anyone   but                             

 cops

and you can't fool me

no

you can't fool me

people kill people by patrick reidy