syncopate?Si. Inventorate? No

it seems
as an alkie,that is
i, or may i assert we?
cannot independently
presented with any format of tabla rasa
create in-and-of-itself.
but
moreso
nevertheless
when granted a drole drudgery to bee-bop and syncopate about
ach! tis then we doth shine...
prollem seems to be
being expertise at overdoing dullard's folly(ala the peterkin principia)
seems to assure that
no
thing
of
value-laden
worth
from
bedlam(past)
wilt henceforward
flowerflow

in feral fretters fear held twas I

In feral Fretters Fear Held twas I
the old stuff was from untrustworthy cohorts
drinking the sauce of poisonings and thinking it was 'deluxury' morosely being our own lynchpin of unhealing a decade of decay folowed and blacked the clouds of our mindscape, cavern assuredly. we drank in darkness, 'most like early gays but straight as we was, the healing was no feeding. we were booted out of sordid assorted sundry sundae bars,relentlsly complainering and grumbling "Just for yelling out: Let's all get drunk and dance dirty?" poelple thought of me as a tautology: utter bum boar.
on the avenue of abuse, where the parochial beaters dressed in perpetual mourning, the sole release was matriculation. plus there were always the Evangeline and stories of El Cid v. the moors. And still my soul marched ploddingly, well unfed. Someone in awe told me: You're missing on first contact, tis with soul to self recirculates. someone told me my art truly sucked and so I beliefed him, right as he might have dustbin. I couldn't see how the rest of them couldn't understand, when I went back to 'carry the word', how much sobriety rocked over drunken notoriety, but they didn't amidst the din of the crashing glasses, the broken faux paws, and the blim blim blim of the daquiri blinder.Plus they really 'dug' the linedancing and the tragic sense of existence somehow truly grooved their corpus delectum

remimbering and unforgettering, the intutitive path to solverizing stuff that hte mindbrain ain't brawnynuffore

a sweet messager and the dustdevils of vacuum land done eatered your poemsong
to me
and the winders did unwindowfy
and we said
ah,that's what the yogurt instructor meant in her sublime evensong
y'know?

FERAFULNESSNEASAWAYOFDEATH

THIS BEING FEARFUL IS JUST SUCH UNDOUBLEGOODNESS

when I was a drunkard, I were not gooo to myself,'eh,ducks?

Spirit healed sores
that the spiders didn't scar
I boosted from stores
that insiders deemed subpar
I looked within
feeling airy, yea, thin
sublime soulcave
sublimecavernsoul

The tenderized grasses
swaying in the pond
Remind me of the glasses
of which I were nigh fond
They corroded my soul
and corralled my sway
caved in soul
carved upon soul

Abandoned car, imploded shards
resembling baby so hurt, in zebra leotards
how could someone kind on my infant self
so unwind
cavernesque soulyard
loch ness fettered soulyardOne fine night, awakened wails
Death had found, the boozer's bales
No more weed
nor wine nor whimpers
Found the white ash glee
Found the white ashtree

spurious superbly bossed boobat

superboss twilling
you are so god
supreme cieling
you are utterly so mod

i know your're healing
and so surrealing
gives me such thrills
and all the while
they drink turnstile
and you says nils

my job, i have made it into a moloch morass tar-traipser

and now i am realizing at last how to get unleashed(have you read that unleashed: poems by 'writer's dogs"? it's awesome, in aprts espeically the longest one about the two dogs that get found in an abandoned house)
from my fears:
stop
lowing my werke to be my god(he-devil of a falsied god)
no more palsy in my steppes now
trafalgar square was cool last wodin's nacht