Ghost ghost fresh face

Gnaw photography, hologram light

Insecurity pages + book disappearance disco

Electric talk and the newspaper ink kiss left cold folding leaf-like

Anaesthetic flower knife and the failure to inspire

The desperate reach to exist out of time,

the never were. No teeth, no fang

Soft decay, damage mathematics

Concrete flow + magnet tether romantics in their space fuck theatre

Janus saint dissolve dance step faithful

Clumsy bribe closeup machine

Anaesthetic flower knife and the failure to inspire.

Janus-face severed-limb

Verdant decompression tank porcelain cracked silver
Shouting face-wound prayer vulgarity wearing dust
Listless pocket-digging blue-ribbon embarrassment
Ecstatic-sad and worth deficient shabby
Salt-earth occupy the complacent terrible
Insult offering to beautiful jaw-hurts
She takes no real offense
Ballistic grey desert sky tire-sale detachment
Heaving child-like 70s litter-prevention sulk seizure
Taxidermy hurricane teeth
Construction-paper eyes
Bricklayer genuflect our obscene holy
Insult offering to beautiful jaw-hurts
She takes no real offense
Absent vacant-plume bank ceiling colourless arches
No speed daydream sex lecture manic-daft
Waiting-room magazine relevance snow lung
Mute CBC stereotype zoo
Deft quietly abide
Beautiful jaw-hurts smiles upon these burnt offerings

---------------------------------------------------

I am, through various occurences, left without a laptop for a spell
Back, it would seem, to the always-entertaining dance of procuring screen-time from tele-visual devices that I do not own. This should be a laugh riot when those 80 kids send me their essays to mark. . . ; )

Strangely pleased with everything, though, me and my smiling Sisyphus

dc

King Chooser has come for my number. . .

Endless aberrant devil-pitch grass slicks, gemstone dead cellphone
Line of glisten, line of sheen, huff back billowing forceful shards, terrible and vast
Future curse scene lick, power station dirt sex seeing so I don’t
Telegraph kick the awful vacant, their stripmall wit
Their hack lung text numeretical – their mediocrity in stars
Decked out, tail-gun love radiance breathe smoke keep down
Tether-heart broadcast heaven telling feel, feeling tell for desolated kin
Everything in fixes coke-bottle dream bubble wasteland
Lantern paint tavern drinking with nuns, they told me
You’re only as good as the worst thing you’ve thought

Welcome to 2011, the future one would suppose. Hovercars and motion pictures. . . talkies, as the youth are calling them.

I get introduced to the class I’m to TA today. Contemporary Sociological Theory. Indeed the prof seems like a good natured and proficient thinker, and the kids might get exposed to such ‘out there’ thinkers as Habermas. Haha, oh Adorno’s wayward son, how loved you are by the social sciences.

Bring on the slow and pleasing atrophy of our becoming-semester.