Thursday, December 1, 2011

3 texts || John Pursch


Kicked news cold turkey October three years ago outa the blue off a long run of steady abuse image feed nonsense pounded with hatred of everyday rubble crap. Never glanced back keep away from me. Wait the other day I caught a pinch electronic almost puked like horse or dog porn some crude captioning device wanna push their exposed entrails on you fools bastards like to disintegrate views present non-random garbage beloved celebrity manure breath paparazzi for president preside over a human cesspool stand in fields of static reek statistical budget crisis seeping into your hands keep the blood off my shoes spatter yerself, drinker. What ya could use a wavelength for, ya choose to septic pile us with bilge straight outa yer ass. How wonderful. Click click horror click honor click ad ad ad click ad click death click dead humor how to slowly wreck world click tick tick age please would ya click open mouth chemical hostage juicy flesh input field feeler bite tear click shoot smile grimace ball-peen teeth shatter click idol orator naked iconic wrenching socket impact speed projectile box people wander job sleep eat job click wiping face slurp meat meet surf click drown image replace imagination shot injected views down mammary lines cluck chicken out spend wish elect option illusion dotted intellect

Don't Touch

You have protection over two million hired thugs with most thoroughly modern weaponry ever invented assembly line nonsense spanking new just like you yer babies comin' down pike city canal flesh retreats to dissolving powder somewhat pink, I might add. You go over the river without a drop of fish perspiration; how's that? You force-feed on mammal tried and true internal organs, paid for well no, nothing's ever really bought here but we well er we um simulate well, yes, everything is technically just a simulacrum but who needs to point to... Obviously you're a bit short did you I see you touched it well that yes will cause it to dissolve yes instantaneous leaves a whirling taste what mouth? Heading Midway many planes no one's fault here just embrace deadly is ok release and cycle point to point dominoes some damned board game iceberg penance takes a third appendage as the boatman said not to touch. I hear a cat. Some time ago birds were ground up and trapped in cans so consume will ya just endorse the latest pixel slide onto concrete rubber truncheon car to Mozart and require a heavyweight paper monger smoothing out a cortex. Have you seen a full stop in the darkness of early morning's gut? Countdown never ending emergence trades the atmospheric quest for present beauty aisles of house production intractable island museum piece

Sky Mumbles

Rotating totem news waits for post-dawn risers to eat them who consumes anyway it's reversible at best like every directional prelate could taste the ankles in heat no doubt off the push feed you get it how come you never rose higher company gibberish hesitant junior port flipper? Mark your own words, command decision breath comes a mile a minute at neck speed, hoping for spellbound endgame tunics and tonic water rolling force-five hemline canes of bamboo deodorant phlegm. Phased turpentine eases, floe by flow, over the human cataract, channels changing from discrete to abstract jabber, pinning roasted lint on perennial browsers. The sky mumbles quiz show remnants, prying open wooden enclaves with wizened hands, inviting feline tender bearers to softly interject and casual inspect tiled dahlias with mortal apricot lane perusal jets. Open-eyed greenery camps scratch clean biscuit coffee clan movies, arching through future cones compacted to frogs.

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