Showing posts with label Jim Meirose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jim Meirose. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 10, 2022

Jim Meirose - Daytime Star? Daytime Star

A rage abreacted muscular, ok, big ire-banded quack banger ol' bins side thug utility trailer, walked worn grass tailers, place we circus tent would go up. 

Wide smile ay sea face, as walked past bp ores going up. 

Ph.

Ello!

Nodded, smiled, greeted each passing stag; clear voice, aid, open face, read edge—huge yellow tent. Ying spread ground, spoke installed white short side.

Rage Friendly swung quack banger up. Stake wit crack. Quack banger swung.   

Was 'n friend?

Friend. 

Gosh Ollie.

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Jim Meirose - Numb Pierre: First Interview

Numb Pierre:  They said he would have survived had he not been clipped in the head. 

Translation: It was our half-brother Pierre who came up with breeding the birds. He is a deep man. What he thinks mostly ends up coming about.

Big Julio: Like the—let me see what’s it—the Magnusson device.

Numb Pierre: Pop.

Translation: Right. That’s it. 

Big Julio: What sort of device is the Magnusson device and why is it important?

Wednesday, August 18, 2021

Jim Meirose - Pssst, Pssst, Pssst; Hashish?

Down’da Amsterdentiamian furro’fare stroll ‘d sum equals six hundred. So, hashish?

Hashish?

Hashish?

Sighhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Crisis; Never Who’d Ever, But, I Okay, Before but it’s, Oh, It’s I, Why’s It How? 

Basement to thing, Never hey what, But Back Now Dangerous Now, Mr. Manuel Los, so here; your reach. This worsens but, How? B’ ‘fter all’s why we came to Amsterdationam in the frenchst place, ‘fterdial.

Something no true but, Why I That’s Why They I You’re No, Hey, Tell Look Right All I Some, Okay. 

Itch there, true. Be not? Itch, wrong, they? Can’t know. Wrong, not you. Genius there now. Right, will, then. Okay.

Here Your That’s Why?

I And Oh, Three? 

Three Okay This There’s And And No, You’re Those What Here’s Within Do No, I Clenching Oh? 

Okay. 

Buh why I clenching? ‘xplain first, You Then, This You I’m I Why? 

You, Totally You, No. 

Stop, And, Okay, It Will I Yes, When I And Why. Hold! 

See, Back Okay? 

Glare, I Nod. 

Thank Manuel there first, Their That’s Wait, Hold! 

Listen; Plus, And Silence; Of But; What? 

What I I But How No, Will It Not Can’t Silence. 

Eh. The Finally. Mr. Los? Himself says?

Yah himself says. The But And, Those Only But, And Oh, All All Is No! 

Think! 

You I Wait, I Just Why I Yes You That’s But, I Uh, No—No, I There’s Have Yes; Yes But Good! 

Shut I No, Yes, No—I Never Go Go Crisis: The Listen; Coming. 

Building. 

Oh? 

Why? 

Because! 

You Coming, Pulled? Meester Los? Pray ‘ll?

Sharp. 

Tool, My Why? 

Why? 

I Coming. 

Ahh! 

Oh! 

And Here! 

Feel Feel Feel Feel How How Coming’s Unseen, Then Ignition. 

Ignition. 

Ignition.

Body. Sensation.

Wrong.

Why? Answers. Same.

Really? Three? what?

Throat. Itchy. That. Visceral. Itching.

Wait. There. Thing. Manuel Los, please come down.

Mean? Specific. Sensations. See?

Don’t.

Breath.

Oh? Okay. 

Now. Body. Sensation. Throat. Itchy. Proof?

Problem. Down. Manuel Los, please come down.

They’re waiting with bated.

Why? Unconscious! Unconscious! Saying!

No. Shut. Wrong.

You? Conclusion. Do?

Conclusion; Manuel, Manuel. Do you not know simply? Simply do as is, as following, that; so; tomorrow’s a wedding. Whose snot matters, could be yours mine hers, his or theirs or; its even it can; it can, be possible; can be possible in the playtimes of the children; whose children snot matters, could be yours mine hers, his or theirs or; its even it can; or, in the theoretical zones of them over there, them milling around that big ship’s gangway there, waiting to become employed for the day by one, yes just one, fingerpoint of someone in charge whose finger may be, yours—though unlikely by the spreadback of your face, or mine—more likely—hers—equally likely according to these scrolls, his or theirs or; its even it can could maybe must be, but. Get tricks Manuel Los?

You get and so forth all Manuel? All Los?

Do. Do.

Angry. Don’t. This?

Hold! Go. Proof. Okay?

Glare.

Okay?

Nod.

You. Agree. Disparate. Reasons. Also—

Nothing.

—hold! In. Slightest. Close. Body.

Listen. Same. Thing.

What?

Said. Me! 

Sorry! Ridiculous. Well?

Wait. Bit. Things thing. This?

Silence. 

B’ breaching the beach of zero whole days in a while. 

See? 

Squint.

Up?

Softly. Kincaid?

Meaning. Composed.

ARI? SMOG? Ease? Impertinent? Meaningless? Claim?

No! Think! Out. wrong!

Wriggling! Wriggle. Wriggle, wriggle me. Meaningless?

Meaningless. 

Did. Impertinent! 

But—

But here; now Manuel, this part’s critical; walk from the cross-space by the funeral baby, embodied by the lay and look of these big long deep plushly padded boxes, one of which’s ‘gainst these draperies here. He has pulled one hand free of its beam and slowly stretches to reach for the opposite wall why where, you are the only whatever you may be with, no haircut; bad clothing; the look of a; whatever it seems ‘e may be this day. And as it lies there wooden spread out of Father’s marbletones, they are saying he had no quality of life, its best he’s gone. The last year or so, eh, say here hey, look over at her there. What strength, what; strength. But now what eh. 

What nothing! Offended!

Wait. No. Why, Manuel?

Nothing! Offended! Reality! Truth?

Have. Say—Mr. Los. Please—

Good! Now! Winner! 

Not.

Am! 

In the big piglike.

Up. Do. Mind. Gas. On.

Coming—b’b’b’, Note-zake; B’ b’b’breaching the beach ‘f five whole days in a while. 

But’s switched on in the big.

Wait. Lucky.

Coming. 

Building.

The big piglike. 

Oh? says M. Los.

Why? 

Because! Itch!

Laughter! Gaspy-laughter!

In his, her, that’s, our, big piglike! Big piglike! L’ long.

But guess; so what?

Pulled. 

Sharp. 

But guess. Lifted.

Down!

Why? 

Why? Are!

But guess what? Coming.

Ahh! 

Oh!

And, but; Note-zake; B’ ‘aching the b’beach ‘f twenty-seven whole days in a while. 

Building. 

But guess what? Here! That? Are?

That!

Big piglike!

That!

Big piglike! 

B’u’u’ut; Note-zake; B’ ‘aching the Banners-beach ‘f thirty-three wh’le days in a while. 

Are!

Lucky!

Not to dare approach that like you’re! Like big piglike!

Building along. 

How dare. Ignition. Manuel Los come out of yourself.

How dare. Ignition. Come out of yourself.

How dare. Ignition. Come out of yourself. 

How dare big ignition. Hey Manuel Los please, come out of yourself, the rubbering meetsup ‘n the road now. So, pay tension; wait; Note-zake; split memory-factor; B’ ‘aching the Bannering-Bumbo-Beach ‘f fifty-five wh’l’ days ‘n a while—so, okay; how do you d’; so, uh, uh; these are needed because a man must not stand out like a thumb in certain inviolate occasions like, weddings. FYI; but all beachoranenerys shall remain open for business; FYI. Viewings of the funereal kind of type. Not even such as you, Manuel. Does not matter the term used for the kind of type. Rich man’s wedding, rich man’s funeral, and the many of the making of what and where’s required ‘n d’tween. Not even such as you. So please stop your sighing. Hic! As in your case, Meester Manuel Los, whose name, God willing, may remain as supra-‘ppropriate on your final day as when you first shot from the tiny tense hole all must be ejected through at any cost, for their effective ‘ginn’g of there Lyfe. The Gangnam styling and freaking nunwh’shhtuinting, he they her it and all like any of his hims must adhere to the dock of the bay style croonfest, seethingly stated as; snap-on, snap-off, a man must not stand out like a thumb in certain inviolate occasions, eloa, ‘ah! Occasions snap-on, a man must not stand out like a thumb in certain eloa, ‘ah! inviolate; dissolving occasions a, n’, snap-off, man must not stand out like a thumb eloa, ‘ah! In certain; dissolving in place occasions, a ‘nap-on, man must not stand out like eloa, ‘ah! ‘xt; a thumb in; dissolving in place man must occasions ‘nap-off, a man must not stand eloa, ‘ah! out like some thumb; in place, man must not stand o’ occasions a ‘nap-‘n, man must eloa, ‘ah! ‘ot stand out like a; man must not stand, out like occasions, nap-‘ff, eloa, ‘ah! By the truths of Rico Suave! M’n must not stand out like; ye’ must not stand out like, a t’ occasions eloa, ‘ap-‘n, ‘ah! ‘n must not stand out; must not stand out, like a thu’ occasions ‘ap-‘ff, man must not stand; out like a thum’ b’ ‘n eloa, ‘ah! ‘p-‘n, occasions man no must not no man must not st’; out like some thumb, eloa, ‘ah!  ‘p-‘ff, occasions man must; Thankskee Godsmen, Hamblidtational Attorney, at youse service; like a thumb, o’ eloa, ‘ah! ‘n, occasions, man; a thumb man, eloa, ‘ah! occasions ‘f, a; big thumb man, eloa, ‘ah! occasions; sna’-on, thumb, snap-of’, u’, thumb; dissolving in place would stand out like a thumb, man ; so don’t, snap on, snap off, fail to get, Snap on snap off snap uh; properly trimm’d off la’l barbering Barbaras, berberrons, buh; Note-zake; split memory-factor; B’ ‘aching the Bannering-Bumblecup-Beach ‘f fifty-five out of tween hundredths ‘f wh’l’ days ‘n a while. Holy steaming ejections, Batman!

On.

Eliot Treadwater S’squierly-Moon, seniorly lockloaded big data man, head of that laundry o’er there a’ swell, compels you! Free shirtwash eh kid? Eh, G.I—hashish? Psss’t—hashish? 

Knock no laundry anna haircut.

Hashish?

Knock, no! Monna laundries anna ‘ircut. 

Hashish?

Ahh! Laudries and haircuts laundries and haircuts clearly required, all weddings! And all funerals! Why you all dried up so quick ‘nyway, Manuel? You jumped in there less than one day ago. Why did you not know these are whys we flew back off ta’ ‘msterdanium town for a’nyway? Manuel Los why do you not know. You should really, you know. But. Why do you not know? Then get a job! And then so comes Friday.

Please. My hat.




Thursday, December 27, 2018

Jim Meirose - Between stormthunders twelve and thirtee

Stormthunder twelve sounds, then.

LumpenSchtickle PantZip, master of keys and ZornSchnuckler the Moon-Man Quasi-Big-Boy, are the chief culprits today spout our supersneaky spies. Tannenbaum, oh Tannenbaum, how germanesqui is thy root-ball. Only the sweetest peas can roll the distance. Carrots sliced thusly have no hope at all. Rent the attic now, kind servant; the need for quick money is dire. No painting please the thick mud will render it useless. Shrink us immediately, God—the need to appear as small as possible has finally arrived. We’ll risk the last wish my young Genie. Let us enunciate it as clearly as we know; but first we must rub our lamps some you know. Bodily functions yah yah bodily functions, yes we know—there now we are ready. Throw us some towels please first, though. Thanks a lot boy; yah man yo’ welcome. Oh we often tell ourselves this that and the other. God made us suchwise you know. He went to school is over twenty-one and reads and writes quite deftly—he’s been with James Brown and other groups, and he knows. Never trust a fully-grown man. Less so even when they’rer seventy. Feeling wildly sane yet brother? You don’t look so bad. Here’s another.

Stormthunder thirteen sounds, then.

Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Jim Meirose - Ending the Nine Month Long Important as Hell Corporate Conference Call

What? sniped the earpiece, rash rough crushing thrusting at Jamed’s ear, saying, What?
No? Why now what do you mean no hey what wait a minute Jeff cut the line yeah Jeff like I said
cut the audio! Right! So Jeff obeyed generating shuffling plastic on metal clashing while
electronically slowing down, pausing silently, stopping, so, yes; go; cut, thus boiling up silence
hard sharp and brittle, which packed hard filling Jamed’s ear canal, just like it had more than ten
times earlier in the God-damned conference call, with a kind of switch-click then a deeper
hollow nothing that all screamed all crazy, the show’s shut off the plug is pulled there will be no
more go on and hang up sounds like it might be like it might be it all the way, eh, yes—at the
emergence of this hollow nothing meaning everything gone empty noise, Jamed gave up and
pulled the phone from his burning with pain ear, the lobe of which was beet-red from having
tight pressure applied day after day of this months-long round table dissertation, which might be
over now yes or no but it seems the answer is yes because the pulled-down earpiece hissed with
sudden sound easily heard that said in every decibel of its elemental incoherence, OK listen now
we’re close to the end thank God we’re close to coming so wake up; this pistoned out hard from

the hot sweaty earpiece, and plunged further on grinding crushing harder yet against Jamed’s raw
red earlobe, pumping in more pain, that grew intense as that experienced when both ears are
being slowly slashed off by unwashed men using old kitchen knives for some silly but very evil
reason, only bearable in that this version though just as intense, is only momentary and words
once more flowed in against Jamed’s tissue thin pink eardrum, smoothly anesthetizing the
wounds where the ears feel like they’ve been forcibly removed, and calming him all the way in
through all past the drum and on across the hammer anvil and stirrup and on down spiraling into
the centrifugal cochlea, down and down straining for the finish line crowd all cheering, being,
gone, all hung up, and slammed down, but the phone can’t break no, it’s plastic. And, thank God,
thank God, thank God, now he can run and go pee.
What time is it anyway?