Listen. There is a bucket into which I release my salient juice extractions. This bucket tends towards hell-raising. In the end, what has to happen will happen.
There is a blank hollow mess that dispirits the outward-turning face - a ravage comes fast through bland events. The inward-turning face is a glacial jumble, a bee of misapprehension - feature-free and manic. This is the better face. Here are its mirages:
1. A patch of cow-print on a sloping lawn, sub-divided into squares (Sloth, these squares are uneven too - blades of grass poke through the cracks).
2. Amoral glass stems in the ubiquitous tube shape - shooting upward, a vertical thrusting.
3. Implements of cut: the shears, the kid scissors, the butter knife, the saw, the sword. They dance a cut dance, protruding in unison out of a single spinning unit.
4. Several weedy, black-cloaked thieves. With hunched shoulders and frizzy grey hair, they tip-toe about the periphery - they scheme and are foiled.
This is another progression, not unwelcome, that unfolds without warning. It is dead of sound.
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54 comments:
I just wanted to send out congratulations to me for having scored the first posting on what will no doubt be a long and fascinating blog stream. Well done, Doctor! Well done indeed. Carry on.
I vote for the cut dance, please. The hollow mess of faces is scary. Be careful MM of the mirages. I hope you are sleeping now.
please initiate the dance on my hammocks. extract the foam. you may pour this into candle molds at your discretion.
the fly bag is still going strong. almost filled to the brim.
Please dance on my hamhocks.
Which half?
Both halves, please.
I would like to be schooled in the dance of the vicious weeper. Can King N. teach me?
Thought I would break in here and point out that I did make the first post. Admittedly, it didn't really have much to do with the original posting--but its was still THE FIRST. That counts for something, right? I guess I am just grateful for this kind of opportunity. I don't often get the chance to be first in anything. I wish my mother could see this. She would be really proud. It's the kind of small triumph that would have meant a few cherished hours of freedom from being locked to the radiator. I do feel a little badly that I didn't come up with something more pithy or or even relevant to say. Damn, I always screw things up!! If I ever get the chance again, I know I won't fuck it up! Sorry about the cursing.
I will burn some skittle incense and tear down my Angel posters now.
Dear Doctor, I am so proud of you in the manner of your mother for your posting. I miss the Doctor in the Tardus badly. But what I want to know is which doctor are you? Do you wear the scarf? The tan coat? The knickers? I need help.
I will not empty the bucket. The bucket is neverending in terms of bottom and top.
I am a weeping bucket.
More lists please.
I am the best of all Doctors: I am the John Pertwee years doctor. By the way, I have the supple buttocks of a manatee ,
Doctor, your buttocks must be beautiful and grey. How do you fit them into your frilly clothes?
Doctor, doctor, what is wrong with me? Today green puss ozzed out of my tail and I lost my eye brows completely. I also vomitted three clam shells.
Oh PD. Grody.
Because I am a master of the time/space continuum I can squeeze my ample manatee buttocks into any of my fetching velvet and lace outfits. The daleks see my tusche and tremble. PD, I think I have a salve that will solve your problems. Just call my gal and make an appointment. I am also having a special this month on Tattoo removal.
Wow, Dr. T., I feel better just knowing you're on the case. Can you remove my Papa Smurf tattoo that I got in the early 80's? It just happens to be on my buttocks, just above the tail.
Oh PD. The Doctor may have to carry you to another time and place maybe? Doctor? Are you headed into a wormhole where there are evil plants that come to life? Tell of your travels and make sure PD is safe if you take her. Will Sarah Jane Smith be there as well?
Yes, doctor, will I be traveling far? Will I be eaten by a venus flytrap? Or maybe a fly I-V bag of the FB variety? Tell me, will my insurance cover this?
Just go and revel in the danger.
Sorry to "leave you hangin,'" in street parlance. I was busy wrestling giant maggots with my luxurious cape. Best regards to you all. Your humble servant etc., etc.
Many precious Bucket. Like glass cow print transparent to mind, overtaking mind, full. Much sun throughout you Mountain, many lights. You shine precision open cut and blame thieves.
Dear Sushi you are a wand of magickality that comes into the shell of words. I spent some hours in front of the relic of modulating sky - triangles, rectangles and trapezoids warping the stretched out land lid. Caverns of delight articulated roughly below. I do not know why I insist on more and more lines and smears of color, as if each mark will have a worldly impact???? DELUSION reigns supreme. This is the time of the corn-nut.
Most enigma, Mountain Man, I can many thoughts. But misunderstand, delusion plus work are true and blameless. Most glass is clear.
Thank you Sushi. Your words calm, they blur. I ramble your insides with scrub brushes. I grab your neck and froth at the mouth with happiness. Time to crush you with bubble gum (in a good way).
I cannot stop the hiccup appeal. I learn nothing, I attract no one, yet the snorts and blips come fast like waffles. I am serious that I have no purpose. Friendship is a thing of the past.
Oh und I have no purpose either. My zeal for life has left me without pennies. I want to give, an ocean of giving of units of purchase. I am sorry for having so many coins.
This is banal and bland, the face ravaging is part of my nuisance. I have hates.
Face ravashing is hot. As is throatpoking.
Deloise, Sloth does not comprehend. You have coins but no pennies? How do you make change? Sloth is very interested in change.
Oh Sloth, it is portentous. The coins are worthless yet I have many. The coins are from the olden days of yester. The pennies are less and disappearing, the pennies are taken without regard. The confusion is mine, the harrassment begins with too much and too little at once. I am ruined.
Randy you sound like a mental patient. Sick and watching of too much television.
I am changing my name to Dudley this night. It seems right in sound. Sloth I found a picture of you in the ether that I must post. It is lovely and frozing.
I am patient, sick and watching too much.
Dudley, I love you. You do right.
Dear Randy, the sicks come in waves. The watching is part of the action of doing. I can help if you want cans of tremulousness. I have love and honor on my sash. It is frying me. Smooches to the hussies.
I am offering love in the form of Cheeto explosions. I am near you. I am wanting to give orange powders and embraces of arm.
Head feels like paste. Time to go diagonal and seek truthfulness in the form of rape pants.
The impossibility of true change makes the need for money superfluous. We are what we are and are forced to need those things that nourish us however painful or impractical.
Scum is in a sack Bill. It is time for the sweat lodge.
diagonal
sash
slope
slide
hill.........
it is precipitous
Mostly open and many happy sad feels. Much sun comes down, setting, set. Inside noon clear, outside shut badly. Your many luck yours continual. Hold unyielding.
Much loves to you MM and your beautiful blogarium and its critterly denizens. It is a true-enough joy.
Slothy has a black belt in sleep. Must go practice now.
I am sending kisses to all who are in want of them.
Sushi, I wish to rub you and lick your sweet face and ear.
Hi MM! I am back but you are gone, are you not? Are you seeking truths in the form of seeping squares? Enlightenment in the form of sliced meats?
Have a nice day! That is my philosophy. I am going to wear a smiley face t-shirt all day today in honor of this.
Sounds like a plan, Krix. Sloth will wear smiley-face pants, with the face on the bum.
Unrequited.
Mountain Man, Ham Paw, come home!!! Me sad.
I've been finding almost all of my sushi detroit here
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