Thursday, September 15, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Fitted Whisper (Notes from The Art Tatum Archive)
If you have eyes, the slave is yours.
A cartoon in there. Propaganda for true love. 88 Solo. Characters. Sure things. Creating the common language as they go. Pier. Dope. The cozy soot of near survival. Stallion approaching Bud Powell, Monopoly/arrhythmia/ my country 'tis of thee/sweet land of liberty/ land where my father was stylized into leopards and leaped.. of thee I sling, land of no narrow trance, no narrow trance in the lantern reflex of being noticed not noticing land wearing any person/ promise /mistress/standardized, you can't plan a crooked entrance into the rubble of bending down at the last minute just in time to admit the balcony mid-air in no-land-care, wary. Quarry between two open hands. We stay there. We look like a poster for staying there cushioning the look with gimme that stallion steal me back from them, can you
(Imaginary canopy, nope, actual anchor image down in my glands limitlessly digging them fountains, smokestacks, capital L. puff the magic ofay dragging out the riddens. We had the kind of time you can't tell when it amounts to space but it keeps expanding until the slave of your eyes shuts at the edge of labor, an entertainer)
Pretend to be jumping when you're actually falling and get called Jordan cause that's as far east as your gonna get without religion at the edge of labor, an entertainer. The omnivorous church door is blank neon octagon minimal coil c'mon and believe oral evidence only from now on if you have eyes the slave steals me back from them when he can, reaches for the edge of labor and palms pick up in applause, bossman, an entertainer.
I mean every witness is responsible for the slackened boundary between devotion and no narrow trance in the blindfolded midair performer, no pucker in his gift, working his way up your supervision
A cartoon in there. Propaganda for true love. 88 Solo. Characters. Sure things. Creating the common language as they go. Pier. Dope. The cozy soot of near survival. Stallion approaching Bud Powell, Monopoly/arrhythmia/ my country 'tis of thee/sweet land of liberty/ land where my father was stylized into leopards and leaped.. of thee I sling, land of no narrow trance, no narrow trance in the lantern reflex of being noticed not noticing land wearing any person/ promise /mistress/standardized, you can't plan a crooked entrance into the rubble of bending down at the last minute just in time to admit the balcony mid-air in no-land-care, wary. Quarry between two open hands. We stay there. We look like a poster for staying there cushioning the look with gimme that stallion steal me back from them, can you
(Imaginary canopy, nope, actual anchor image down in my glands limitlessly digging them fountains, smokestacks, capital L. puff the magic ofay dragging out the riddens. We had the kind of time you can't tell when it amounts to space but it keeps expanding until the slave of your eyes shuts at the edge of labor, an entertainer)
Pretend to be jumping when you're actually falling and get called Jordan cause that's as far east as your gonna get without religion at the edge of labor, an entertainer. The omnivorous church door is blank neon octagon minimal coil c'mon and believe oral evidence only from now on if you have eyes the slave steals me back from them when he can, reaches for the edge of labor and palms pick up in applause, bossman, an entertainer.
I mean every witness is responsible for the slackened boundary between devotion and no narrow trance in the blindfolded midair performer, no pucker in his gift, working his way up your supervision
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Denoument In Monument
It seems that the only two happy people in this movie are, ummm, slightly crazy
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Are you a little bit addicted to magic?
By coming into a supernatural family wherein the word should should never arrive with respect to building a bridge and the word obliged I pumped and deflated ladylike huffy tires while I
uttered it with a sophist's harmonica kit-trophy, not lust, wuthering, custody, my lucky exhalation playing Monk's Suburban Eyes plus you don't cry enough
In a dynasty-shaped fieldway of what backlash exodus painting disappearance into its return/Some myth/ is a filthy brigade I'd like to claim an addiction to/ traces of joy so brave in the tension they break it into that silly hunger to be unknown famous Monk, forever. I'd grown up calling it trust, found out it's just inventory you keep by not keeping count, grown up calling it a county family succulent fairgrounds, rides and prizes, slow down an isle. And can blow listening through this miniature cage and come out singing about a ballgame in reporter cadence: mania, jolliness, dejected charisma, real paid. All you have do is go blind to the sight of yourself to find the idea was crowded with memorization which came to mean looking though you couldn't see anything you didn't remember being told to see. Or pretend you're the announcer at ballpark figure and say what's happening and how much it's gonna cost us
Because you should
uttered it with a sophist's harmonica kit-trophy, not lust, wuthering, custody, my lucky exhalation playing Monk's Suburban Eyes plus you don't cry enough
In a dynasty-shaped fieldway of what backlash exodus painting disappearance into its return/Some myth/ is a filthy brigade I'd like to claim an addiction to/ traces of joy so brave in the tension they break it into that silly hunger to be unknown famous Monk, forever. I'd grown up calling it trust, found out it's just inventory you keep by not keeping count, grown up calling it a county family succulent fairgrounds, rides and prizes, slow down an isle. And can blow listening through this miniature cage and come out singing about a ballgame in reporter cadence: mania, jolliness, dejected charisma, real paid. All you have do is go blind to the sight of yourself to find the idea was crowded with memorization which came to mean looking though you couldn't see anything you didn't remember being told to see. Or pretend you're the announcer at ballpark figure and say what's happening and how much it's gonna cost us
Because you should
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)