Wednesday, May 22, 2024

Outhouse (1989)

  

call me the butthole sailor.


meatloaf television hyperbole


swanprick flutter of illumination& a five


percent inflammation of the eyelids


veined drapery of flesh


encasing an exploding blue seashell shooting out


electric spaghetti entree antennae


tracers off the sparks of a kross


burning black smoke across the front yawn


of an aeolian


abortion clinic.


there


is no technique. i am the american hero,


king grain missile silo incorporated. 


we're ads fer abetterworld.


smoke some ice


in the urinal mind of a retired pig 


guarding the condom factory


at night filling them with helium's surreal advice,


hoping they clear the great wall of new york shitty.


i phone sex in silver city


postmark hallmark salutations


with sandpaper underwear's indigestible pride.


i am the american poet. 


pass me sum a dat dumbass


over there                    vern.


nutritious and delicious,


sky high with celery fiber verbiage roughage


freckles of embarrassed experience.


call it purple. chef of


apocalyptic cryptic mystical shit,


a duke of the stratosphear


pantheistic potential redeemer


loitering over the steaming idea of nothing


stirring vaguely as tho it were noun.


cayenne rapid bitchdog in heat radiation


glorybee spellings


speaking onto the gymnastium of fingers


into hammocks of heart& mind.


banners stream from the thoughts


as i take a bath or a bong-----mtn bike majesty 


titanium penis accessory& the 


skin peeled off miz armenia's skull 


to reveal a bustling garage sale


of talents to go vangoghs and pi-ca-so-what


guitar locks remain


on passion's ear, a citizen kane


matador of palimpsest


movies on cellophane dreamwrapping


seen thru the eyes of an orphan


seen thru the hallucinated conscience


of a nazi love slave


noxious words of ash, parsley, zoom------


------to the flintstone


chewable quaalude wrongly administered


in suppository sestina form


blocking megarush satori orgasm


realization of self


of nation of emptiness of images of


oral robert's basketball camp's towelboy


slinging sweaty jockstraps


fulla holy dandruff 


shakedown of


points shavings. butthole religion.


my god says alot alot.


plywood splinters from the confessional outhouse.


reading this 


is just like the time the mayor is found stuck in


a latrine, cause he was fooling


with someone's wife.


                                number one export: trash.


     number one food source: each other.


johnson county cannibals


swimming in rhetorical cloud formations


drunk bottles of some god's elixir.


ethereal winter grass


and fresheners doing the opposite,


dayglow redneck hunters stalking


drunk with uzzis on rent


from the baptiste youth center


whose towering cowering framework


snags these very very words o lighting


ben franklin masonic french gnostic dopesmoker 


inscriber of our


aeolian skull, factual driftwood of texas, surfer of the


assholes of this unicycle verse


in thru the outdoor


over stupidwaiters


leaping leftovers and emotional


plastic of reality


hyperfart deluxe rolling cart


wheels a deal down the aisles


pulling fourteen year old wives


fulla cans and cannots


&carrots of indiscretion


aerosol douche


peptodismal curlers rotten teeth regurgitate


ciggie smoke filling dryer dome


catscanning the noggin


searching the inner pouch of reproductive


organs of a topaz as it spazzes 


into the railing on the teeth of an


advertising broad spread eagle 


over the free american


whey the way of high heels


clipboards and yawn furniture.




sit and rest on america today




as buddha gives barbi a blowjob


and gbush serves pork rinds


to the holocaust ghosts.


the toilet overflows


the children are trimmed and square 


                 proper.                                    


fellas in compton are getting mad. 




i didn't make the news.


i just read what's up


on the wall.












1989 Lawrence, Ks


for the Butthole Surfers Y Tejas


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