Basement Party (In The Future with Ursus Majora)

The searing of Klunkistan in the near prairie hell of it

Open wide the door of this lately opened wreathe Intransigent hopeless old man Let you labor beneath the lung of my breath for this to breathe I know you have my knock knock girl She's gorgeous pretentious and barely but almost brief, Foxtod in the Mire Pool

The bottle's dry now. It's house night but the basement switched to funk about an hour ago so the couch is empty. Smoking here in my jetpak is nice but its hardly innocent. Kurtis wants to move forward but I don't know... Instead I'm making time with this lost bear, Bear. His breath is awful and the rest smells like clover and warmed over shit. Still I run a finger around Bear's lazy ear and watch it twitch. I think to myself, green and red now that's International Common right. Now there's a ball team I can get behind.
Bear roars at the waiter. Sorry, says the server. Then Bear unexpectedly bellows again and I surprise pee a little bit. I look at the guy and tell him, Its just a little fun. Like you've never needed to blow off some steam after work. Then the server leans in to grab the glasses and I ask if he's ever seen a real bear cock. The waiter turns white like a fish and hurries off. Sorry, I call out after him. I've only always ever been as mercurial like this. Oh hasty hasty me. Be a doll Bear, wrap this mess up. We can take it to go.

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Totem

Tonight is old. It's wett but current and bored. I'm watching nothing but stars in the often sky that happen... do... tonight is lame like old, young like song, even as blue... Equal after the sun, noon or scripted yellow you are to me... A we (as sound)

Songlet is Best

fig.0231) FizzGraf MT. "Magical, like a chorus of like minded souls in a froth of cotton fumes." Over fake doors, under refurbished ladders, gypsum board and bent yellow pipes offering us an unmade bed and a stained window. Our one chance at tomorrow. Magnetic guts from at least a thousand cassettes are strewn across the room. Hee-Haw style, fancy dress shoes cling to the floor like it's '86 all over again. Hee-Haw, goes the sound. Hee-Haw, we're closer then we were. Hee-Haw, it's hilarious. Listening for trains, leaning out over the rails like two people with no time at all. Better maps, that's what we need. We could use a melody for singing with this chorus; in whose curious presence more patients wait to be found. With hands over our heads, someone passes by and asks, "gender?" There's stars in this sweet tooth of mine and some atoms left from the sky, Tonight the whole angle of heaven sleeps without light. Ordering its coffee darkest, t

Whiskers, chanting, "swap me, swap me!"

Fig.32) Aging poorly We're just together, taking ourselves for a tidy sum of walk and now our toes are wet and cool in the Lak, beside a cool stone that could drive a modernist to their flint. There's a listening experience that feels prepared, "our's for now, ours it says! Here's the hammer and it's wrapped in its own design already. A union in time-space, this card is our greetings, our massive, our very patience is reflected in this resolve." Suddenly, there's a cut away and she's wearing the pants that I've made for her, slow blue like painted smoke . I'm thinking about her hunched over the kitchen table, something that's stuck. There's a carving knife in her hand but from here, it's the same as an old spoon. From here my computer is sitting on my guilty seat, I'm thinking about champagne and comparing it to a thick wad bees and wondering whats in it for me? It's an anxious season, filled with not enough of anythin

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