Reliquary Mime Attachments
1.zip I shave my mons. I pull
it back and reveal my clit. I ride
it back and forth along your shaft. This
image I keep among Fallujah bits we-know-not
of-what that scattered as November leaves do
in England frost blackened or perhaps post-firework
smog shard flakes in anycase post-fragging snowsteaks
these fellas helicoptered spin-thrift-dirt but no onesayin’ n shush
7 stars floating around inside my cist; let’s hope
resurrectionists don’t find John Nepomucene’s
beard clippings. Reputedly drowned. I rub.
They burn(ed).You moan man shit.
We all fear being found out.
I close my lid. Lyke-
wakened lips
sealed.
2.arcYour cum splatters dried to an un-
remarkable farinaceous lace warp a-
cross my shoulder: homing pigeon drop-
pings. Noah’s the first but him too old t’have
grown his own did the entire world’s. So, I’m reim-
bursed by St. Francis’ birds. What he scattered
by way of crumbs,
by way of a total disregard for sums. Not counting recompense.
No sense in tallying your Asperger’s daughter’s private
verbal babble orgies first thing in the morning
with my seemingly-saner-simpler ADD son’s terse logic
to meet present’s target. We wipe up
after last night & count blessings
by the light of what matters
into Assisi’s sampler
sewn “Sweet”
3.ico“The lower is not invaded by the higher,
nor treated as a convenience and utility,
but sustained instead, and its proper
value respected”
Trojerucica. We had just fucked
which took four hands. (Res: you heard
my child call, not me – in my little death)
logicality’s isopleth step
stairs
tap
water
£ Stop frame by Oxfam vase She’s in
Trying to make of Her a Trinity
internet Adobe Photo Shop print less
pixels less less pixels She’s sellotaped
to my Fiesta dash
not yet like a dingly dangly furry die
in the Landie
not warding, still a Two Hander
Mistio: Her sacrality
condensed *how immense you heard her call*
a Thomatic divide he would
not have it
so be
4.swfDymphna has leashed a 24-year-old man
planning to turn himself into a human bomb
for a devastating attack on the capital before
Christmas. He admits 2 girls died in his house,
that he dumped their bodies in a remote ditch,
cut their clothes off and set fire to their bodies
and the clothing. Police are investigating claims
that he persuaded young boys to take all their
clothes off while playing slot machines in his home,
on the pretext that this would stop them using hidden
magnets to cheat. There’s no room for him in the little
heart shaped box which contains children’s milk
teeth, a lock of hair from when I was blond, a
crucifix/a broken rosary, a piece of rock (crystal),
(extended family in Montana), a wedding
ring. These are BIG things that
take up all the space a heart
may blow
so
thus are dead unburied
dead shrivel
led
dead take less
room