DESTROY OCEANS (CREATE MOUNTAIN CHAINS)
June 29, 2004, 02:05

{dawn}
!!!the Hi-Fi Internationale walks among us!!!
Over the counter somnambulist cat claws his way through the place
:“contrast; his greatest conception Internationale: a model exhibited showed a strange skeletal structure. Empire State Building, Eiffel Tower had contained within its meetings which were days, respectively, above Moscow.” 

[BULLETIN:] The circle is closing in. 

The despotism of Czech is a leeching heaven 
Descriptions which develop become hostile to realism 
And watch me conceal in the new plastic idea.
The Violent Four agrees…

The circle is closing in.

{midday}
the tape worm factory and sleep is a sickness.
The red squares are the ones that keep me down
With streaks of sour steam sickening my lungs
Branding my days in Czech
Oh the sleeping gypsy, the sex collector
Oh the isolations appetite bears a distilled fruit.
Icons and Idols, a full fathom five of automatic emotions.
the executioners of the estate embrace with the hydra.
Yet I am the bounty of the industrial age
Drowning in the salt of the earth 

{sundown}
the electric animals are in heat for a sirens song
the skin smoking in the summer heat
and the lady in chemicals going for the jugular.

Past the ambience of Salvation City Limits
Grappling hooks on the ship of fools
Through the sandwiched houses and home sweet homes
The film and conjunctivitis rise from the Badlands
[STATISTIC:] 5 to 1 stripped bare by the falls 
Insects like maternity figures, wasting material and bolweival. 
Sloth in the city of the dead, deloused, deflowered.
Concerned and burned by the tripe, 
The Twin Engines are reassigned to The Double Doors. 
The Double Doors is a mid conversion narcotics museum and lavatory fit neatly between the foreground colonies of the Badlands.
The looming watchtower witnesses the boiling seas and the wars over novocaine.
The endless mess of television hum and litter.
The Oedipus traps watched over by the Finger Tramps
And they’re marching off into the hills to die
But to the Twin Engines…it is home.

{dusk}
the degenerate heartbreak hotel, lips to lungs and all
backyards; it was a furnace burning, burning from degenerates
tears were lull and rolling because the army was calling him home
they gave him shots for 21 
but the pints of blood will taste as sweet
oh, calico friend, our time was sworn thin
and brandy, some handles are worth holding on to 
clothed in fine linen, beauty is found in the simplest places 
a violent four cheers for this distant discovery
oh, but the dawn may yet send out a warrant
and helen, your troy may come back in a casket

{twilight}
dopple pheramone at the lake of fire, firing off the vicious spores
pheramone in a wire calling, calling out an SOS
the bois d’amour is boiling, boiling on her very whim
dead sephia with the moon replying 
or the salvation black tea recessing as cherubs 
no division or spade would question her threats
as we leave our salvation for the new city…
{IMAGE REMOVED by UbuZip}
[END VIENNAGRAM:]