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26 March, 2011

Mao in Low Format

Maybe schizophrenic
Okay machine
I don't think I'm a' gunna speak

Roll, roll you down
That's that, how the story goes
Roll, roll your bones
Umbee it's better, taken from the sole
Roll, roll your own now
That's that, as the story grows
Roll, on your home
Is it better taken from the (w)hole

La da de, la de da
La da de, la de da
La da de, la de da
De dum, dum, dum, dum, de da

It's okay, there machine
Wash me out
From the inside spleen
Outside's Hilrolya
Michael's pile of dream
We're situated insolation
Abbot you under,
The terrible Think King

a poem by Blank Black and Black Blank

13 March, 2011

Preschool Blues

Eggshell tatters larval glow worm viscid throats
 five feet over Jimmy rolls
 waist-high liquefier
welcoming board Don
remove your so-ho(s) and set into the darkest
horde tag number one-eighteen one-eighteen one-eighteen
 red light/green light, no call
perpetual note
school-time choke
werbs glibe the length of the rope
noose meaning slip cope
before they have left the roof of my house
gaping cavities smell of toys
sweetie smiles for me, Welling
pleasing is easy fort da dark
roll over rover
feel the inline feel
d-nub blade bobble cut d-um down
dollies missing, armies melt-me-ma
a 1,2,3 cut-line
start slow
milk's low
breasts two feed
worms of Sammy's envelope o' ope