12 Dec 2021

So how did that [innix] happen?!

 All online chatterboxery, all so confected and emojiified and hypernormaleyses everything, when they all live in nothing.

How propitious....

In the land 'habit' only became her a few months ago, walking down the street - even if mine art is about the hills and the non-person, except for her....

"habit, luv, i always talk only to and for the little ones.... and as for actions, always, only for them"
we shall come back to that.


did i do the last supper?
Too much happens, even The Skipper she smiled, behind her "muzzle"

You want poignancy, this is the most poignant picture on all of his stroy (herstory "no not really") it actually brings a tear as i type 
Because her - Baby Figs..... why? why ? ..... she couldv ad mountains as she needs em.....
And i don't want to hold her mountains in the palm of my bloodsytained hands..... as she saw. 

Even him, one's mortal enemy even if that's in hos sick mind..... is a friend. When it comes to shared oppression and tryranny.

And then.... just when a day is paradise lost, put in the washing machine, for that last pound of free energy, and 

well lets put it this way 'it' is back - to awake at very very warmest hour is about three hours before the dawn and her face comes back so starkly, an image in my mind...(just stolen of Tully on his forever bullshit about other cultures and hypermisery which is all basically prostitution - today we don't bother only one ear on him between tracks on loud ....especially his )  


" you don't want to be wearing that round ear Mister grinning-builder's-fat-face-down-in-the-plate  a bit too brown lives matter compliant they'll run you out of town ...   if you can bring yourself up off of your plate..."

And his image competes, as he is worthy, being he is only about the now of nothing, never, always....

But there is imagery. All very pious and well, but Misses Flying J, (" i can't remember your mum's name either but i always remember her email address....not that she can manage to answer a well written one with a paragrpah of coherent words in reply .....when i don't fancy her but only ever wish to offer respectful rural mutual honour and mutual benefit") 

Little Miss F J....

Little Miss...

"what nickname do you want her to put me down under...?"

""Bended knee team man...."

"good you get the idea except like a certain stroppy artist i never drink tea and only ten cups of coffee from dawn ..."

[ there are no brackets that suffice or could capture what next
There is no image or line of poetry
a whole shitty little town of them all head down shuffling eyes down looking at their feet
her - the beauty in my mind, and her mate's 
"mainly invisible" "corporeal"

we looked in each others eyes, as if 'flies buzzin around your eyes' 

surely she is gonna burst out crying
"mummymummy ..... yuck disgust look what he did.... 
 its on my clean jeans
mummy mummy call the yellow van...mummy ...."

And the deepest loudest laughter on and on ever and ever 
and on and 

"well i think she needs to put me er device as ' coffee down the wrong way and spat out man.'.. oh my love... I have never heard laughter so completely real as that.... i am so glad i met you at last .....[because there was never any point ever bothering with it's all nuts and a waste of time and energy every day.... just noting but then..... as he said   'it..... i don't even know how to put it in words despite my Oxford fellowshipness, and decades on the great tome of it..... but it..... recreates itself every matter what the fuck you think is the shittiest place in the universe, or the end of the line..and there aint no official god involved or witch on drugs.... or ever ever ever cash or clicks for their self regard.... it just is..... always, no matter what just let......

go  ....] "