_______ a machine--- dada DuffeE here an there Blog Being ReDonE remAke your blog/to contingencies/aleatory/conditions of time ...'a lot a little schizo ... round the bevEled edges..'>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>reOrgAnd
Spirale.. de Ridha Dhib
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chamber music
_______ Joyce who fancied himself at times a s a simple middle class man or a bourgeois was in fact a s ecret and unconscious dada ist who had prepared his whole life to write Finne gans W ake the great dadaist prose poem of the millions of languages and words and denotations and con
unused work 1
I seen your feet
everyone hears your stirred pride
.
cow brindled to the sow. rearing hercoat. of fine..
its gif of plenty
and here you little sneak!
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wept by feet
tarried undeground my Eurydice.
stammered by the hot gate whenever
your heart tears it
pulls weeds like
enjambment does cutting around the feathered edged cup. Or Whitman's strong verse that so many denied. castigated. Or say your body. Hips edged on the thrust of the bed. and around the bed your million feet. Or say our arms roughed up by love making. Crackled black blue and green in the kisses, or the body's hissyfits. Fits like your thighs do to mine. Is that it? yer wish list of coming around the bend. Like any rebus does. Or married to the moment. The instant filter moment of your kisses, and my hands pressed palm plate to yours lover. Come again. Come again, sometime. Between the river and city, and you have chosen the moment entering as coming exiting as birth near plateau. Or garnered by the wheat of shadow and fiction. Here then nowhere then now ~
Come then , my darling I will teach everything. Little feasts of pedagogical erotic. As the bookof your thighs leans into the fire of my horn. Horn of , Horn of and Horus ~
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Come then lover, you've found your place. Between our bed.
Hot pant steamed as the kiss. Rivered by night.
Your thighs tent plays to me. We are wielded by night's
bawdy and night . Voice. Rummed into your seat. These kisses of
eyes
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every word you said is
remembered
cold stone
married to your rose
gathered by wheatwept by feet
tarried undeground my Eurydice.
stammered by the hot gate whenever
your heart tears it
pulls weeds like
enjambment does cutting around the feathered edged cup. Or Whitman's strong verse that so many denied. castigated. Or say your body. Hips edged on the thrust of the bed. and around the bed your million feet. Or say our arms roughed up by love making. Crackled black blue and green in the kisses, or the body's hissyfits. Fits like your thighs do to mine. Is that it? yer wish list of coming around the bend. Like any rebus does. Or married to the moment. The instant filter moment of your kisses, and my hands pressed palm plate to yours lover. Come again. Come again, sometime. Between the river and city, and you have chosen the moment entering as coming exiting as birth near plateau. Or garnered by the wheat of shadow and fiction. Here then nowhere then now ~
Come then , my darling I will teach everything. Little feasts of pedagogical erotic. As the bookof your thighs leans into the fire of my horn. Horn of , Horn of and Horus ~
_______________________
Come then lover, you've found your place. Between our bed.
Hot pant steamed as the kiss. Rivered by night.
Your thighs tent plays to me. We are wielded by night's
bawdy and night . Voice. Rummed into your seat. These kisses of
eyes
101 years after the 1918 Manifesto the anitdialectial machinery of Dada Tristan Tzara ...
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I am he the new dada mamamamamachinnnerrrrrry of stratospheric atmosphere
but that year you forgot all about dada too an tristan tzara an tristantzara an you were reading you were reading you were reading another cinema calendar of the waste land its dissolving frames a mile a minute....
as your ruckus went somewhere else turning round the right bend of
every delire every dangerous delire in two and one in town
in tow to her love boat, or her love crutch or her love but,
no one knowing
no one know it was rain an snow in mid may the prince the slate of may when marching ban ds of proletariat showed up....
to was continue was fed to its hurrting loving real self.... an her body was gone/
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