the ... characters in those book


you  toi that is,  see the schizophrenic delay begins. things get caught removed scattered
                                                         between here and there headache eyes eyes you peoples idears. idea r. I dear is .
                                       As night witch broom holds the frost to the coming tide

                                               does trusting tristan tzara meet rainer maria rilke in the sonnets to 
                    orpheus? did 
he read them writing?

rill and tata______________________________
it s the middle of her thighs

does not the trick
not hatred
the glare
of there


________________________________she left radio villemaria heading home  as the bridge wearing her heart 
down  came upon the lover hanging there

recalli ng

the night 


of her extreme pleasure



the airplaine of immanence

 Sat. slat salt that plane. air plane. fault line flat space of immance. And jill bottom loined bitter-bottom line retold rebooted the crinkly line and . Huffed her puffed house up. She's not immanent nor eminent to the something-else transcendent. But a bucket of wheat! and her hail-down self.  How can she unthink what she's thinked. In the kitchen sink. nah, not like Rachel, nor the seven dwarves of that sleeping dame. There's nothing, there aint a thing between her and its nothingness beside.

____________________La Treasure La Transcendent. A between book memory of her pirate self, alongthe driftplay of her body seized by every harbor. Her pert self, the lover.

Inside and outside of every thought, a mobius  cut connecting her purpose with hre vision  divine becoming. Not Russian nor Byesexual but a brilliant achievement along the forelane of what's thought.

  • ___________________________________________________________ On this plane she's heteorsexual to her truest miraculating and the schizz field of floweing thunder.A  woman's asssoften cheeky.Horny and ambitious? Perhaps she's a sweated harlot in the buttock of feat and defeat. To every sender that ever was.

_______________________ Now a memory from the theophantic day. A perhaps around the buzz of flower. A wasp shrinking an orchid and a byway into the Out.


No one becomes this    ~ way.

_________________________________ First  becoming you nibble her feet. then her coat, her hat stand.A stag antler to holding up the posse.
  Reckoning in this way, that, no one stands.



our knot come home


So Doctor Deleuze has it on the spin, and the adhesive and the reckoning roll of her hardrockening buttocks, nor the sand of her ribbed  vacuum the vane of delight    ~  Over this intensity and rainbow spoken lover, unspoken thought of her charming dot. Not foresought nor forsworn but pleasure by every greed and tempering. She rose to the plateau of its microthought silly to her naval tongue  ~ .

Yer not every other thing   ~ indeed O song of knight. Composing your ring, clomping over lower case letters and lover. Indeed of bow and sprint spring and other lovers. Their double faced bodies and some. Handsome hamadryad of the deteriorating deterritories ~ and the stories of fetlocks and their naves, rotten dying o f her their own disease as the shuttering mockery continues. AS the prayer. 

You're not every other thing either    ~. 

You're not between each thing   ~but you are each thing, the rose, stone, pebble, groan,                                               her check, the family allowance and memory's peacocked frame. However, howsomever only one and two are true .As the plumb line varies 

Cadence to its knocking back flood. She wears minny skirts to low brow conferencing calls... waking the flutes of thing as she   ~ .


                            And opening your oboe every  pose remaining   ~.


Jill has a whip

Jill has a whip pseudomasochistic  ~her belly  the underarmour of its . And she's told the others too that consistency planes do not break the intensities of the curling plateau. But what more?

She needs to be wants to be punished. it thrills her to hear the whip whacking her clear arse of round void   ~ whack! (and) she cries! she cries!
 the sting!
of it hurting    ~ her she 's freed to cry out held by the glooms of forest   ~ and amber is a dark tonight.
Oh god she says how I love it's feel across my ass especially when youtouch me torch meafterwards
and I am roaded to extreme by your pleasuring me    ~O how my mouthbody screams    ~. That way she feels the punishment enduring solid reasonable   ~ cared to the body she is    ~ .
and rocks its sodom its solemn double ending needle to her pointed shaft. A curse to her loaming self.

'Jill and her tousled hair double lover to the mix max page jeep and  readies her double lover glitch the campaign arising from   cellar mates kerning and keening    ~. It's an Irish way and its barrowing along country roads and lanes does the trick   ~ triumphant as any Knight her riding boots got pins and rimed tires caps that sparkle in dark after moon showing   ~
                            its the trip for the heroes of this chapter :

Mated by bullion socks. Levees and burning lakes and property lost along the nuclear lake. Not of silence and disposition but of the world created storm, a gathering muscle of penetrating fogs manacling the peace of the earth.

                 Jill's sleeping the repose of wicked paternal nature. Mona has her number in feet. In       extraterrestrial numbers. By the fog wain night. She's  a page to her squire's love. His body forked to her double tuned love   ~   hunger.  Restless to its keep.                       Challenged to  fate   ~  . Dared to its face  ~ .


Someone said I not me you Not you me Not I not I not  I .'


                           Advised from another condition she wears the saddle. Heap to her downy ass and drowned sailor pelf. And. In his way, she's hers. her always ever   ~ .

_________________________Founded in Greece and solemn Rome    ~.



Saint schizlow

_____________Stamp the letter on your forehead   ~  ._______Mail here to the point of memoir .

Mona's mash-up call it that. Those days of night as evening passes its precipice. Phillip of Sardinia is that one .. an island its witch called a... broom a board an iron ...

Not irenic nor ironic she's tabled the foursquare meals of the moon. Lapping the sudden beauty of their long legged revelation. The beauty of those Berri de Montigny women. Long legged as any loon rivalling buttocks reeling in
the spin of their talking.

Mona! talk to me! saying this way that way word to word mouth breast to plated breast kept abreast by her ovaries overture     ~ 

 Mona reeling from plateau to plateau .... plato to plato relish to reel is that factotum back yet ? yet back to back its dumpy cloud form shuttles her hands . Clad in silk and dungaree, she's best a breast girl to the rest , the remainder you cunning thing!

__________________________halt to her dangerous beauties . She's sleeping with another womean. O mean of the platitude of forsaken nights and gift. By donation and pleasure's the exclusive one. To say nothing of her synonymiques     synonymous measure. Nor the doubting thomas of her restless query.

if any waiting waitress loves it's she. the one of th perpendicular hat. An d her tray and soft heels. Booted to the calvary of restive forks and plates. Caps to go gown too   ~.

_________________________________________Since she's free there's no one there to tell     ~.


Hanky Panky


"We fear the novel, waiting for the morsel , the comma. the piece of peace which makes the primary displace the only one the shiver of the teeth in the sonnet chewing chalking mouth."

Jill says to franny says to Mona says to Jacky _ three in bed tumbling bedsheets around the alarm clock  ~ . Whatother clock is there His cock resting in her mouth, she sides. She lifting his body over  .
Her  sex  womb holding waiting  him in    ~ in the within  .

"Jill : there was nothing like that when first we flowed to the libretto. Motorola of the crystal hour merged into the crushed seed of its pasture. Not so the boy's body, the pretend girls body. Werewolfs are working across the crowd, the crescent hangs titteringly on the moon . Mattering its secretary with accent and switch."

Franny knew all spaces came ___ in the a night ___, in a  day, was poetry running free backwards, Papulling toward _____________ back toward day, it was like that 'Radio Privee Philosophy' so it , yes, prize, might, power went to --- Can Orpheus speak it, Can Jill, Can Jill Deleuze author of the Antioedipus ever find her passage out of the strand?

___________________If three in one is a becoming invisible risible. She hefts, laughs his chin to breast friend partner. This way my man as the  green door opening her legs spreading and spreading a river a bank a bridge opening its awnings   ~

Listen (glisten the glass!)  and learn, our spinning jennies will have no self. 'Deep' 

in her unconscious she heard the voice of the pardoning of the bard that was the 

trickle of majesty sailed forward the tense of the snow hungered in the doorway of 

the sentence, the coffee cup  desire and the spanking of knight (he's a bad boy choice reckoning on punishment's silver spin) .  Could not anyone say these things and be prayer? Was French the language of 20th c. philosophy? Was it a detective story?

Follow the eye which trips into its heart.

Franny wondered about Paradise and loss, and wondering wondered what Mona was doing crossing the seven seas only to meet Satan nee Lucifer, and the goddess Ashtaroth, and her mullioned servants. Was Rimbaud also a sort of Satanic figure schizophrenizing himself down the byways and highways of deterritorialization?

_________________________Still a mage in rain, a body fleeting   ~ 
           ____beauty's tough squall   ~.

                                  Over the body without organs the mermaid and the princes
holding their tufted horns      ~  . No like to this spare part, its mint along the salvoes of tea   ~ Mint tea and chewing nuts   ~   . Over the side riffin' fine, her kisses her her kisses his her  ~ .



that heard a mental strained his hearing and the accolades and the alcoholic sand, the pissing waterfalling and the louvre of the black balcony and her hand around his

: this weaving the trophy desire's black bush
                                                                 And the call raved back. Call. As night
 hitched its wing. Gathering the dumb knight his hoarward wheel front backward. A compliant clomping clomping  the double faced tattered. By the double armed trim of their love    ~.



Her Métier

Balderdash and metier. Mona, that's her. Buckled to the T. The T square.

She cant remembertherecall of . ANd the sideways N in the An . It's some
primitive shape.She's on t.v. in the past. Runnelling and . This mirror
of busted cones. 'Till 3 o'clock in the morning. As the cock
grows! it crows!  Naked she'd lay as the day hearkening to the phonemes
and morphemes of the clitterclutter of her languagetalk. she was tailed
this way then the goingforward. Grasping its tenterhooks. A grasping mouth to
speak for a mile a minute. malarkey malarkey! Run with the rub of its . With the 
tilt of it. Otherwise than that she's  naked buttocks . Cock a smile she's 
round  her head glad.
    Its glowing growing inside .
Not afraid of snobs nor the F.c'errrs  recationarynationals. What's this burr in her finefoot lathered with hair. Cross the mead of her owl like cape (cusp) . Roaring with the blinking. O cahoot! O cahoot! dear  woman loves as no other. O that's the say at its missing hulk.she's worn the grape of everycoat.  Down the plateau poll she go becoming the three virtues percipiendum .  Now take any time she/s run her sword through. Her word was better than. That was its point. Not a sneaky plural insight. Nor to incite its rudder. Or shipping vowels and rules. Nor shopping for her rinse. In the highminded cirty thing to bear on it. A wonder to behold beheld . Her word with us. Gussy demay .A runaround gal of any old day.

Start gain.  Gain fore. Watch hilt.  Go 

Her métier  not her meter huffy. Her peters two around the bridge of love's gulf. A speeding bullet of love's glove. Shall the coat know? what sang language is that. Her gyspy tongue rattling the page of many. Fusing the literal and symbolic but on the plane what could be ordered grasping its symphony. To find at the place at out there in the field as it awareness. She wore roses, velvets, hair flowering, tress flowed. 

If the dumbdum that'd been her first publishhush  knew this, she' been growing over    
 the world's span readier. Reader.

A pleat along the skinny selve ,,  2011.




 Take the   canourous little throats and  short necked nightinglaes ragging out a dingy tune.... nightingale and  finch, linnets with their buzzy little bonnets and the fatuous domesticated canary the usual dawn's daily lark.
    Is  that a lark  Mona primping her hair up bushes pointing pointisettia punk style her busty mouthful hooters to brain the living right balk dead! she's    .... rumptump sexual to the butters...a. little rebel and poor... .

that melody   ~  rilled round the setting sun, lover's glimpse the laconic balcony along the back driven door

A fiche to learn the finch. Clear into space. its reverent reverberating tune    ! . Not reduddant time! fool your beaker's full to the spring lip'
s puffing.
 So hill over hill Jill hearing 'melody' as informed by 'to sing' and chanted her backside lemur to the lover. of the french cantor on the birdcage bridge heard   ~.
 If she comes from Latin it's cause she's two not one. To her becoming ever lover to the sands. of 

      her feast of breast and mouth full lipped the canticle of ripe berries  taste.

__________________ Jill had a name


                      '  a  ragged piece of paper  ...'




 If jill's prolix it's because diction  . And knot. Arboresence. she 's got a desire machi  ~ tried . her back. as the soft  
   O fucked out in the  

                    Jill sees the 'know this' 

                                                                     and  the body dies
                                          hope snapped out

           roped and ripped by powers that strat_____________ not  the smooth arms of the  

arms of 

                  the arms of the molecules write the page of her health



 If jill's prolix it's because diction  . And knot. Arboresence. she 's got a desire machi  ~ tried . her back. as the soft  
   O fucked out in the  

                    Jill sees the 'know this' 

                                                                     and  the body dies
                                          hope snapped out

           roped and ripped by powers that strat_____________ not  the smooth arms of the  

arms of 

                  the arms of the molecules write the page of her health


ahmm: Tabbinet

Its become metafoosed!                   ( she was expecting! what did you expect) she was expecting  ~ .

| _________________________________________ CP You always change things
C.D.  How could I (k)not?    Indeed he does. Her. As she becomes . And left the and out. and moved the russet dissent become the blank. of its perfect binding.! Silly Girl!



We're not certain ...

(Push it down) (will ya?)

Mona hovering. Cantering    ~ and the brings brought boat   ~  ringing tall flowers of the oat song, and its cherished melody.

point and click
 point n shoot  !~  Says Jill firing the emulsion to the twisted photo of herself. Does that maker her a cool per second an operator on the  fringe of calculation?


If words are a harmonious being   does that make  love (and Ivanhoe) a choice?  Being becoming and thrumming and the four drum of keeping time. Signature restoration and  what was the other thing called, named, frightened, beholden, bought, sought, reconnaissanced?


and what was


And Jill knew the wedding of love along the embankments of the revolt fiery flag unfurling
its longing cost to the people of building and love ,, their pain their god their love

and what was the wish but the flag's unkempt rising the hand too calling crying for love's

: and what was

 and it is not your job to spy 
it is your job to watch with love

and accompany the azure  hum of its trying phrase
after phrase the Pharaoh donning
her robes

democratic as the fields
of pleasure

love's leisure
not the scientific measure
of the fasces state

and those

Knowing nothing from their hearts have no glove before the hurt of those who've suffered violence first hand 


Electric knight noun and verb the rub-a-dub and not the succulent flavour
but a break then a  cause an   irruption of the human face over history's sands not
the martyr's cause but the lover's weep her wheat over the 

repeating the field of its god 
and the sand down coming 

and the rocking 

and the

( O ) this god has come to be born over
it's been over to its clover
the hip rag rap of the people coming



bud and bower

Jill: a  SchizioPhrenica wearing a collar. Is it diamond studded or Canadian like the paranoid maniacs who run the world. Fascism was built around the difference between that and which. and them that's willing to stake their lives playing such stakes. aBoolye for them! I stutter the piss guns of the flower moth. kill spiders for rent and hook monkeys for death. Call me Mona Call me true Call me one and two and a  boy like you. Like you Like you. A boy and a girl like you.

Mona's as sincere as only yugly womens can be.and become and the Huglee ones hurting the strange strong beautiful


if this

 If this's been your dictionary what has been your ? handsome twins on the two box shelf? the body felicitate her red arms clung to brown and red as the blue which deepens the sky . Paged to its knight her dawning tie. Tide to its 

Mister: Keep away from 'the' critics. As it becomes ice pattern to your . Skate skype to your sky. A lover to your blocs. Holdign her shoes, tearing her eyes, clamber her hoof. Not mare to her sullen but the 'parent portion to its. Yes, piece of , its , figure of ,, fragment to its , come along then. Remember its call bubble number to its password bitter buttocks to its funeral.

When Adelia died what did you say skirt to its/ She died as . Some might . Not the one close but them that . Stood. by parking lots? O Adelia knew her death was a mighty spoke or maybe it w a s  a sprocket. Clocked to her dying ....not the other Italian fakery to its and her his mama complex.

As for the paranoid schizo s from Romainia and the others from France
hell bound on their boring lesson .

Well dears. 
She's muck to her river sudden.
Plate to their gold.



knows none

  Of its machine Jill knows none. But nones at half dawn . No start      again              given the pauses  ,, you break you ,,

you hold it s time worn ,,

Of her eyes ,  yes, aaaand'a    placing her fingertip there , just at the hollow 
                                                                    of her lip

So Jill tends the breaking 

                            iiiff th 's awkward then its her glance across
                                                               the highway  ~

 won't forgetting

  won't forego