the rice flails its only man who thinks a flower thinks in truth the word for world is flowersong thinks himself to wondering and round he swings meets himself back on the roads he thought about thinks himself a demigod of a world thats all for him ousts the bees and then complains the hay no longer grows with its deadly cargoes of sin and man-gut-busting agent oranges while apples fade no longer red and round but banana shaped and pears speak latin odio et amo with a soupcon of Scipio and stoic phrase, eat me please you dont know what youre missing, Ill clean your teeth, rot your eyes miss the limbs off all your fresh babes, walk the talk and overtake triffid style, eat you live, inside out, rot your bot, gnaw your brain de-burkha all your women, let them take over, see if they can make a worse hash of life on earth than mans hubris till the soils, thresh the wheat, beat the rice, husk youve left, scattered plastics, from Marianas to the everglades, boas eat the hummingbirds and all besides while ebolas the new cherry glaze woman threshes rice all her days, feeds the babe poisoned by the aluminium in the fluoride haze which once was spring fresh eau you know, gone now a cocktail in a bottle for which you pay twice the price, the oil and paper rice twice again in what it does inside, sorghums re-engineered yellow glows orange and radium flesh the rice flails spin, bashing rice while man sees a weapon cool spins it round and breaks a limb the last olive branch on planet he and the rice and the bees they flail the women can do nought now too late for anything but to wail to beat the rice with nunchaku hope the rains dont fail and feed the children grass and bloody snails
Posted on: Tue, 01 Apr 2014 18:32:11 +0000
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