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dailyobscurant
The Daily Obscurant: the scat-poet's musing/:upturned-forward-leaning garbage
 
#
painted frontiers (or/: at levi)
dumb tuckers
tuckers-in-pants with single missed wavy cloth
sure fonted
generous exotic talks
spill and laugh-over and wrap
how is it these shakers play-on soft-headed phobics,?
made of what?
lazy gentles making rougher shapes of them,
loose, loose
loose jeans
sublte alt'd cowboys
with-those indie hair frauds,
secret those spurrs
and the trample-gangs won't come off
and show yous-yours
the two-fraud
loose loose jeans
runny speckled captures
can't be undated
and leave frontiers,front-- soft-captain
and the discovering to axe-handed ex-men.
you loose loose jeans
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#
chatily-kathie/... at Kathryn


tiny-eyed blame cousin
microscopic dynamics in-for yous
what thimble technē
i pitty only hush sale and thought-givens
and if i might in sore such-lights
i'd pouch them
locked under the aches of a heel
and masquerade brightly over rivers of misuse!

-sp.

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#
broken editor
from the misleads of giant white-blacked over-so-silly characters
the hidden vase
beneath alls there and the babylonian sexed-pot
but joy
out from there
a truce and commons
a miserable chauvinist truce!

off-put the uncharmed face-cheek parody
and we will whatever dress


truer characters blacken the teeth
lets fuck-- you editor

leave your device
and we'll machine the buttery night
without myth
without spoil
without itself.





-sp.
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#
cherry red paper fire.
her cares
finds the man in things
            and tiny licensed husbands amiss great portions of lifed nouns
twitchy short boys
and small lists 
the harry second
sure lime reasons die the kill for such poor sport

freckled red traffic
the cherry bitten thigh
fire spades and chewed arson 
all down along ward--
                                        the charcoal air.

sp

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#
lalangue feminin

girl

         shit         

Talk

talk shit girl girl shit shit talk girl
talk girl
shit girl talk talk girl shit talk girl girl
shit talk shirt
girl talk girl

talk. 

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#
lalangue feminin

girl

         shit         

Talk

talk shit girl girl shit shit talk girl
talk girl
shit girl talk talk girl shit talk girl girl
shit talk shirt
girl talk girl

talk. 

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#
logic and k<>navery (or:/ dream logic)


høw goes flows for chocolate logics

and wafer intellection?

when internment shatters palate to brade the air and can'ts' the whisper-shame

the Idea needs glassy sweetful appearances 

each petty convocation bounds with class shoe-gears

and horse hair brushes

the inky internment cannot fail attention

who is clapping?

remarkable foodies charm at oneanothers foot-stem

aand the bastard roots turn-up themselves to clothe origins in topmost dirt

O' deracinated youths

yous up-charmers 

only from without-- do robes transfigure to late waste

and descalized bye-gones

and the gone-ing is its unbraiding

and chocolate logos(ics) to/for shit

                                                     lousy K<> nave (al)

sp

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#
Answer:

the words bend for me

you funny edits.

sp

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#
jeers this tuesday

says

jeers for tuesday

its came 

the lunch-lovely 

came to me 

                    pointing

and sharp dilenquents try me over ham

                                                      and late dry whisky

they chose me for my afters

scheming toodlers ploding footies and the knife of hand

i past them slight-easy

and shoot jeers at tuesday

this lazy something two-day three.

sp

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#
Backish short dues & gives without com-punction

standing ahead it seems the short drafts allow themselves to low leave and surest light after ten admonishions and bagel halves and to that they byebye selfs and the chubby treason last to as long the day and hate in apollianare demostrations and they parade their fictions with brass tune forks that haven't the chance to work because they cant and recant and sellbye hairs for them whom spoutspit water from halfsides the egohole they the founders of two pointed wits answer me the tinsel you tinsel justify yous self as sush selves and mores and lay and finish when is it it canmay finish these poor imp fictions fictionate until someone fallfail at the ugly failed manstate go from me and cancel back beer foam cheekears and cancel me i havent chances chanced chancyALEATORIC

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#
the arm('s) day/olds
too) short curly labor to

the hands 

the nervy pair leave off high hat and push beds and 
nape and that
bricks over brinks 
the lead-headed
                   and muscle morsels 
and cherries tree hands over knee
the purple brink shares itself to light and soap and the days' murder
the hairy slats fold from nigh knife
 and pressed nave and
sallow infirm troughs 
       the harried slats fall up

              and how manages the day?

the wresters 
the knotted slats

         simply upbuild a front
pink to white facade
fail to contain each whirring spine

                                                       for you there to sit in them. 
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#
ntralowcueshun
daisy loquacity 
    this
         daisy chain
it fails away
                 -with tensor 
to rhythm
rhythmata 
                 eurythmy
syntagm 
           safeless sex the syntagm
                     folds away
                      the genre cuffs 
     and flirty fare+way
                                 And
hand-holds the beatnik 
space  and faceful rifts 
and trades trade
                          those whore grammarians.
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#
the the

The Scat-Poet is the Slow Poet and back... 

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#
of worst kinds there's them

when whip tongues and pointy commas come to rival these mingy shores and pier shins, i've tried to hold them sweet put-downs, and gum the lemon wedges with big tease and ordered eyes that left impressions home for broke, why the screams stuck in the throat, even false promise shine circles over rock candy, even the hot steam heavies the hand, but if i had sets-down (nomos) and the toughs watched foot in-front them then your brief that single brief you've had, i'd enjoin yours to mine and back, and leave those before set down with torn looks to secret.  

 

*slow Poet

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#
stuff in [[the land of women]]
here i'll write you/ here so see this meal it comes-on/ how the shares spit in your eyes/ you told me it likes too/ you sit on convention/ you laugh sorely/ and then/ we wring the sky and tease the left whores that wear blood-color and hang-over the bitter dim light/ but does she?/ has she desires of mine?/ if i could tell/ i'd marry inclinations/ and baby big inconsequence.
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#
the dramaturge

on the dole, we're, 

me on rave, tirade cement-heads and sentiment

rave on me, one lunar-tic

a show-gun

a nordic fish, 

sit the slouch on tragic shoulders

and waggle heartily at the stuff of chins 

and shoes to match

and high wholes

hidden oh you hidden potted plant.

 

 

 

]splooewt[

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#
of worst kinds there's them

when whip tongues and pointy commas come to rival these mingy shores and pier shins, i've tried to hold them sweet put-downs, and gum the lemon wedges with big tease and ordered eyes that left impressions home for broke, why the screams stuck in the throat, even false promise shine circles over rock candy, even the hot steam heavies the hand, but if i had sets-down (nomos) and the toughs watched foot in-front them then your brief that single brief you've had, i'd enjoin yours to mine and back, and leave those before set down with torn looks to secret.  

 

*slow Poet

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#
Rope and Lace

what funny grea-test op-por-tunity binds frill with shutters square and horse-race histrionics, the chatty capitains rump-fed and true brazen/ how is it to place shank over hills and vertebrae??/ even your shoes haven't the soles/ you take charity and call some vertebration/ if cutting what binds you calls it liberations then consider me despotic!/ and old-ways ward/ it paints me intervenient/ it labors shovel fills to the top of the mouth/ it things me in-res/ are you the matte or the organ? organ-is'ma/ the touch of short blank orgasm/ is this what organ-izes you that you should shovel forces/ or contain? what rope consecrates if not twos sacared heart? the time is little when lace can reserve me/ fortify me or for-get...

 

unfinished; SP contravention  

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#
Tiny womens/ the womean

finger hosiery match such little labels with petty grace, the junior anomy scoop left of the mash hate portals in the afternoon, the grub, delicate in their time, pause awe and hair lengths for they trick to come into palm and hold the try of silken sting and and and, these poor for-tune-ates sit near and puts breath on the necks, and harries gems of small likeness, piss portions who fickle fun in the shakes of wristsdon't share with me plebeian!shrink womean, face nimble makes you plebshare only off yourtwilight!

 

(slow poet)

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