flying horse mutilation is silent Peter's Bell curve writing in the corsair-satan
oblique, oblique as finial as a two-tusked VARAHA would centrifuge a tiny king with scrofula is thrust up inside a mummy now an ambulance husked w/ paintings the fountain of youth for hood ornament all these things inside her breasts as a factory would display its little Baudelaires knotted as primrose like raceways entering the nostril the flared nostril of 'violent praise' that snort where the air of winter must intrude, a caricature a spiny noduled puppet a leviathan suited in tongues which are people shorn of reason or perhaps just light leaking from everywhere light gets in your glands the salmon changes its body is no longer banked these genitals they saved are thrust up inside a mummy they raise their hands in ecstatic union these genitales of light and sound are thrust up inside a sarcophagi of leviathans a sarcophagi which wears a suit of tongues each tongue a leviathan which goes up inside winter like a long straight coat of homely prose these genitales they saved from the corsair-satan are thrust up inside a leviathan-mummy-tongue-coat & they raise their hands in ecstatic union: 'icogrammatology' like a twin-stomach hieroglyph which dawns like a tone like a steel contour banged by a steel and mumbling head bubbling up from the crowd of tongues fluent in mist and rot and chocolate reindeer it's ghastly but true writing in the corsair-satan oblique, oblique Louis-Charles de Normandie sits on a stool milking the breasts of Marie Antoinette who smokes a long translucent pipe which (being extensive, elastic or telescopic) 'exits' the fine barn climbs a distant mountain and sits happily blinking a dove of the everlasting vulgate* *usually depicted as 'going before' the tsunami of green lava which represents the collective transformations of deep time in certain fictional ukiyo-e works, and the head of which is usually depicted as that of a gently smoking pipe
