Robert Chrysler
Dadagram #11
this creation disarray postulates to carry
an ideal waxing, viral,
sputtering, arrogant blank proviso taxed,
providing cosmically atop
ceaseless praying, storms wavered visceral
organics throughout our
harness cheeks pink and slaughtering
animals on the angular steps
of the real.
operatic theater bones, gristle being the
last rhythmic icon
inviting solace that without manifesting
peddles old wounds,
forgetting its buoyancy to break crates
flower in the rays of the
wicked procreating channel sleeping amidst
editing and flaming,
idiotic chorales felt through wind-swept
repetition glitched errors
crafting psyche.
made mistakes along not travelling
upon work gossip clocked
at beef around passes over ricocheted prose
torn from dead hands.
circulating, cycled then to situate can be strong indents,
irises
for sale reliance mounts our passivity
flying two wisps of array
sung red and clotting.
reading kisses fire potentially abrogating a mercurial stipulation
referencing a last name, noumenon a flailing child's plausible cascade
vents per equaton
targeted like frozen hegemony, a wondrous slab of meat.
allegorically full and complete arched a
bit, so-called as pondering the
rites injecting charcoal democracy
swallowed about libertarianism interns
aggregating domain minds yawning agape with
stolen fuel deposits hidden,
grateful, promising salvation.
Rot
of Form
Rot of form.
Animals and instruments disintegrate
the slime of creation, a world of metaphor
that
harbours swallows' nests and corpse-white lizards.
Totality tattoed
places where men go about
their lives gnawing metal at the bottom of
a glass.
Aerial frequencies grin.
The borderland slowly launched time as
linearity out
of the whole fauna of human fantasies, the
marine vegetation
inhabited by a divinity. Volume's
light lulled angels to sleep.
Constantly shifting meat-hook prayers
fractured collective marks of I and I, a flaccid praxis
growing in reflection. Punctuated rust fell
from equations of glass, always
a deviant gesture. Philosophy, linguistics
are capable of revealing secret motives, modern
light becoming the nuts and bolts shown
beneath a lifted skirt.
The six in our sin
boarding unformed genitals,
promising a world of new wonders.
Surfaces bounce arbitrarily and section
analysis citation rays
converging beyond structural basalt tasting
of mace allow periods
to pierce the context of sense-data. Forget
the characteristics
of certainty. A chill, imperious
exhilaration dipping
money in oil without any fear of patches of
radiance, flashes
of light not yet stripped of their furs,
brilliant, restless mysteries gone to each
one.
Intake:
One
...the overthick
night threaded with dour jewels,
exclusive and divine. Rusty
clocks battering her
sallow, pocked skin. Televised innuendo scraped ravines of truth sitting
in silence.
Put up against a dilapidated red-brick
wall, marron nails
blazing love through dense, acrid air, wet
lips smiling wanly
every now and then.
The ambience: vitrified, no longer
responding to external stimuli.
Singular Qabalistic
embroidery etched itself on barley-blonde hair,
sending laced psyches slamming into market
violence. Holes in black
leather pants syncopating the various agendas of the beat. Like carcass.
The roar of traffic gambled away the
rawness of rusted spoons, magnificent
beads of bliss. Her only response was to
weep golden ostrich feathers.
...an exotic addition to any cherished
collection.
Her voice turned nodes of capital to dust.
Labyrinthine code gilded her every step
into reality.
where she regularly sang fever-dreams into
nullity,
coffin voidness
in the mazes of the city.
Laughing flesh is digital.
Robert
Chrysler is an inspired
subway-ranter from