The Body, on Home, to Pummel the Sum [Calabrian Lullaby]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I Don't See the Issue, Sir. It's Simple: You Just Turn to Face & go After that Motherfucker with a Vengeance without looking to the Back" - Boris Izsus

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The Body, on Home, Pounds out an Echo of its Self, prejudicing out a Bulled Reflection---->Thus Home thus & Age as thō, a Rotten Form of Candy, backwashed the Body to the Back of the Stage, stacked---->in which you Lost Thee in the Street, in which you attempt to rectify this Drizzle of the Self in the Morning---->but it is in which Thee that you are Shaggy, in which Thee that you are a Dog, in which Thee that you are Damaging & in which Thee you are so surely Damned & in which Thee you are My Little Dum-Dum---->which is the Tissue at Heart: the Smear, Hook & Fingertips Dirty with all your Senses now Gone, were never so much Hailed, were never so much Adorned, when in their Balance—[ing] the Body now against the Vision of a Casket of these non-sequiturs which Burden or, Please me here in my Socks in the Waste of Adolescence when it still Hurt to be Laid, when it still Hurt to be Facing a Percentage of the Hand that repeatedly Bled off the Food---->& you remember that you were once Blessed in some cuckold Rendition of the Family Faith, which was a Habit, Hermitting the Mind in the Redistributions of the Seats along your Bloodline’s real pew---->which Fumbled Across the Eyes which were then Plucked from the Socketlock. But now, here you Stand in some Mama’s Echo, Accentuating the Scale of Breath, breathing in some Distant Hollow—[ing] thud or, The Glass Skin, Grassed up/in this Tiny Sloming you on Home, Gassed---->Yes, most likely I’m right, Over There, sledding over the Rats which Feast along the Streets where I Rove, fluctuating now, this Night seems so Endless & yet they never are & never were Endless this Life is to be my Sillysilly End---->& look now across The Field in that Alley up & Above to the Cracked the Window Opens to the Burbling Light which is my lifelusting, which is mine Fucking Alone, in a Tone of Spasming what is Thought secretly within these Walls, which is a Shifting Logic upon whom we have told & yet as is, as was & is to be a wassing is was---->was all fucking Destroyed what was, what is & isis Produced in the Trauma of these Hands---->Thus in Time, such a Sour Customer I’ve become, ironing out the Poorest Stench of you & the Dung moving in the Mouth to Pucker Up close to this One Felt, felt the Remaining Absent from the Room, that we Gather from the Extra Notch in the Belt & The Bitch of a Sentimental Yell, yammering on in Cases of Dividing our Bodies at the Waste struggling to Erupt out the Dead which would Ruin my Pretty Little Lashes, would Ruin my Piety stationed at the Time of our Falls in Sleep would Ruin The Great Collapse of the Congested Clowns—[ing] burning at the Ribs spared from The Ruination of Paralyzing The Lonely who run because they’ve never known a Hidden Moment to the Self or,---->The Lonely whose Yellow-Bellies, would Ruin & maintain the Heavy Sanction under the Feet, Fucked & there go the Sad Lovers climbing upon the iceice, which Slips with each Step with each, Baby we’re almost there, like The Cinema Pairs the Final Powdering Last this, exclusion is a Wintery form of a Bastard who Giveth & Taketh away---->In which, I observed my little one absent, in mind scrutinized by the Wav[err]ing Crowds & in this rearing View, I Roared, roaming to attempt to seethe an anything out, in the Bush of the Sung, or whether that Flock of Black Birds above my Head formed of Wood & Blood would Trust me the Distance, on Home---->Which Faces: Them Now—[us] Holding ‘em Down, at Night touching Heads & now off with The Head, Sums up this Joke just Fine—[ily] crashing the Snickering Some to Pound the sum to the Pummel the some of Palavering or, perhaps it is The Meat that Shakes us down from our Tiny Core to the more systematic collapsing gnash of sight---->in which we Crash in/upon the great biting bitch of life transforming The Temptations to a Building the Beginning of the Gruel to Soldiering the Mistakes in/on in, like the Tasty Steak we surely Crammed in to Lull our Little One now in Sin raging in the Echo of a Genetic Index—[es] how Lanky we had Become in the Coming Months & the Jug of Fog that Swelled in our Hearts, Sweltering in a Private we Box---->& how now: you thought to Drown it all Out along with The Corpse, Shuddering in the Balcony---->But all you care to think about now, is the Terrifying Fact of the Rumbling Bodies of a Thousand that are gaining on, your on Home, Door---->which sounds like a Dire Song, which sounds a lot like:

La-La-La—La-La—La

A Method of Falling [The Body in Recatoom]

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"Longing for the Doldrums in the dirtydirty Dawn" - Boris Izsus

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The Body pressed to the Pavement in the Steps to Suppress---->I’ll eventually align the Sweeps & Inner Dialogue, between each Empty Foul, from tete-e-tete to nothing at all ---->From the South, the Trains look Queasy in my Eyes & in this Little Skin, I feels like Evening, like I’m Dusking on this Real Press[nin] Operation of the body’s judgment, which I reckon was what the Doctor’s whisper to the Self in Duress which began this Mess---->in which, we are left with this Desert after visualizing Summer each Month & the Edible Few, The Few who could not satisfy the Thought of Eating ourselves Frigid under the Covers in June---->no, it’s that Violent Eddy of the Storm again above our Heads which Towers in the Ear turning in the Bowl our Indiscretion---->which Towers in the Mouth, through the Weight upon my Chest, through the through this Terror: that in the Decades to follow, there shall be no one, no one shall be Here to Answer my Calls---->& Baby, the Wreckage of this Month, the Sun became very Hot & the Streets appeared to Blister & Lift to my Yawl & I could have sworn from my Window in Sweat, through the Blinds in Sweat, I peered a Man in Sweat singing in a Crumbling Room in Sweat, Violently wiping his Forehead with his Child’s Latent Smile in Sweat---->But no, no one wants to Topple the City like this, in which you Swear, is the Good Lot, is the Tender Spasm from Youth, in the Falls of the Alleys, behind which Muscle to this Day to Bushel you over---->Which begins the Falls again, against The Latrine of the Body, framing itself Flushed through the Past, the Bullshit of your Benevolent Years that were formed not by Force, nor The Folding Horizon in the Pocket, but of Bullshit---->& it takes Bullshit to say: Two Naked Bodies provide Delay in the Decayed Belly of a Black Bird grew into the Hellish Bitch of Another---->which explains how sometimes this Life is so Stiff on the Wrong Side of Town in which you dream of Withering the Wrinkling of a Shitstained Laundry which was every Face in which you Passed, which was every Lip you did Lock, which was every Smile you squeezed in your Fist to Dust in those Benevolent Years, which was every Exchange along the Rough-Hewn Features of the Forlorn Storm Swarms in your Tummy do Down---->thus, does a tumbling down do to you do this to you: within the Directions you have kept so close to Jaw & Heart, My Friend there is no Return---->thus this attempt at a Somnambulistic Escape & yet our History is such that we Touch Nose to Nose, at the Edge of the Dried Lake, Blinded & Licking all Directions---->Which is how you learned to become a Man, if only still just a Flyman, pulling your Body past the Burden of Noon dangling upon the Bizarre Slippings of the Woman in June & tell me Ma how we got the Blues Again & this Tightening in the Ears[tight] as always Signals the beginning again of The Fall into our Own Seductive Lives got Played at the Hands of The Little Fucking Playthings---->& that Chin that nestled in my Hair “I Got your Bones” bounds me in a familiar Stench of this Body turning itself onto Itself in which I eventually would give in to the Scream, give in to the Clutterjaw & End as Ashes swung Wide against the Great Field---->in which The Man was now Gathering, fitting his Body into the Graphs of the Pavement just so, so just The Head was severedleft simmering under the Sun, with his One Good Eye upon us All---->& We Shook in this Gaze in which I heard a Great Whimper in which I heard The Clusters of the Past Frozen City crushing underfoot---->in which I heard “I will eventually give in” & scrub the Blood from our Door which buckled My Body back, backed into it’s Proper Place, which was a Bodybore---->which was a Dream & all this fucking Dreaming sutures across The Whole Wide Gape of the City, in every Turn marks a Ghost Map, a Ghost Past where ghostthoughts Shuttle away in the Shuffling, the way Ghost surely do---->Meanwhile I was Puffing again & Wheezing again & Laughing again & fucking again in the Nature of Doubt which had not End, had not a Face, had not a not, in the gathering us Down in the Hold of this Sheet, which Covers our Head & then Our Bodies in a Whole, in a Moss Embrace in a Giggle, in a Thunder, in which we Spoke---->in which we Spoke in Private Chin to Chin, under the Strain of Stairs my Little Little Chin Chin, about the Root of the Problem at Hearts itself to this Heart Mark: Baby, There never was enough fucking Blood on our Hands & how our Eyes did then Close.

Ol' 55 (4 and 1/2 Variations)

for J'vora

i.

trucks,
Stars place.

And had alive.

Now a-wishing quickly, my holy, to you old went cars me, coming up, to God no I'd I flashing,
I'm Luck, riding all beginning my a-wishing my now I'm knows, longer,
Oh, way sun's out '55
As trucks, Lady Lord, way.
Well feeling's God freeway let was from feeling trucks... and went Luck, I'd I up, I knows, getting let there's and with feeling the little I'm my Lord, time freeway and stronger.

And on parade
Just Lady to the on stayed a cars it's I so lickety-splickly I'm drove parade
Just so and with trucks,
Stars the the my little I morning, fade, trucks, tell coming me sun's that and I a-passing '55
As home Luck,
Freeway away getting freeway cars six I feeling quickly, warning; so slowly, was in cars lickety-splickly lights time riding slowly, freeway and stayed out old trucks I the the sun's feeling went to away the alive.

Now a be me beginning went lead and all you to holy, are pulled and with Well lead longer,
Oh, your cars so tell fade, the riding my stronger.

And that feeling's the me Lady up, coming gave I

ii.

I the with fade, my and so to in to stayed coming '55
As flashing,
I'm I and getting I'm to Well the old that holy, my freeway beginning the a-passing away to I'd parade
Just I sun's a alive.

Now longer,
Oh, trucks stronger.

And warning; so up, Lady gave let coming time on went the from trucks, my time me, lickety-splickly Lord, I lead I and I six feeling Luck, my and Luck, let so Lady up, feeling's a-wishing I'd and had be so feeling's my the Lord, tell freeway out I'm beginning lights longer,
Oh, little riding went me lead morning, riding your stayed God I to slowly, knows, went coming pulled I sun's was a-wishing '55
As cars quickly, God and I feeling Lady with trucks, me tell you and parade
Just drove quickly, cars it's with on are away little stronger.

And freeway cars I'm you up, now all lickety-splickly alive.

Now riding cars old my out way.
Well all getting sun's feeling and Luck,
Freeway holy, the trucks... slowly, that no trucks,
Stars cars me there's went way was feeling the knows, place.

And freeway fade, the home the a trucks,
Stars

iii.

up, I from let freeway the trucks,
Stars out stronger.

And sun's trucks... my my I'd my the parade
Just with knows, '55
As in way longer,
Oh, drove had so I'm on freeway quickly, longer,
Oh, to time are coming now with away I holy, Luck, went your there's Lady with it's went I me, I holy, be and feeling beginning old place.

And the slowly, I knows, up, slowly, old all feeling's freeway time all a-wishing that to I'm coming cars the you went little God Luck,
Freeway tell I fade, to beginning you me lickety-splickly and alive.

Now a '55
As trucks, stayed a coming way.
Well trucks a-passing and getting feeling trucks,
Stars so Lord, was up, cars let so Lord, lead sun's so me riding feeling's and and to stronger.

And no I'd the lead and a-wishing my home out the flashing,
I'm quickly, my feeling the Well getting me my trucks, feeling stayed six I went cars riding was little tell and to Lady I gave Lady riding pulled the on freeway cars warning; lights sun's and morning, parade
Just alive.

Now I'm that lickety-splickly I away the fade, Luck, cars, God

iv.

I a parade

Just the a-wishing and away place.

And I there's to went and '55

As God with trucks... I up, feeling in no went with holy, me quickly, are with holy, feeling Luck, warning; my lickety-splickly trucks, freeway tell on Lord, all cars the be away I'm let so so stronger.

And slowly, me and beginning beginning had it's freeway I a on a-passing way and Lady Lady you '55

As getting cars sun's you sun's slowly, Luck, cars knows, longer,

Oh, flashing,

I'm quickly, trucks,

Stars my the stayed longer,

Oh, lickety-splickly fade, my drove home and feeling Lord, and was the my went I'd and the was parade

Just feeling's I the little all six coming I'm went trucks alive.

Now I'm little to your Luck,

Freeway God out freeway so I me riding my old I a-wishing up, that knows, from my stayed morning, alive.

Now old I'd up, trucks,

Stars feeling's freeway tell coming I to Lady riding stronger.

And the me, trucks, the time fade, out let way.

Well feeling coming and lead to that pulled gave so lead sun's Well time getting now riding lights cars, to cars I the

iv.v.

had Lady the my to your Luck,

Freeway so on was feeling feeling holy, fade, to you holy, and out six '55

As sun's coming in a now and and riding lights God so flashing,.

Well the and to away the me that cars from I the alive.

And Luck, the and and '55

As quickly, away me Lady cars longer,

Oh, lead longer,

Oh, trucks, knows, alive.

Now lickety-splickly stronger.

And up, knows, I went time feeling's the parade

Just I are drove all morning, my I pulled I so feeling getting freeway I freeway so was that went cars, and me, cars lickety-splickly I all fade, my sun's I'm home gave little my beginning time warning;

Just riding riding the slowly, stronger.

Often Troublesome [An Opera as Lullaby as The Body in Recatoom]

“Oh don’t you see? I love so much, so much”—Yahtzee Mitzsugurshi

“Thus, Everything which Remains, remains to be a soon-to-be Figure of the Subject to Destruction” – Boris Izsus

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at Home against

the Artifice often

troublesome | bending having been so------------->soso

dizzy so------------>is so retro so—as one of a------------------->so wait

this is relativity—[?] no it’s relative—[ily]

a thumping

complacent—[ily] Dumping a

stitching,

could—‘ve

the

should—‘veve

learned the last think—[ing]----------------->I’m

bodypeek—[ing]—[~!]--------------------->I hear—[ēd]—Said:

((((I’m peaking~!))))

lastnight’s

do—de—do

was last night’s Dull Song Gone By--------------------->wrapping in a Corollary have like

shit my sublimation just embolism

[…]

Remember:

could’ve swallowed a Breath above, that last bit

heard a Friend

wanders in this Head or-------------------------------->many we have been then, my Friend—[ily]

[…]

was that a crock of shit—[?]

well it both, it’it’d snowed &

The Sun shone

on my

Cheek

falling

by—[?]

From the throat I

kept it close & my Baby’s

vocal wheeze—

[ing] on, on girl’s

lip—[ily] Stick, my Face

on it as if, closing upon

things

like Genet & much

like the collar lot that little to do his had to do

I’d sav’d:

“The Body I’m

under

is justis dreaming is”----------------->Dreaming of better Days, Dreaming---------------------->is thisises:

“Can you hold in my Hand in this / this is my Tiny Room is”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Theory of which, Bores the Shit & we’ve killed many Children since then in the South Bound Down

of the Curbed being, or why is my Body Being a Bitch is—[?], the

Song in which found Myself, I did Ground, yet

how Immense

my Song Rose when I awaken—[ing] to

Clop n’ Chomp—[ēd], the

[…]

See, Mine “em” is a con—flicts, the completes me “em” in your Gaze often

Wanders, riddled “em” in Throat “em”, curdled in Desire “em” thus “em” Sometimes

“em” Arises—“em”—[ily] “em” to

Shove

“em”

the

Fuck

Down

the

Stairs

[…]

But instead we just Swallowed often,

Map—[ed]—[ing] it all at Hand

to, Dull the now through—The Crew[d]s

‘nd

The Thing of it, froths—th’fumbling & this Friend was

off’d ceasing below the Clouds so Full so barely

becomes the Envy of Construction.

[…]

They often Collapse, straight down the Gutter

skin’in’in’skin’in’in to sink’in’in to sink’in’in

sink’in’in to sink’in’in skin’in’in’skin’in’in to

skin’in’in’skin’in’in to sink’in’in to sink’in’in

sink’in’in to sink’in’in skin’in’in’skin’in’in to:

n’all’em’meant:

Baby, I’m just Amorous

in the weep | ing | [hour]—[ing] ought not to not fess the fuck it up,

confessing this mastering---------->the displacement I meant

facement

[i said i meant facement~!]

O’haha the ahh’s

O’haha the ahh’s

The Ahh’s, as it is I have chased “em” all

together actually been

gutter…or:

Just Brighter:

Back the things back then never thinks about------>”our remains ago, were so long ago”

our remains ago, were so long ago

were so long ago, our remains ago

our remains ago, were so long ago

were so long ago, our remains ago

our remains ago, were so long ago

were so long ago, our remains ago

our remains ago, were so long ago

were so long ago, our remains ago

How young we were down—[ing] it

all just Before, we before we------------>[trumpeted]—our Forming in to Abstraction

‘nd’ve‘nd’ve‘nd’ve‘nd’ve

‘nd’ve‘nd’ve‘nd’ve‘nd’ve

‘nd’ve‘nd’ve‘nd’ve‘nd’ve

‘nd’ve‘nd’ve‘nd’ve‘nd’ve

shoulda’ve—[~!] woulda’ve—[~!] coulda’ve—[~!]

The All to the Then------------>my Little Brick-a-Brack

bigger a Bitch

now then in past Years was &

“ _____”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

O’

I meant

nothing

[nothing]

by this

while slyly

gazing

behind

The Eyes

of a Shy

Crustacean

seemed all so Futile, somewhere You’d seen the bit about the bit | ing the Biting nonsense

& ordinary—[ily]

I’m Straight ON complicated—[ing] the Whole Construction—[ing]

of my Structure’s Gullet forming

a few Decades ago

the Hoopla remain—[ing] Buried!

soso Buried

that it may—[ily]—[been]—[ily]

A feel it were Our Catastrophe ‘ve Bomb—[ed] out the Speech only

Heard in the Insatiable Stutterer of Better Times

O’

O’ Mortimur, truly the Words are Morphing in with

me: the

Tiniest Reductionism to the Flatulence

pursuing me in a Dogged Delight

in Belly be:

do—de—do~!

do—de—do~!

do—de—do~!

do—de—do~!

[…]

Guess we just ism the way we just

ism just ism could’ve done it all

perfectly this Time, in Ebb but then

I then Collapsed—[ing]

[but if we

can all Jump

a bit higher

over thisin

Body

th’Storm ‘ll

prob’ly pass

right over

our Heads

Hover

however

the covers

of the Other’s

never quite reach’d]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

& in my Dreams, there went The Storm, somehow I’m

floating facefirst so slowly so

soso slowly tho

this Attempt was

personal in Advancement

to a stilled & [insert] the Hurt holding

me feverfaced OF

The Carnage before Mine Eyes

& AH~! HAHA~!

& AH~! HAHA~!

drooly I

spent on the Wings of my Carrier Pigeon, rubbing out

an ism isming my

Kong Dong looks so

lonelyfaced

Left in displacement

lingering with Balls pair ‘ed

tucked in Thy Belly Tickled till Thee Shall Arrive

[…]

& Arrive Thee Shall in the Spoon

raised, to the Lips

I met upon my

Chewing lips

meant, quite another thing, we to go we’d in a Storm caught

the Glare of the Road ahead, as I vacuumed down my

goes my Dinner Down & goes

A life, Down

A possibility, Down

A ruination, Down

A tickled Down, to

mymymy it’s never OFOF

“it’s th’Ear”

Oh—mymymy

now again

Oh—mymymy

[…]

Drown—[ing] in them days we Drowning them

Better days

that you Spent sipping Soda on, chain on, licked on, The Fence on& Field on beyond ‘nd

Ironed Hearts were the Gist:

The Girl

with the

Patch of

Grass

Burns

you

Loved

~~~~~~~~~~~

O’ now Sir, surely

you to Crawl to me surely, in Chorus we

‘ve learned all we’ve

Could muster in these

Days of the Summer’s High Breeze ‘nd

surely, Sir:

de Sign | of the | Foot | permeates

in open | Breathe—[ed] this | Structure to Desire

a Respite | Quadrants coupled to

ah~! a good ol’ Fashioned Phraseology

&& the Sobs stop’d the Bless—[ed]

overtly / inept

now Thee

“Body Tugged to the Ground over There, I Fell—[ed] Down, I Did”

said Quote & Unquote

Unquote & Quote:

“Faceitude”

Quote th’ Glib to

Quote & Unquote

[…]

My Bubble Baby often Chirping the Personal Pantomime

Harrumph~!

& of by this & of by this & of this Pulling this here Root in the Ground

by the Neck, exposed

we’re now Recoiling to

Thy Beauty of Thy Crookedness—[ing] Thy—[ily]

“crooked—[?]”

O’ It is just Thy passing to Build

however

there is this, is the most Important Bit is this:

“_______________”—“_________ __ ___________”—“_____, __________~! _____; _______;______?”

“_____”—“______ , ______ , ________ [ ______ ]”—“____”—“________~!~! _______ | ______ | _______ ”

“_____________ ; ______ , _______”—“_______”—“____~!”—“_________,________ — ______.”—“_____

_________,”—“_____________ , _____ | _____ | _________~?”—“__________ : ________ ; ______, ______”

“_______(( ~ ))________”—“________ , ____ / ____~?”—“____[ ]___ , ____ [~ ~]____~!”

“_______(( ~ ))________”—“________ , ____ / ____~?”—“____[ ]___ , ____ [~ ~]____~!”

_________,”—“_____________ , _____ | _____ | _________~?”—“__________ : ________ ; ______, ______”

“_____________ ; ______ , _______”—“_______”—“____~!”—“_________,________ — ______.”—“_____

“_____”—“______ , ______ , ________ [ ______ ]”—“____”—“________~!~! _______ | ______ | _______ ”

“_______________”—“_________ __ ___________”—“_____, __________~! _____; _______;______?”

quote unquote~!

[…]

Thus, better Crushing up the______, damn, can this not this is not How to be the

master of body

Fragments can’t O’

this is how I

dance is—[ily]

The Crushing quite better

than Clutching the Sallow of

Better Days

Baby, you’ve

just wake—[end]

Dreaming of Our

Envious was just

Our Better Days