collective text, Friday 13th October

My doll is hiding beneath your bottom and
your arse is playing a game of hide and
seek. That’s nice.
there are no treasures,
there are no mattresses
just as, and in case of
Plastic people talking fibroid spasms
West of The wanda witch the west
Regardless of Iron blocks and mountain laden skys
that fall under grass that’s green and geometry
hike a bandana of diamonds, spittle
and moth wings
while in the obsidian mirror,
the pearls of the past drizzle
past the last taxi home.
Well, my spleen has taken a trip on a spider’s wheels
and rolled about the bountiful cow
until they take forever, before the end of the earthlings’ tribal
wars, before the dense ulterior resolves itself…

A. A. Walker
J. E. Sparkes
M. Chislett
phil the fish
Stuart inman
Philip Kane
Jif

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~ by londonsurrealistgroup on October 13, 2006.

 
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