hatstuck snarl

theoretically, a hairstyling salon


Here follows a poem Monica and I collaborated upon, alternating lines corpse style knowing only the end word of the previous lines and those lines we'd written ourselves. In other words, half the text was missing only to come together for each of us last night. It's all been very much fun and we like the results. Now we get to tinker-

I find in the back of my throat strange
goulashes sashay bang haggle bang broker
counting cash in a swimming pool basin
in which the cat pretends
the pillows are gray with age
what’s that the handle borders cranky
arteries chug along, swimming and snapping
it up, or simply, please, disappear
like a sestina ordering my life’s components
afternoons and evenings tumble in turn
I have neglected you and loved poems I have neglected poems and loved light
logic’s slow poison and I would like to stop
staring at my painted toenails
curl only to click as he shuffles over the linoleum
crapout, can I keep pulling shit from the sky?
nothing so heavy fluff woven those shingles aflap on that roof
top pull oh-ver-(sion) to language poetry
blue frankly loosen inflamed parakeets
have blue plumage or red what
was meant by the head wrench, the vague retort
when birds begin to alight in my bathtub
wherein I yellow and for a moment blinded by
my pass
another pepper pappy
aardvarks and antelope lead me to purple
pluperfect, a radiator which leaked and lost pressure, popped
my eyeballs like my bottom teeth
clacking ratchet, a pitch precise drill, under the lumber and hunkers
behind the cargo of the brothers Wright
come up a rung, he isn’t a fletcher, yet armed with one arrow
root, a herbaceous tropical perrenial plant with a creeping
cross the skeptic facade, while any other monkey snoops
around the age of Christ’s crucifixion
under any circumstance, a spastic cynic
only when at work
wanders intoning some circumspect squelch
ing participles on a thick gravel
kingdom of culture on flat me gander
marmalade hysteria
when she left her wallet at the service station
in a life that seems to be a stagnant hook on my left
building come hustle smart shopper smart shoppers mine squat slit and saunter
split quick up my cuntass right
minded urgency to acquire improper paraphernalia magnifies in due
not to return to the point of contact
every known noodle this everyone split shop up hustle rest do needle down
with fig trees, autumn lush, and
noodle eaten stare pop over steam rice no bother skewed squatter
stationed at the orange precipice
fisher discus corn shirts genetically engineered wrestler dies an assistant
to the end
nothing here but us and others and some funky weaver
of the dead
sailing anyway along and unlike anything
you seem to write, regardless, it makes me enjamb
by your ratio of apples to eggs I race
most people do not picture fish loaded
with a leg of retro applesauce
for starters, and a splinter stick sandwich to jack
off and flip my automobile to rewind
so bogus brought luggage come in to confusion
is true, and although I may not know much about Mexico
take none mend composition and fierce quality fop umber bum fraudulent graft
the skin back to my fine pink slit
and all we occupies a preeminent brick
bat straight from my
wandering must follow a watchword and flounder
smell best soaped up and then fried by an electric pinball
but of course, the accused must dispute the charge
account meltdown like a voluptuous
puddle paddy whack, gamble on a bone
drenched and tied to the sweet haste of black licorice
chowder, a prelude to fluid a rumor
has it that you and I are on the run


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