KSR: Kitchen Sweat Renaissance

For pucks sake, fly agaric and the knu chou dynasty
Tzou not 2u.
Chuang sang praises, [Crustaceous wedge
of sweaty kitchens on a rock
overcreamtopping thrusts of Oursea gonznoizzation]
might have approved off this dubble glazing,
this washup and away (shored)
Into a nativity play

with Foxhousemptemtress and Horsepower
industree and
Dune-cow dung shroomi engineers >
and devil-footed Goatz dressed lyk Jesuspectickls twin dubbly metro pollybutton wumbtea bus driver larking wyford skyvers guide > snakes were absent, Chuang Tzu’s nativity seen and not scene. Xtianitea and poetry brewed with Amanita Muscaria, not to scare ya buttercup ploppillions [moon on the palm leaf – confusion] as a vehicle for older Ogham b’ b’ b’ berm > b’ Ohghammersmithyliqua poetry inside over and underproduction > a bezerk in progress. Virosa Phalloides and Death cap mushrooms prattle shouler be using more often, Xtianity and poetry need a bit of glue it seems > Graves and life and rebirth reason and logic audio tools, Apple I Pod Disc WWW. whot you think this iz a hobbeyhorse? Woe their > its me Gonzo MC fly agaric y=1+3 = 4. Y me. Warme. he he hehe> i said it again, i’m here to slave poetry or maybe meaning to my weapons, i ain’t made my mind right up high yet asif because and therefore i’m me then, past participanting dogeared past has been. Attension stuck to the sealion. Any sufficient technology iz indistinguishable from Prose logik, so here goez my logik of the space jesuspect, [golden ass-maskara] my effort to praise the Loud and wordship the woid, the void aha! and so it goes > my slangwedge “Miph” and it works on a fuel dimple formula la’s [YOU the intuitive readers dexterity with these formations] laid bare for future nations to mull o’er and pilaged to build/grow the KNU world of poetree, Goddess wordship ^ fly agaric is a candidate for fame. Two be heard in sunglung, Caer Pedryvan four times revolving, wheat beats and barley winetime, the year of the corn re:appear! awake > three sheafs of wheat in left hand, three sheafs in my right > i have a lotus in my mouth, sky azure, autumn leaves brazen > my nuts > red with white warts > Woid is born from the cauldron, when was it spoken? Peach blossom breath of nine Brierly Hill beauties > Kingswives would weep to behold such byootea and gentleness in words but wen were they spoken? broken records bring in the year, a dj tunrtable reaper, no rapper you tweaker brother grime > this rhymes for time space travel by taking gravel and garbage and mixing em to make “timeless psychotropic pommegranny trees of Xtiansea > with which to end the empiricist age” True grit grime and mucky muddy dank stuff, old moldy fungus left in the back of the fridge, yes my frazzled ed.go stinks to high heaven > the name fly agaric of the firmament, the name of the emerald elemints and the nayme of the slanghourbridge and the naim on the Head-band AVANT, ye bards > i’m out of oak coffin box, sixteen feet undergraal > they dug me so much they dug me right up and out of the uddergrind > Glastonbury monks wearing gluebreen speedo swimming trunks and laughing they were, like they had ate Liberty Caps, and so > perhaps lyebredn’tea caps can fit in our back sacks and keep our language facility greesed enough to keep Greek, Roman, Englash, German, French, American, eyelash and Anglo-Sexy spooks well away. Vamoosh you non-poetic Goddess slayers, be gone you dominator wife beaters and world nature rapists, you fast buck religious killers, murderous and dropper of metal explosives, projector of metal doeses of led, instead of seeing flowers blooming not booming in your head, in OUR head, and I’m resurrected and Goddess snoozing dreaming of the castle of Pen Dragon, castle of the books of the dead, and the folk song tales running river weir yeah > “land of the serpents” Glastonbury is also the Isle of Avalon Apples Amanaita Muscaria and Jesus. Babel, Kai Vran, David Salome, Idris Rhea, Caleb Morvran, Uriel Jospeh, Lot, Gomer, Hur Ne-esthan, TALIESIN. Myfishlish brummy the divine fish Dylan ferrymon > lugging 3000 years of Chinese poetry man > [the bass of the cliff emerges from green mosses sprouting reads plunge roots into reddish marsh-bottom] a bag full of Illuminati books and five Pounds of Durban Poison > to the mountaintop > [before you know if your jaw is firm or soft] where hip hop scotch scratches jaws soundtrax to make bloody whisky teeth cut through the page > chompion. cigars are exchanged for Moonshine brews wheat barley and Oyster brew teas, full of ASH, Willow Oakjuice and Thunder. Ancient evergreens link arms with the city, I am a man eater, like Hannibal lecter i’ll tear of your cheek > you monkey > you cheeky monkey > tug at my coat and ask me when am i coming back, i am here! to go…..dine with me on Alder berry, Blackthorn white dry/wet decider, Wild-Agarick acrilliked Ivy bush, ouch. drink listen drunk speak woids gunguess > My palm and her Bush > potential sweaty kitchen spaces > Vine and Garter and the last know pub on earth called The entheogen. Hazel wands of word warfare spilling from a highly charged crooked stick, laughing with pride i ram steak through Kidney to the heart of Christereo homeland security [robot wisdome science] earth tottered, mountains crumpled, men perished, i’m rumbling to myselfishes and their school > our roving band of maverick poets singing the new agape fly white on Red, with a black soul, green slippers and Head-band reading – Avant bard > are you from the lost Welsh guild whose status was never regularized by law? Above below inside and outside the wall > bardin blag sluttyslag heap poets and write the world into exostence, and we do this by writing to the Goddess, the all-love and all-peace of Nature, women in our lives my life, the life, all of you i love you together as one big “Goddess” process tick tocking right now, hear it through me and tune OFF the TV, to me to me? what elese am i to do? to you? to you? and HER [plural goddesses] personification through fem, and through them > the other and the Goddess, giving birth and knowing symbol wordship shapes through trials and tribble with baby tale smiles and errors > women live in a dominator mans world where errors are statistickle pickled onions, and so it goes……we break the law to sing praise to the Goddess, the tops of the beech tree have sprouted. NOW change and renewl > [but for the echos of chimes and bells] from their once withered sleeping transformative stage > when the bitch prospers through spillings and spells and spellendingdongs litanies > the OAK tops entangle the ENTS are HERE, i am lyf acrillic and i say RISE like Easter Bunnies of 1916, rise like decembrists, all rise and breathe [as we swallow insults and curses] a spectrekkho is haunting the New World Order. There is Knu HOPE outside of star wars and Lucas Valley, Knu hope for the trees > to mean the trees yes, this is not cipher but code, narrow gulleys to be traversed > climb my lye town Indian rope-ladder, a telescope or magniflying gloss, GLOSS to look into the glossless matter. See? TREES the trees you see them. There they are! keepers of the GenIsisterhoods, the plants the herbs the species [gibbons scramble up their trees] they are our saviours literally,Trees = our food. Shelter, furniture, chemical balance brain rebuilding fibers = Trees trees trees [but they never tell a story] But you never listened! So listen, [the whole village rises with a willow whisp of smokejah] and watch the swinging APL glisten and then not glisten, and then it was NOT seen, and then… it was not born. Halloween and i’ll be seen at home. Evergreens everchanging keep going flowing like rivers and city sewers > flow and turning and versus and turning and the dance and waltz of energy up dancing versus ballards the Chackra pipes, playing Bird toones, tweetle Bop tingle and head warm rush and electric blue candle-ears listening. The Hazel is the poets tree and the Appleater Must stirrer ya has the power as stour hours of prattice and pratience > the salvation of Rappers? and I’m tuff like Salmon, huh swimming upstream, Huh Huh > in tatters, starving homeless carless and in capital tattered tattooed letters AUM > Shivia! Ohm Ode to the Joy of Coltrane Ohm. Dzogchen barkin about trees, red sun solar jesus in the bark, Wulf! Wulf! Sip an apple! Stellar region waters stroke my Oak ship side and sings lappings of King of trees Grizzly radio toons, Chou dynasties sung of two top knots not plaited as one. Brothers jesus and Satan forgotten > well maybe remembered in the Nativity play [when eye wuz young i played a dumb cow] goodly apples and BLOOD-red nuts and berries all older than time. Acorns and shrooms caps Aisey there kidda. Cornwool, corn bread Cash crop and Hip hop. Eh? Corn and the Reaper and Harvest and subsistence and dependance on rain dance and corn crop, so corn wheat barley rhye rhyme brings the year, dispells fear, and make the homebrewed beer taste clear and Loud and proud sufyouzz’d cheerfulness. Yes. Look, come this way to the Museyroom. [kiss my pigs cheeks under Nickamickapucks sacred rooftree] look, secrets of the unhewn dolmen transfered to your dome. Main linestream river Ess queere: winding Amazon rivers > to the braincentral station of estates of mind, states of wine fermenting, states of heads of states making statements about heads of poets. Numbskulls and boneless chicken hawks feast on nature bounty, while we are starving, hungry, rolling in a swamp called soschillizhyme, and that dunt rhyme with crime. Restoration of the sacred “The arts”. Still policid out of existence with cosmetic and pathetic [freedom fries to go] jesus Christ on a stick, mebbe the cryptonite for these “fundermentalist so so specialism christerfuckkerfanaticks” is just simple TREE bark! [beard?] trees yes yes i’m right here look, mold! > plentiful apple trees grow from that land, apples and wildernessy mushrooms and wild poems and wildernow sanguages and wilder notions of wild nations >dreams and games and play and fantasy and plant food budding nutrition yes yes > fresh from the woods and fresh shrooms, healthy yes > gather on the dew splattered fields and she is INN the field, Sillycymball sixteen feet underground in a OAK DR. Koffin, she is in LYE. Annaliving, ever Sleeping like a grandma, sound and always forever sleeping, Mao Mao > we are her dreams, and history is a nightmare-story witch is flying awake. Agape jaws cave mouth shout in synchronnie, chromatt scale les, stain lez and steve steel sinks, Technicks 1200’s and Gun metal heads spin. Fly sed: The Han dynasty 200 BC – AD 200 (see Chu Hsi) and please make a group effort to read Chuang Tzu, if itz the last superthing you do. Eat and be merry. say Lao Tzu and say “What Confucius said – “that he who was contented with his lot and prepared for the appointments of destiny, could not be sorrowful. Accordingly, i am glad.” thankyou all very glad! I have found my bible at last. The GOOD book of GOD. Phew….got that off my chest. Finnegans Wake: hologramick nick knackx or a rag bag of notes to myself? Wee will seeing >

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