The Brew Sit

Title: The Brew Sit
Title: Hands, dis-appear: the three glass door Block; a new version of locking

Author: Goura Fotadar
Dates Written: 04/30/2015 —05/01/2015 (P.S.T. in U.S.A.)

tags: random-not ab-extract-art secure your outlets re-hab
categories: WIN_20150501_163814WIN_20150501_163823

pate scribe
d-ale
cough-cough
long raid, p, list
cups rickety ding

desiccated remains
denied decomposition
bring forth

octopus man
my dancing companion
bet, but ain’t you more
skillet at it than me

Unite US oh Free-dom
Free eee eeee eee eee
Free eee eee eee eee eeee
eeee eeee eee

the snake in my neck
is just’n
grow’n
small, young’n
a-sees almost
wire struct (truncaters)
Other – One sees face, I see texture.
they eat poison, for health
fine-ale the bottles stance
waits a-glance
I see my ol’friends-
form-with
body-w/ou
out-hangin’ in the
win, doze!

a flinging
larger
spider
red
on the wood
door.

octopus man sees
in his rain-coat
red faces of
jealous-y
in the place oh
pacers
“real’ faces; turnind reels
of paint hook question

two spiders
trapped in
a upside-down
glass Reality
until Death

the look into an Emblem:
all ?, in the structure
right, Fierce?

the work
the lean
against
the Heavenly
& if you
don’t jive
with that
then,
against
the outer
space Path
Strength, Pointer
letting your
effort
transfer
(though being
modified
by
the
pass
to a steeper
climb-er)
& experiencing
it:
its
surgeon
w/out the pain
of effort
for the
first?
in your Existence;
your work’s Truth pay,
moving Up
energy

little morses of that Upmoving
instant improved
by your, this
(alliteration, ch:) succeeding successive
effort:
to basic goods like healing By,
your work-efforts.

The Morbid Stance:
Brutal walk to suffering ex,claim
After being
shaken
starved
ba’th-room
deprive’d says
for Sum,

I yell at reality:
This is too
much
Suffering:
why am I allowing this to Happen
Me for this long:
I want what is Causing this
Suffering
to-be- End.
Death Hap-pins

I love the purple outfit
& the flower colors
my woolen hair, warmer?
the chocolate smudges I eat of/from
sheets and My, Own, Feet.

What kind of beg-ghar
gives
away
spare-change?

I due I due I due I due I due I due
infinities
in-finite-ties

crows & vultures

Up Stirs

It means Free-Us!

on those curve-y
spirals
the leaves
de-toxing
the-anima-fine

the guy in the
bushes

asking why i ain’t got
know-shoes?

the smell of that locker stuffed
never-washed
it’s alright if you
can’t it

it’s maniac algae
that cures your?
thing: that you don’t want
cured

& the flat-land
in-between

the van that packs park
the curve-spins
security scope: the man waiting-there, for?
I yell across the land with anima in hand,
” ” a made-up question
He doesn’t budge, so I know he’s not her, for float
I change directions, we’re out of water
only enough to turn, back,
as Plan. We have to break Plan keep going hours-hours in other direction, finally Horses
appear: We are Safe;
but still not back to Our Starting Destine natal Shun.

Gratitude,
I ax-sewage
that word
as a
compliments,
complement ate,
be-ing
that
we are we
We are We
&
medium we are
medium we
be drumming
yous, all?

K rupture pit-a-towel stamping palm lines … does your stamp or mine or Yours
make any Difference
oh fools oh fools oh fools
I am in control of my Own
I am responsible of my Own
not circumstance not outward appearance but rather Traject ory or sumpin’ li’ that

The Lord can be My Own Burst-er
or a Expand draw ’em

en if you doin not belie graze tat
then lemme tell ya come up with a pissin sysem that a workin’ bittrn’ that Tat-a or sumpin’

dude dude dudes
dude ettes ettes dude ettes
joy z us.

rood that ‘s a sum sound li’kite my fav feed
who mad e it

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