DeleuzoGuattarianFictionMachine

tough

2010-01-21T21:00:00.001-05:00

_________________________But the molecules fight. _ No need for but! butt Mona she sighs the whirling gig of her text..... back to back. finding uncover to secret paths. neural rebellion against the Molar monster and their created earthquake. escaping paths to the sky..-------------------the longest march. the First they beat them to shit in themselves . then in others. turn them agains

this herd Jacky dereader

2010-01-18T10:00:00.002-05:00

Jacky was always a friend. A finding rival to the studs and fardels what would his name ascend the deconstructing star? The differance tale speaks the limit. Construction reconstructing its territory of fabled dinner the blind spot the ever eluded presenting of its. Homer cries the boy! Athena gray eyed goddess lint spotted on her ass: spit and shine my jewels! between the being of being's

fog horn and blue

2010-01-05T10:30:00.001-05:00

You want perfection I want to create. Thus Jill's words to her lover. And that's how creatings done imperfectly pregnant .

before the knight

2009-12-09T10:00:00.001-05:00

before the knight was preaching and pontificating... the shoemaker had to be found forging his foot... before every knight becoming its ranging .. yes . come along you tools and bakers button your doubloons the skating's done. This way we have wish for sailors and jawbreakers for needs, hawkers for refted sounds, __ over at Jill's face the lines fret and work the creaking night dawn .

scrog

2009-12-02T10:30:00.002-05:00

if scrogging does the thing.. then do it push it away from the Calais harbor heading to Toulouse ... the madmen in the ship .. . the crayfish covered hull the scrawny wharf stinking to high hello and then some low vengeance as when a ship comes back home heading off a whore wire to the high seas and low lament of its breathless song.... and the letter bowed out...

simile not metaphor

2009-11-30T14:00:00.001-05:00

Rough up the adage catapult its drawerstring suit. The Mozart traveler works well agains the stage. Carrying many boats in . Along the what's it called.Does America spell power with an E or with death at every mouth tuba?_______________________Jill's ina swift Mona moving out inoutinexistential.

the machines assembly

2009-11-28T14:00:00.001-05:00

Jill's rhetorical pin wheels . Tears won't hurt them sister there'll be tears to come worse than these comfort them dont attack me for the tears they dropped their tears'll teach em teach how it hurts to love_ god turns his face away from Cain yet turning his turning he turns that turnin to his will just like them tears''l teach about the real fears to come the big storms... and ya know families

love's boot was a

2009-11-27T10:00:00.001-05:00

Love's boot was a god's good foot. ... As far as Jill's concerned the dead're awake living in Spinoza's great palace. His feet balance the term of tinkle and wheat parrying the love sword of love. A brush a bush waved to its frosted parlour. None heard the ululate in the ovum road. Episodic as the bumble bee hubcapping rush he riveted the nail past her bucket seated ultraviolet sun.The good

Sheaf ~

2009-11-26T10:30:00.002-05:00

__________________________ Jill's boot's are sheaves. The smile of death's everywhere.... what did what his name say? I hear the winds... the arms .... the flowers... care's worn the sun away washed off the soap stone's brilliance... the lord don't hear nothing... a friend doesn't hear the call in the hurling sky... pounding ... the bang back and forth.... the rain drives... water the

Holding rose ...s ...

2009-11-25T10:00:00.001-05:00

Jill holds here horses:roses, comatose off the obvious toes marry chariots of gold busting waterfall.The before she knowsitinto thecone shegoeslongarriving at last longat the b.w.o. of the earth ~ .___________Now rose are lilacs and the relating soul is a bursting pane of joy!We'll hold our buckets full of love.______________

asking these and those...

2009-11-24T14:00:00.001-05:00

People are asking questions. Is it geology or theology is she grace of justified immanence by its transcendent rules, the egological fate of the sedentary destiny, and secondary to its puffed lineaments. Is Christ the tiger the wave chopped by goodness what Artemis of rosing sowing gods? O you dare! you dare! back to England and the transcendent

infinitely tall ....

2009-11-23T14:58:00.002-05:00

Them that's so important. Can't keep a clandestine face. And hidden in their delirious regimenting need the smallest pretending it's the larger scope of its determination . And so tacking along becomes like that. Wished for leap. Not quite the night of 74 was it? She wept to hear the uncontrollable sighs the tears of. Not the police but the bashing heads. Was it this way the circus came to an end

choose

2009-11-22T19:00:00.000-05:00

This way the moon works. Cries crime! moon ! sun! war! the Illiad and its boots . That 'tramping on the counterpane' and outside the grimy .. . mist .. comes along a hair's breadth close to truth. Plato didn't dig that with his spade and mathematical genius nor did the stranger bastard Parmenides the square flat of being. Unmoving and close to the rocket lick the totem pole the ricocheting love

come around again...

2009-11-21T13:30:00.002-05:00

That might be Vico and his bicycle rounding the range . if not then why not the alleyway of sunlight dappling . This wasn't the place was it now? She might be on you boyo over the path near the plinth. Its reckoning come sung home. At Calais the forts are nothing left. In Ireland the hoboes are left to rustle leaves pack jackets and ring the tinkers bell. Applause apple sauce and the

tuning

2009-11-20T16:33:00.003-05:00

Turn up the tune Oedipus your bucket's boshed .Mashed between four teeth eight gods, nuns and toothsome side winning. Table turning its spin goes quicker as fast lightening peeving out the god of taste and waiting on table after table according to the choice allegory of its ovulation. Ovum to ring its treasured sweet on!This babe's got her arse on backwards. We'd wave if we could, but darning

Of the

2009-11-19T16:11:00.002-05:00

Frightened of the day Jill calls her pattern. Catatonia kata _ and katabasis the rumbling round the swinging sward. The swan and at the dark end of the far square is that a ricocheting thing... hunkered down stars falling round ... its lime and lemon and the twinge of gods backed up ... terrorized by gods ...Heartily we've deconceived their seed . But down by the river grace's has its

gelid

2009-11-18T20:00:00.000-05:00

____________Gelid might be horses yet not the wooden sun . Come along now ~ we're headed to the smoke room. Wreathed in cloud of idea, and elbows here arms there, heads, over, arms akimbo, the bowl turned over, the camera clicking or the sound and the tape and its there a spot slip on the floor oh its costly no its not its she her breath and breast and this one o her and he there the favoured?

trial by error

2009-11-17T11:00:00.000-05:00

______Trial by error remanding Mona.. Her chair's poetry is chalk and chiaroscuro . This way a teaching's been revved by her commands. And the lust beat down. Not so the mumbling but better this way than removed by force, and edified by bring to and going home she knew her breath sluicing through her . Out to in to out and her girl her double nape and the reverent secret kiss._______________

lake

2009-11-16T17:15:00.000-05:00

_____________________In this lake she reached a caterer the cutting thing underfoot, was something as a song was flumed to its bearable note . Then up it went reaching the sky grounded round a firmament of paste and sky. No one stirred its belt nor the infinite quality of its marriage. This way its heard round the earth the one two one to reach preach its pleasure the beauty of its mare Has

infinitely receding

2009-11-15T16:40:00.001-05:00

________________Infinitely receding in the dark shrinking Spinoza prince of the tear. Clock of the weening word heard its bearable fate, the shrank duck and breaking wave. Not overthe spume but the funnel of cellos.Jill measuring the beat_________________________________

return and fern

2009-11-14T16:45:00.001-05:00

-----------------------Chains had a way. Of talking Shackles bore their weight and the magazine heard the ringing. Mona felt a sun penetrate the rocket weave whirl its summer back buttering the pair of wheat, the refted stalk the keen chair the sudden felt of its church city of nowhere and the throng and the bust the head sharing its complete gentle hour . Thither the Jill and Mona bore

but eats

2009-11-13T15:30:00.000-05:00

Carapace is like having a face. No face. the face in the wood, in the fur, in the seething giant of the poorest makes for descriptive desperate airs, and like a clematis twines round its fender . and the mark has no space. but eatsMona ties the shoe round the lace that bends the leg wishing for nothing but an unconscious preceding itself.But eateries are not dining rooms and salon is not a

this kempt pair of hook

2009-11-12T23:50:00.001-05:00

She goes blank blank up against the wall its furring falling... if the turret pouts and the rain clambers down the chimney will it henceforward be the becoming of trees? Can syntax fuss its rubbing tube down the corridor of time?Every face's mirror knows this way, its grappling and praising .

this river wont meet

2009-11-11T14:00:00.000-05:00

She hear it the circle's circumference, the real Jesus buttercup ontology and the 5 amendment proof of her sexistence . At the living room, couch and armchair wrapped in paltry plastic, she's heard the choir chiming the bells on the balcony, and knowing her daddy is there, shes running the water. If she's lucky it's because she heads south leads a charmed life and reads the right books not the

take back your wall Mona

2009-11-11T10:45:00.000-05:00

Take back your wall Mona, the trees are blowing. Over the side stepping and sidereal space she canters a little like her mother. The godless. Fret. And bowing cape. Not an understudy or a butler but a maid with the dirty things they're supposed to wear. To cartograph her appetite. She's a big fat smile in the reckoning of the world, and its pod