thejesus

a little type-it-as-fast-as-it-will-come-out word association for y'all..

murky cymbals cracksmack my head through potato ship moments as i slide through the soapy riddle halfway down the groundkeepers bottle of siberian camera shackles my mind to my fingers as they move across time and slip like slime into my pocket

now kapow bounces back and hits me on track to fall down town or a villiage in space or time and my crime appears to be bouncing wooden quarters of decks while flecks of gold draw down my skin and scold the silence as moments dare to unfold

smile for a while crashed as my pants hit floor and that was only the door for beating pounds of flesh and create this mess where i file for a while my mind or preseved in brine in a barrel with flowers that bleed colour for hours and nails for pails i trade it all scratching the walls with signs of breakbeat bass dips and my pebbles drop bottomless and then unfolds my mess

dancing chose my movements as feet went through street smarts filling shopping carts moved by sounds of half crazy mounds with motors driving piercing spinning rotors that chop the air like carrots for hair and spun round green lacing birds with wings the size of my nerves before they lost their grounding and found that god lost his hair and fair is fair

sweating mercury means i added numbers to crumbs and found sums that meant i was spent before i was sent from my yesterday to your tomorrow so that i can borrow two cups of fury because with this many coins you have to bury the wealth before it takes your health to the poisonous creams and oils that slipslide through my mortal coils

hit and miss slink and hiss i can move my wrist through your mist and beyond your fog as if i could job though mountains and snow only to show my heels to those that feels like my feet have lost contact with this earth and tripping back towards my birth i can shake off the waters of the lake that ebb and flow like life on slow

crispy or wispy frame for blame and my caution slows like marshmellow flows as my hands seemingly on their own find and twist her wrist to her back attack with my push of candy shove and blue lane follows the blame hand on the sky it's moan or cry and with clouds for toast and butter for jam i distance myself and peel the banana i am

envy has the process to send me into nights of spinning lights where wrongs make rights and i'm crossed and lost my wires set in numerous fires by bass and dreamt like lace through cones and tweeters to the heaters in my body and i create and state my purpose is beyond my intentions and my feet fall like chords slicing like swords air that meets my lungs as sweet

orgasmic rubbing while my brain was stubbing itself put on a shelf where words like fingers know spots and lingers tracing my mouth with sand the movement of my hand like thoughts in my brain derailed for the train and tracks lost in stacks of waves and forms amplitudes and norms erased in storms but flowing like pleasure images my slaves enjoy at your leisure