A church is a place of souls
Of buildings
This church built on incestuous ballings
So you better bring a bucket if you want to understand


											zucchini
											couldn't
											figure
											out
											how
											it
											classified
											itself


	What are you reading?

	The bad news:


a dash of titanic, asteroids thinking in lasers, a nurse with rubber cups of fear, pygmy 
hunting: a gentleman's sport, old women with desk top legs, huge dongs invited to attend, 
stiff and evidence against us, the added thrill of incest, fascinating farmboys, rechargeable 
sickos, trucks in indiana grinding through loopholes, husbands on the blacktop getting
church mice pregnant, dancing in the slaughterhouse with belts and caps in the air, fidgety 
and irritable families going to carefully selected derelicts for a woman's smile, two hours 
of ma a week, live performances in the garage, crimes and groovy birds who don't fly


	      I don't need personality
	      When I've got
	      Little Miss New York City
	      You're lovely
	      Scientists need you so
	      You have forgiven me
	      Riced me
	      I am a passenger
	      You are a little pile
	      Earth is useless
	      To toilet within reason
	      Hunting for the prostate
	      On one condition
	      Sleep on it for 60 days
	      Minus others


i need you to screw me officially
overflowing with reliability
making the promise like plato's poetry
i hate hustling men out on the highway
stripping off his comprehensive reality
don't touch a forced issue louie

he was mature enough to view his cock 
as a mighty gift from stores, drained of tax dollars
darting from one mouth to another, the purple head
of his application, the children
oozing out all over his fingers, yielding
to temptation, educated in what pleased
a woman, he didn't want
schoolbuses to fuck


A sensible act will help you, master
Yes master, he is not dead
The assistant will have him die, master
You'll be the telegram, master
I understand, waste it not, it is in a knot
A telegram, the earthman, great galaxy
I have killed him, Jesus is responsible
Is that an accusation, you're wearing gloves
It isn't human, yes master
A robot cannot be a legal witness


		why are there no notebooks

		on the moon?

		why is the moon brown?

		why are apples brown?


"We bar code our families. Our son is dead
with a smelly woman and a large tree. We raised him to be
a fine shielding device. We all fall down this morning
baked in a pie."


She saw the sheriff, he looked like a convention
She lowered the Dow, coated with lizards
Punish her for something she doesn't understand
And an alien race to glow all over my hand
And she returned from the sexual wonderland
She was hallucinating without the right thing to do
Now she knifed down into international research
Train her, and chip off the ol' block



Pub. May 1998

DRC