Broadness of birth

The shivering omnichord poured from her throat as if she had pipes of sweet honeydew, into the folded paper flute he'd fashioned himself. Using overdeveloped musculature from his days as a horse mocker, he brought his nose down over his front teeth and jutting out his jaw gave it a gust of warm breath.

overused and overdue

Blessed for him was the time he first frenzied his love wrath upon the meek. But for the meek, well, they hath delved into computer programing and information technology. For him though, as said, the time was blessed.

Each night he thwarted and smote and bested all the do gooders and must haves and then lay with their wives until a flock the size of ten flocks seethed beneath him. And they begat unfortunates whose pains of frenzy begat flocks themselves and soon they built a temple of worship and called it best buy.

Amid howls of the beast, and gnashing of beaked woman-hawks, talons made agape the now hairless abdomen of the begotten, and so fell them.

and their children, you and I, must learn to deal.

amen.

A connection

The clensing fluid of needy persperation had evaporated off his neck only a moment before, and still erupted from his back, soaking the chair of the coach he was slowing. There on the corner, she saw him riding high, smelled his odor of conquest and sensed the power of his loins. Needing to join her fertility with this power, she signaled him with her eyes and lips. He was surprised, and excited. And said to himself nine times as they made love, "I am surprised, and excited."
Together they bore nine children who walked the land spreading time for people to use in private.
And they were content. He brought forth his clay, which he had learned to dig in his youth, and form in his old age, and he created an image of his contented wife. When She first beheld her own image, her fears turned to anger and she took him and rolled him in the mud until he could scarce take breath. The monument of joy absorbed all joy, and all things near it were relieved of their joy and so she left him. And the nine children asked their father why, and he took a great hammer to the likeness of his joyous wife, and rebuilt her to form a hearth and he cooked bread from dawn till dusk until the maggots got him.
amen

Tranquil rumors murmered

So Fearful, So erotic, so dead. Already Dead wont to choose a lingering moment of lingering froth uponst a quivering brow you practically named thy first born the same. Either that or greg. We cheer for the shakers and bury them deep. Nobody asked me to. Not like anybody asked me to. The words slither into the ears of doubters and plague them with a need for opium. Only when drugged does the demon of good fortune slow dance with greg, the gradual menace of poor choices and regret. And only during their dance, can we sneak off and hump in the swamp behind the development.
Enough nonsense, breath in and fertilize your lungs and brain with a pungent manure of hope. There is hope, but it comes only with focus. Focus you fool.
Let thy lips be moist, let thy brow convict, let thy knees spring powerfully and thy pelvis do the talking.

Dust buttock lassie, dust buckake lass

It's ugly, so touch it. It's ugly, so breath close to it. It's ugly, so fix it with your tendermost stare. Feed it with lies so it may grow to attract the attention of belief, and profit from the debt of those who cherish belonging. As they exit they will remark to one another about there orgasm shields, what a bargain for only three easy payments of your childs.
Sexual sounds at an odd televisiony hour of the afternoon bring three fertile youths under an open window. Two of them run for the woods to make love, and the third starts an online pornography ring to compensate for his loneliness. He is questioned and he tells lies, not to hide the truth, but to protect his pride, fool. (It will throb at his morsels for months.)
He never finished anything, including his own life. A sad premonition. I get firm just thinking about it. Pitch like thirty thousand tents and charm a chorus of robots to sing my praise. Unfinnished could mean immortal. like a circle, jerks.

Consternated latherings

"A cowards dream" verse to moisten specifically your groin.

The bully must come from the bull.
Big and mean and with horns and stamping.
The children in the school yard flee.
Sharpen your weaknesses, children, learn the ways of mans law.
If you are unwavering there will be mercy.
Get comfortable allow warm regurgitation.
if you resist it will be painful.
A couple of important ifs.


amen

more like verse twenty tit, psalm dick

The group maintained a daily patrol of the shore. They chose their way carefully over the rocks, watching several dozen women swimming out in the deep water. There was no fear of invasion, as Clark assumed the patrol was for. The waves crashed, and the group clambered over the last rocks before the beach and spotted a business man on his knees in the sand frantically burying something in a pile of paper dollars. The man jumped to his feet and stumbled backwards, fingers taut. The women, having completed their lap stormed out of the water and tore the man apart and flung his guts into the sea.
"Oh nasty." Said the man next to Clark sarcastically, speaking for all. They watched, and pulled the draw strings on their matching windbreakers tighter against the whipping spray. "dude was bug-ging." "Everybody takes drugs at the beach, asshole." "this isn't even about drugs" "Easy on the name calling, Jared." Cautioned Clark.
They took Clark's mis-step as a chance to pin down the voice of reason. Even the so called asshole he had been defending joined in and held Clark's nose so they could fill the prescription.
Later, in the dark under a tree, thirty meters above the fire, Clark hugged his knees. Every few seconds licking the bloodmucus that collected on his stubbled upper lip as it pulled from his nose.  He tried to ask what progress had been made.  An attempt at fitting in, making the small talk that was once the secret code of union. Trying to show them he still knew and trusted the good old way. Ross, who instead of minding him as was his charge, watched jealously as the naked women below strangled the surrendered enemies with their strong tanned legs.
"Did we make it w- w- with the weather like that?" Clark stuttered explosively. "I, I... I was... The rocks, uh... ah, To-Tomorrow we can, uh... do, you, you, you, you." Ross ignored the projectile spackles of blood and snot that caked on his shoulder from Clark's phatic misconduct.
This is a new day, Ross thought to himself.   Old tones and rules of belonging are stalling us, the faster they're unlearned the sooner we'll be welcomed into the silvery space cannons.
Clark was vomiting quietly now. The spasms subsided and his tongue ceased its fruitless tidying. Blood mixed with the puke that flowed peacefully and effortlessly down his slack jaw. The distant fire warmed the fear frozen in his eyes and as it melted, his knees pumped like an nyewly emyerged monarch pumping the juice into its wings.  His legs relaxed slowly to the ground and folded into a comfortable half lotus.  Leaning forward he put his face into the bowl of water Ross had placed before him hours earlier. He washed his face, getting his fingers in around his eyes, he felt good. With his wet hand he ruffled up the hair on the back of his head. "Total babe alert" he quipped. Ross smiled and stood up. "About time asshole."
Shedding their cloths they joined the women around the fire. The waters rose to answer their prayers and then the sun evaporated all, leaving a desert planet covered in wart-looking stone towers. As it orbited it bragged and showed pictures on its divine refrigerator.
The water would look back, wishing it could have brought the rock along, signing checks year after year, and quipping to nobody in particular, "I hope I don't wind up in a home."
Amen