
If you go down to
the woods today aaaaaaarrrrrgggghhh! killer
mutant grizzly bears!

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These airforce men are
Such manly men’s men. That’s why
It’s called a cockpit.
When flyboys hit on
You, here is a tip: disarm
them through alcohol.
Drink him under the
Table, girl. Octopus hands
Flailing. Evaded.
Haematophagous
Reproduction. Better than
Fucking a flyboy.
By computation.
That’s how we computed it.
By computation.
SOP. Beat ’em
Or thermite bomb ’em. They go
Up pretty easy.
Electric blanket
Blamed. Quartermaster facing
Investigation.
Chiefs of Staff issue
New regulations about:
Blankets, electric.
Seventeen people.
Academy ratio.
Medium shot. Awe.
No. It is not so
Much a super-carrot as
An above par-snip.
There’s only one way
To let a girl know you’re keen.
Flaming kerosene.
Show her how hot you
Are in bed. Torch the mattress
She’s hiding behind.
Carrington. New York
Jewish Commie Queer. And worse.
An intellectual.
Homophobia
Trumped by homophonic
Play on Ark and arc.
From outer space it
Came. To steal arctic footwear.
Keep watching the skis!
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I kick much ass yet:
my own ass defines me. That,
and my barren womb.
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It’s Thor’s Hammer gags.
Der-du du du, du du du,
Du du. Can’t touch them.
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“Fuck this shit,” says Cap,
“another of these fucking
films is all middle.”
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Ultron’s radical
green accelerationism.
Not such a bad plan.
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Three walk through the Zone.
Nothing happens. Not a thing.
A glass moves, oddly.
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Beyond Jupiter,
Through the monolith. Trippy.
Awful hotel, though.
***
Who’s that over there?
Looking at who? Older me?
Black slab just appeared.
***
Creepy monolith.
Why are you so near my bed?
Aargh! Glow-y foetus!
***
Primates weaponised.
Humans evolved. Became a
Great big space baby.
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Not street any more.
Must fit in. Must patronise
and demean women.
*****
Poor yoof confused by
Oedipal complex, class war
and princess anal.
*****
Guillotine’s too good
For them. Exploding implants?
Best fireworks ev-ah.
*****
(Samuel L. Jackson
is bad. Not The Spirit bad.
But Robocop bad.)
Apologies for yesterday’s premature post. Let’s try this again. With the full set.
He runs a saloon.
Left politics left behind.
A woman, of course.
We had Paris but
He had the certificate.
Hmmmm, transit papers…
Rick, Ilsa: I’m black!
Nazis here, Jim Crow back home.
Screw ‘As Time Goes By’.
Let’s do it! For love!
Then plan to flee together.
Psych! Get on the plane.
Queered by Rick’s scheme,
Fates entwined like lovers’ limbs.
Beautiful friendship.
We had Paris but
He had the certificate
Hmmmm, transit papers…