Strike and Blow, stoking electrical and other bits of sciencefact to keep YOUR FEET improvising conti-nuously intensive details. Improvements. Biological fiction. Still…you gotta keep moving aintcha? (Lipsmacks) Guts pulled at gibet, 1st swimming lesson. Drones hold their entrails runin’ all over the bloody place – batty. Tiny scales on the window sill
boiled in death-throw-frozen-still nipple-legs PLEEEASE maybe a trade for something better still, here’s to hopin’, metamorphy and maybe some soul-transmigrationary sewn on broadsheetglos- sy-stuffed tights or…better still…jam today jam today jam today jam today…smells well bad but feels good held against YOUR TONGUE sizzles popping-candy chocolate spangles. Trying new things: midi-fresco tattoo meanly stained on mid an.alBUM didn’t know YOUR LOVER wanted until it flows, wept into the sheets. Bosch machine spin- nin’on extrahot EP heartsichord in concert with… oh!…and that nice fuzzy YOUR-MOM-still laughin’ feelin’ streamin’ Ye olde-sitcom song…just when you thought you’d get round to the washingup then damn n blast your goggly eyes, its pudding time again! Steamed.