Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Tuesday, April 1, 2014


by John Pursch

Low-slung pocketed and pilloried poppies grow sidelong in hustled snowbound escrow totem potions, wafting elongated trunk line noise of treetop escapades to jugular infusion’s terrifying mastiff, breathing solidarity in timed illusion’s predatory beatnik phase of quantized birth, misbegotten youthful lassitude, and beachball bunko squad car zeal on tumid asphalt ideograms of spawned intent.

Garbled miscreant woe floats recital plans down canal breast stoolies, cruelly fueling interdicted continental humdrum piano parties with snake entendres, rippling the sky for welding stork deliberation squawks, chewed to lazy hotel stockyard grooming towers, bleary eyed and groaning over phenobarb in plastic bagman clarifier squints. 

I burble, take another tablespoon of powdered Barbie doll with tap water, and flop back on the seedy old couch, watching daylight slowly creep across the wooden floor’s faded nail heads. Televised ecstatic fits emulsify on curtain rods, treading wafer-thin soldier empties into nexus rounds of car door manufacture, genuflecting to reversal’s v-neck kingdom of sagging Christmas serration, fornication grinding clockwork couples off at queasy kneepads, feathering propwash offspring to queening mumbles.

Mainspring waters waddle from side street leeway sump hits to call-girl hall pass sleet massage, infesting pillar intestines with low-flying bedspring pox, gaveled to gravy garrote gravel sunsets in wheelhouse camaraderie by comediennes in vacant hominy leaps. Snuggling steeps the mourning desk junkie in fused terrarium tears, flushing sanguine flesh to subway torpedo verandas and viewport gnus on safari from sofa dereliction booty’s straightener needle, wheezing wallflower dusk in twenty-second seizure bulkhead dues, imploding hourly to teaspoon write-off duodenum kites.

Forced ciphers implant satire’s glyphs in lunging rebirth canticles of cuticle craters and warm criteria, socking cloned copper spills with hinterland stew’s industrial statesmen, toppling deadwood steering peels beyond anathema’s Panamanian strainer bleat. Pulverized yore scans shoeless histrionics for beveled oaf kumquat cake, missing hexagonal subjectivity’s warped inset mop amidst the chosen catamaran’s ideal hinge set. 

Sputum resurfaces quorum quoits with coital cinder hearth ejecta, flossing the troposphere with eyelash sweat in littered bollocks, foisting lurid knights on ogled tinsel’s interrogative recompense for strudel sandwiches of U-boat violin entrancement. Public uppers flit from store-bought moths to hens of transitory segue telepaths, predicated on lurching four-door codgers and glaucomatous postcard press-on quarries, slipped in hebephrenic tarantula shadows.

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