Gertrude Stein Takes An Axe To My Head

Let's all devolve and put on our cots
Cots that are solved dissolving, revolving
Taking chunks out of our cots
And coats and floats
Bloating where nothing matters
Of the latter of course of of ladders
Spoken for and of and around
The cots and coats, oh
My lord bloat and soak
In the juice, loose and
Crackling as they were we went
And I and us and parted upon
Notes of joyful shudders
Cluttering in in my
Face
Erase
I win
I take the light
I might
I darken in your embrace
That we were to know
Right now don't you know, know what you know,
You know now know where you go when you go with whom
You used to love as you reigned from above the cluttered notes
Of joy above what you now know as love that was taught above you
And lost in his loss of an an embarrassment
What had that scent, which had his bare ass meant? To the top I say as as I say
Up on top of the top and tops his with that way they may say that may say that that
Say of what may be and and they may slay all those little sheep
Counting those little sleepy sheep
Bloody bodies all sheepy and sleepy
One, ni, drei, quattro, cinq and on on on on til I think there ain't no more sheep
And I'll cross my heart and heart my cross
As I devolve and put my sleepy sheepy head upon that cot.