Issue 17: Thomas Kelly

The Inheritance of Choice

Why should we die for your red justice crumb, brimming LARP into razed eye, like, a juggled face laughing Vumoo bite, clicking his alternative on the neck You enter ripe suffrage, pupil : links purr into cube, rude to freak compact autonomy except fingers made only from tears, and you could see them, slurried with hats.

I imbibe the installation when sufficiency gets cold. She licks things. Moments, circuitry, the metric system. Sometimes the return of bridal ice. Less capable performance perforates the mercury whereat are dread the bronzed leek, squiffed under neon, latte dimple coughed under her eye. And squeak crowns. I like the way you, clucking with affluence, gather your brisket and state the execution of the prime. Constituent raid pools beneath the knee. Sometimes gravy is patently neutral. At other times, you clearly divest. What exactly does extinguish? Only smelt like a boy’s sleep, I wanted to carry that with me forever. Like copper whimpering inside the mountain turns into an actual rotate, scrumping for acid, the jaw is so minor, I guess this contains LSD, pinch dip, I guess this gets fucked up on banter, or like a star to tilt to Forex, bloody stench of meat, cauterize the breast is a version.

Could you maybe say thank you to the emerging totality of social relations or do you scream at rehoused steel? What is the exterminated comma in your chest that makes you fuck up everywhere you go to everyone you meet? OK then, the transgression neutralised itself, naturally, the aggression I feel doesn’t penetrate the argument for universal lactose but I still distill it. Get your crumb off my leg you arid whatever pointless there is literally a crisp packet is literally a hole in my leg you can’t hear it next to the party I rubbed proof without I’m not Walter Benjamin I don’t know who that is.

But the radiant body is local and still, the head split open like a generous commission (is a pomegranate farting). This avers to nothing when you see beside you the angelic denture of genocidal rape flickering with maximum gravidity, pesticide crumbs leak from the vaginal brain and a grinning cherub speaks quietly to a hushed audience of contour fang with pert arousal dripping from his canine skull about the collapsed economic migraine you sometimes see in an African woman’s nose after you dink it under the spam envelope. The polemical J-Lo is always acute and castrated. You look at a cloudy belly, seared and chosen, whimpering inside the policy of munched ash ticking, all your friends are the same. Fucking children is a violation of nothing within the capitalist rainbow thigh. Torture culture is dans la lettre comedy honey brushed into fat wine killed no jury evades the inhospitable ripped eyelash aids nothing there is no quotation in the committed priority of the inoculated do you disagree rain bangs. little girl screaming.

Because I have not got a discipline cherry, I honour all significant medicine. Wiki cheek frisks into iron, style throat, delink the crime against the concept is a husband wraps his child in the sedated finger, backlink negation of terror in the stalker room.

Cracked brocade sweating was a lurid nail, screamed into flap, I called it the indispensable nature of our vital composition, swaggering under the PLIVA trees without a correct lamppost to make red pie, call it, conviction, that as I stand there, nervously awaiting the distinction of sufficient daily purchase, there will be a brand pressed into my cheek, it says something dutiful, the metadata chalk can’t consist by attrition, and I rehearse the complex abolition spark propped up against the meat wall, because it felt like misdirection when I applied the mawkish reefer in adumbrated salon pink ADR snatch rice curdling in the nominal tooth, slapped dry ice to process the treatment of protein arthouse, say I do not have a tongue in me, they cut it off along with the pain lace was also a head, it looked like my head when I looked like my head please rescind what I adequate smartphone, and I saw all of this and rhodopsin blanket I draw up around me, a small face drops into view, it is sparkly and red. It looks like full responsibility chainsaw.

Deep, deep austerity of dwelt, 9000 social housing ripped to smug chaff bucket merely evoke burnt follicles of children, talking in the streams below the Innocent once more, as we may still revoke our blameless perfect passive, with reference to the poverty of speech, rubber urn scrunched up like a dumb, tortured face.

Cupboard bludgeons a grain, Candied with rust, the velocity of pigment is a lingering heart, propped against milk in the chosen room, surface of bleach crackling with bray.

Gesture, you really cherish the super potato. Scenes. To its iconography of killed my parents anything really smells the same dartboard. Blunt Levigated terrify and privacy because hello, Idol Johnson does inform the bourgeoisie of his intentions in the mediatised conjecture is a fat man masturbating to adolescent children or a different thing like, he doesn’t even understand I don’t think, the irreducible complexity of bubbling like flapjack, I made him enter the predicted stone.

No-one can accept the insubstantial. I just light fry, the home is in Böll. To understand is a rote performance. Who exagerates an artfuck odiose child. This is collateral. Moment is parsley. Instead, the indirect is more an explanation, rather, one is contorted in the white hay our face, dripping like Americans established were exacted. I don’t care about the New York and I don’t care about the Brighton. Still, we aerate things we lost, like Habermas. Difficult to know what I am these days, I think I was an animal like you or like Future, but anyway Play begins to talk about ascension. Eacj into file, the crest is incendiary ;;Lyrik farm my vile putsch of leaves accrue in pellets are my life, a purple gauze of cream we sleep the vial of the lawn, the Pine of class hatred split the voluble city. I dont care about the few bulk eschar, oh Puppy, oak leaks in my rent, I don[t care about the bright one sweeping my name.

And you know, there is a picture you will never see that quickens on my heart. yOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND THE SEXUAL DYNAMICS OF CAPITALIST RESTORATION IN CHINA AND I DON’T WANT YU TOO. I miss you Panda, I miss you Spain. Tell me about my scribble of pear, twitter of dj it’s still not alive. Still the facticity is a beutiful thing. If you wait to see that I don’t go extinct, and I talk to you beneath the pregnant trees. aND YOU’RE BEAUITFUL ARE THE QUIET REEF, ON MY HEAR,T,. A small thing is, I like u, are wuiet with me an d the impact matt. Just dress where you found it , yuou are dying and, this mix feels good to me ribbon. aNNA tICEHURST WOW, FRECKLES IN HER EYES. Hibiscus emoji. Brilliant arm.

Cancer melts equitably murmuring the Fraktion, Misy, keep refrigerated if the pain you feel isn’t really pain, but more just like things are smudged, sometimes, and you can’t really tell what they mean. Then you adore mi, you implicate the string, so cherry and gutted like turbo, the snow puff.

If you need to eat the desirable then you die. Her skin was like a raspberry margin, aching with season. Fingers of maple float on my face, lingered with dive, our pale receipt.

Hosed a sung fist off the walls, they tighten, straws of pressure crammed into browse, rinsed edible missiles, ProcSet to gather, too rate, to even not comma with bile.

This is suicide note, she is not my life.

Thomas Kelly’s work has been published by Gauss PDF. He lives in Brighton.


Copyright © 2016 by Thomas Kelly, all rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of Copyright law. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the notification of the journal and consent of the author.