Tuche & Automaton

Thursday, September 07, 2006

the status story of jimmy

invariance on a lifeless shining sigh.  ummu-hubur stalling... ki... lifebed.  

And son-lord standing on life-mom's ass,
with his ruthless bat he smashed into her skull.
cut through channels of her blood,
scattered to the boreal wind to unknowns.


At 11:04 PM, Blogger phaneronoemikon said...

its weird, "jimmy" was the name
my friends and I used in High-school to signify a sort of more
or less average anonymous joe,
sort of like the way i've used joe
just now, but tinged with a bit more disdain and sarcasm which involved our own relative smallness
and insectoid absurdity transferred to another without their knowing it. we also used a specific voice to say the name. not sure why i'm saying this,
but this title for me brings up the question of private meaning
and such like.

the poem reminds me of an image
that was described to me as a teen-ager as well. it was supposedly an image stamped on a nepalese hash brick (ball?) of an evil Santa Claus with one reindeer and giant club, which i suppose could come from the grinch, or maybe vice-versa.

good one NF.


At 7:03 AM, Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

a certain sinister charm that wears a dark smock coat


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