D&G&KRAFFT-EBING
masculine days of dumbfounded machinic reserve
an hour and a body wanting on animal street
oxycephalic wolves and someone sequencing meat
some father’s involution from pelvis to rough old they
a composition probably watching the horse
fish Hans’s little legs at 22 centimetres
a cock voice slightly enunciating that louse, a
zero-degree glabella prejudices the assemblage
by a there-type pronoun, my rhizome
meets all peepee sorcerers, glance vampires
lacking contrary heat, signifying that two-breast
stage becoming inverted etymology, ears
comb-hot as horse-whipped feline half touching
a narrow sexual falling, female, 43 centimetres, the it
sorcering between affective legs, straight
Hans takes immune waist between teeth, yet
the third is female with walnut and trace degrees
blotching toward purest enunciation: Hans’s
moon mons, forbidden orchid, remarkably
hermaphroditic cloud, a proper
who-horse haecceity wolfing child particles
our lovebit mode of the swarm or pack
ACKERSTEIN
The hotel is now, is really large trans squares. I glide to the final back room. Now the window is totally trans. I wanted a fur coat. There will be then a little description of the trans to another kind of living that then came to them. Your goal or job is trans you. You’re now a monster. They’re all Janeys. They’re all perverts, transsexuals, criminals. Their trans innocence is not an ignorance of the facts of life nor a puritan’s instinct indeed their desire is to experience the extreme forms of sensuous life and to make even immoral experiences their own. We’ll have to think of a plan to exterminate them and get a new breed of workers. By repeating the past, I’m molding and trans, an impossible act. To some spirituality and idealism have no meaning excepting as meaning completest intensification of any experiencing, any conception of trans experience has to some not any meaning. Around five p.m. each Wednesday we selected the trans prisoners. They was one clearly thinking clearly feeling and doing both very much and very often and that together made it that they was one needing in a way to be thinking everything to be a completed thing and in a way then they was not succeeding in being in living for then they came to be one making everything a pretty trans thing, a thing so clear that it is a sparkling thing, a thing so clear that it does not have beginning or middle or ending. In the eyes of this young Neutrøis, trans Villebranche is a dull Nazi officer, any it that could ever be existing in some way a really beautiful thing. The one it thinks trans it the most is the owl mask because tan and tawny fathers whose colors its cunt hairs make. Wasps the size of bumblebees and small red ants large red ants, the sun only reaching small sections of trans green wings. Grasshoppers and big black beetles destroy their lover or else trans their love into distaste or despair. The picture of love found in one of these clusters is forgiveness, that trans need, desire.
