Of Absinthe and Asphalt

Wet green and feral demon beloved of great artists and poets alike such as horus8 and extra points for being french serge gainsberg charlotte gainsberg jaime zodiac i think not brian and as i run to escape the unyielding forumn of brianisms i slip and tumble upon asphalt shards of solipsisitic gestalt gestalt! well it parallels the puerile put downs barbed wit or maybe merely carbonated white dog shit? who said you were a poet anyway? my word it's hot in here where are you? ah i find you hiding beneath the vibrating hood where your gasolene eyes gently germinate my feet and under asphalt shards fall solipsistic lemondrops tumbling like so much pretentious bullshit metaphorical nonsense (not those fucking asphalt solipsistic shards again pal!) and psuedo rimbaud claptrap your ego trips...and stumbles oh this is fucking rubbish i mean really come on what fucking shite but at least i know it and as crowley said in one of his no doubt absinthe fueled moments know thyself and i can think of one or two who should take that pearl of wisdom on board eh now brian