Justin Hall's personal site growing & breaking down since 1994

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A new poem composed for Justin on twenty-third birthday
December 16th, 1997:

Justin the just
Justin the wonky jabberwocky
Justin the jocky on the cybernetic steed
nuzzling close to the muzzle, whispering coarse lover's commands
Into the nautiline ear of the pacing beast
Gripping tight the reins with veins bursting from brains
Matching fat arterial fetlock mazes disappearing into sweatsoaked
bandages and tape like socks
A noose of loose wires
A catalogue of sliver spires
Aspiration, Conspiration and Respiration
Sussurations of the blood mad at work on the MUD.
My name is mud, the man of golden mud
Earth with life
Dirt's unfortunate date with consciousness.
We were supposed to meet?
Yes I was to bring you weltschmertz and ennui and joie de vivre and
you were to bring me an erection?
Table five is right this way.
Spinning vortex meet winning cortex
Angelic Justin with his hallowed halo of play dough
Writing children's books for grown-ups.
The vicarious vessel! How many thousands
live through you, Chesty old boy?
Fucking your girlfriend; a lot is riding on that dick.
Avid readers sit poised to know length of intercourse
duration of orgasm,
whether you spied phantasm or if phantasmagoria
is part of the story. They can meet me
and all your rotten retinue, and then in a frenzied click
of tremulous mouse they abuse themselves while
pictures of naked teenagers being double-teamed by faceless
swordsmen are interrupted halfway.

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