198. dumb eels eloped in snacking roofers, forty

thing, i mean he, i mean it, was up-stringed,
and jack let off loose his ripping on-wreaking — 
first the gorilla was spit roasted till the
hair was all singed and blood-letted, chilled, and

alternately boiled in a beef — 
stock, i mean, beefs are too solid, and steamed,
struck with a mallet, fed to a cat, and
the dust that was left was mixed up with sand, if

you think that’s excessive, gorillas express a
singular drive to come back together — 
for no matter how small jack pounded, the mol-
ecules instinctively start to re-call

re-form, first in pieces, in organs, in-squeezing,
shoulders and lips would pop into being — 
you never quite know if gorilla dust smoke
concentrations are high enough to re-compose

and still there’s these eyes that are forty feet high
roaming the streets waiting for sliced (up)
rippers to read them the final, repeating
“beware of the eyes of marching pulp eating

high holiness (this goes on a bit)
squash bouncing boulders of rippers rejected
complex carbohydrate, pool cues, not primates” — 
it gets pretty stupid cause eyes aren’t primed with

i mean with no brain they kind of fixate
on whatever they see, or whatever they ate,
and having ingested all that what was left of
the ripper base ripped up they suddenly set on

jack, who to fight this advance of the eyes
left old good mark goodman to come back alive
in bandages blue, and mostly just juices,
but gradually got with the help of some glue, and

gas, and the gaffer tape re-attaching
body parts breaking, falling in mats, for
spleen, say, some of them gorillas in dust from
a long time ago, ground up by others