Stephen Kirbach

p
from QUITS


1

that's why I want to call it some thing said to a dog.

that's why I want to call it quits.
that's why I want to call it some thing said to a dog.

here quits.

call that beginning as an example of some thing which gets called forced to speak English.
I want to return to a question never initially known.

forced to speak English I find myself speechless.
forced to speak English I find myself speechless.


2

come here quits.
come here quits.

quit coming.
quick, quick, come here and quit.

I become confused by one conflicting command.
quit coming, and quit coming quick.  count the commands as they quickly conflict.

told to do so, so I invariably refuse, not having that snap repartee so natural to native speakers
when forced to speak English.  I want to return to a question called verb which masquerades as a muscle.

say that that stands as an imperfect example of objective beseeching smirk, a guy who tries to act presidential  despite
his innate deficiencies.

call that calling a dog.  it sticks within an English continuity.  having never set foot in Britain, it fetches a stick.
it may or may not have anything to do with genital friction, though that must for the moment remain wholly abstract.

forced to speak English I relinquish my autonomous shaman.
the question we have to ask is whether we should develop the technology for forcing speech.

someone slowly crushed under a heavy stone, thunderstruck at the site of my breasts, births a new word.

showing this word as always an accident, it isn't next.
come here whenever it subsequently quits.

I want to call that a disorder, one word failing to follow another and thus implicating the English proficiency exam

as arboreally amiss.  I mean really, to call it here, quits.


3

even an English specialist calls it slash blank and infinitively quits.  lacking all required credentials,
I want to return to a question called show me state.

acceptance of the boundaries (as these customarily come under sneak attack), many of which remain unreal, inevitably
leads
to a resurgence of corporate power and societal intolerance.

working in the library, we often witness the gruesome physiological details of various patronymic grammatical
syntactical torture routines.

an explanation is in order.  how do these be dealt with as infractions?
someone slowly crushed under a heavy stone, for instance, cannot at once remember his vital statistics, and thus his
non
English anguishes fracture.

call him a lowest uncommon denominator.  call me one who seeks to upset the social order, born unable to speak
English when, even
babies must be immediately deported under this it is the knew law.

he might mistake himself anyway for someone he isn't.  he becomes thus an inventive captive.  he bleeds an alien
tongue
and spits out an ample behooving new

ow hmm n wnn gahn ah ah ah
be heewigim knee ginee ohm ohm umbunna ohm um umbunna ohm an
ample ample how is it how ism how is it how ism how ism bandana bone knee mountain flex an old anglicist.

it being thereby proven that he needs to  retake the exam.  I hanker anyway to be known as an angular angler.

physiologically crushing by clearly displaying the speakable profile of one notable near-death visionary and her
corporeal uncommon but,
slowly crushing witch doctor as a test of proficiency is not what I think of as linguistically sound.

I want to return to a question but name myself after an odd mannerism instead, plucking at ear hairs, for example,
though
this isn't it.


4

something someone might trace, such that that might contain and so mask a disorder at heart, sincerely pretending,
I want to return to a question, but name myself after an odd mannerism instead,

not knowing whatever that is.  not knowing whatever that is, I will no doubt emerge subject to deportation or lockup.
describe that as an operation in technical terms as a departure from what we might ordinarily call English.

telling the self to keep his name secret, he comes under bureaucratic suspicion.  speak for yourself
I am told.  clearly, he being a fake shaman who calls himself lunatic flack, he comes under suspicion anyway while
allowed to continue a jesus please practice.

I depict this as a pose but it isn't perfect.  I want to heat up a planet.

I might respond with an okay but lack the ability to do so.  this means cannot, having failed yet one other proficiency
exam.
forced to speak anguish I find my infinitive speech selfless.

ask about a noble sacrifice.  the guy crushed by a rock becomes a marketable essence.  cork it.
bottle his broken English for the american consumer who anyway buys anything.  cork it and sell it.

cap it, and give it away as a prize to one who manages to pass another English proficiency exam.
having never set foot in angle land, having never stretched hence a black shadow,

I want to return to a question called how.
forced to speak English I find my mind sluggish.

that's why I want to call it quits.
that's why I want to call it some thing said to a dog.


5

that's why I tend to return to

thump on a dead man until he recuperates as a native straight speaker, wherever and whoever he is, having never set
foot in England.
crush him, and crease him, and hammer him tidy.  dress him professional then fling him into a verbal sewer so

badger him into swimming.  fling him into a garden constructed of plastic, and therein permit him to browse.
send him into a city with grammar which struggles against an innate fascination exerted thus by state
mandated forms of expression upon his viable ass.

I want to return to a question.  I want to interrogate a dog until it facilely speaks in a coastal Elizabethan parlance.

I sink that cur into the sink.  I strap it to a board, push it under the water, and bark out a command.  speak.
I want to return to a question but can't manage the crack.

explain the following spelling:  w-i-s-e-a-c-r-e.  explain speaking English become now a rule and how that might lead to
resentment.
explain anything stupid.

explain anything, stupid.
explain to me please an intellectual position.  I arrive finally at a political insider topic otherwise known as glottal cock
friction
corporate non person and define that in terms of president x.

speaking in English, someone says suck something unspoken since.
it isn't an option under the terms of the written English proficiency exam.  I know cause I rode it.

someone might say to say that, that that's out of order, and then switch to Latin
spoken chicken wit after the rain in a rural tableau while disguised as a doctor.  I want to return to a question called
exploratory

surgery.  I want to call myself doctor of English and cut myself open.
I want to strap myself with explosives and celebrate critical mass as a theory of understanding yet an unwritten text.

that's why I want to call a dog quits.  I want to say something, stupid.

I want to say something stupid and return to a uterine zoom.
I want to borrow some trillion dollars in paper ones, purchase to suckle upon a venereal wound,
set the remainder

alight, and then whisper this as an example of fiscal success.
I want to call that a word I swiftly forget and so thwart an imprecise aptitude with rash discontents.


6

forced by senator if to speak English, I want to choke one president x with two thousand plus glooms and then call it
quits.
I want to orchestrate a daily confusion within a corporate infection known as the bottom line.

I want to throttle one president x until he turns blue and replies, at which point
I rip off his eyelids and feed these to an underage dog.

that's why I intend to call something quits, masquerade as a template called digital tit, provoke dead president x to rise
newborn a babe
(having those vocal powers), born again as he is into a family which speaks only Tohono O'odham and living thus upon
the under side of a line.

forced by senator if to speak English, I want to lash the hide of one president x with a syphilitic whip and
return to a question called moaning.

forced again (and again) by senator if to speak English, I plow into one president x at high speed with a Buick thereby
dispersing him
organically all over the highway as newly made smithereens, that being made beautiful then by the force of his
straightforward hey,

his unswerving opposition to all which simply exists.  this
is a catch phrase known as progress.

having failed an English proficiency exam, I tend to turn to a question called choking the chicken.
forced by senator if to speak English, I call it progressively quits.

that's why I want to call it some thing said to a dog, a template abridgement of what passes for diction, and
falsely disguise that as a shaman.

I intend to promote myself as a phony and intend also, at some future date, to resurrect dead president x as a minnow,
despite having failed the English proficiency exam.

building upon a pervasive mental disorder otherwise known as shop, I intend to inject one president x into a subjective
dynamic and subsequently finesse that as an extension of what is commonly referred to as some inner an other English.

I cite that anyway as a talent for twisting the terms of my text lacking answers, plainly, a handy jack flunky, since, in the
long run,
having failed, as one might suspect, an English proficiency exam, I declare myself a derivative and an insipid intruder.


7

only in this as an asking around which it words twist, it isn't this is it if when wonder I wont what to ask.

I hanker to return to a question calling country it isn't.
since he looks so much like a rooster while seeming to lack as much sense, president x isn't if.

forced to speak English, I intend to return to a question called smirk.  is this a mask

or if it isn't.
I intend to return to phenotypic plasticity and
an unchecked drive to heat up a planet.
I intend to return to a question called imprison percentage mirror.

I tend to return to a question called imprison percentage minor sexual stew.  it isn't an option.
I hanker to call this verbal proficiency exam turn then to question another representative tend.
I am inventing a verbal proficiency exam known as taking off his or her shirt.

I want to return to a question called uncommon tend.
I want turn to a question called regurgitate text interpret it quits.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stephen Kirbach (a shameless verbal google whore) peddles his writing from Asheville, NC US.  More specifically, he lives at the foot of Chicken Hill, a real place known hereabouts by that epithet, and above the French Broad River.  To append a
disclaimer, this river name is NOT a pejorative meant to designate a foreign woman.

 

 

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