Andi Zeneli

Born in the USA

Project Room 219 Ground Zero An awful belt outraged my neck ladder mouse, decorum of the estate. Thin towers wore the girdle of fire the hair of smoke made them tall

The plane had a mind of its own I didn't risk my striped skin to save others could not change the course of the attack whiskers and I landed on four feet

The feline government praised me blue dogs stripped their badge removed their hats and cleaned my fur goat milk they handed to me

I lived. Many paintings died and walls I can still see their torn dummies horses that Da Vinci never saw a leg here, an ear there and a head.

Gold mouse was the frost medal they gave me for jumping from the 12th floor didn't think - was the magazine hunter praetorian was the unlucky cat

Project Room 220

You weren't worried about leaving me, were you? So get up and let the crab sunset

send you backward to the mellow sunrise warming the wet army boots of dead soldiers Life without limbs is like fishing without a net Knock the head off my darling sweet sloped shoulders while the torchlight of a dim bug beckons to mow a haystack you know it alright to upgrade a sandal into a shoe it's not a shame to be seen barefoot near the sea Why does fear feed on the marrow of a gun? Medals those breast implants inside the puzzled officer Whatever stage you need to build inside a bookstore I am not singing to imprisoned books war is a country it exports a disciplinary narrative I could never get you to try another village say, my Greenwich? I love my old meridian. All right, well, let's just say a stitched wound comes and eats every last crab from the Middle Ages on the planet. That's a true story. Would you just stop walking backwards? I think I could find the low tide. I love snake recoil cowardice architecture cloud retirement horn retraction bison retreat Wives hate it Roman archives say it will kill you. Yeah, I heard about that. Darts love their holey magazines. Yes, they do. You weren't worried about piercing me, were you?

Project Room 221

My redhead secretary So tanned a body with so red a head. so rust 'n a needle, so new the thread so quick a lightning, so long the sound forget-me-nots rot on the ground. Why can't a shoe fiddle with dust and the laced nerve's stomach fast lost nicknames get their passports and tamed fish hide in human ports? so wet a cheek so dry the hair so small a cub so large her share so low the den so tall the pride to sail to reefs where love can hide why ship is born to have a journey to leave behind divorce, attorney why horses need to have a horn why can't you call me unicorn? so young the shoe so old the skin so bright the hat, my brows so dim go get the door, another guest the cask is open, just let me rest!

Project Room 222

Am I interrupting anything? Mm, no. Around, all around, the drum's memories gather. grasping at native straws My levelled field grows as doom's scythe falls against my curtains. It smites the day of reckoning, and darkly pulls the chain, blood drips to the barren land. In a haze of shock I flee while lucky stars hover close. Now alone, my apron falls upon bleeding eyes. This is because of your hat breathing under the hammer You're lucky I'm still up bleeding for air and I'm all alone.

Project Room 223

How's it going (remembering again all the places and people in your dreams)? They invented something called executive insulation. I also have some dew from the prohibition era

That ought to keep me busy drawing lonely branches for a few nights. I run a few bat dreams (day dreams when bats sleep) where sunrise and sunset meet Does that flying dance mean what I think it means? Because I'm familiar with most of your legs. But I have seen your wings I'm having a situation with my feather account. You really are here to fly. The Bird Commission is cracking down on all of our health claims. What I had actually seen of them, and what others had told me. I get Cry Digest. This is the same scare I had the day I was born I dealt with it. and I know I slept a lot better knowing crocodiles weep.

Project Room 224

Trees have their work cut out to hide the signs of ageing. One source tells us that when the river died the stubborn echo led her friends to imitate the cries of a waterfall at his funeral because the snake of life was fond of such sounds in his life. Well, that's just it.

The whole safer canyon thing is over. No more rocks, no more testimonials, no more cough free, soothes your smile zone, low-mud, low-log, filter dam. Nothing. All I have is crush proof bulb and four out of five eels put their tongue out Is this the part where I say, the electrical chair is the greatest throne ever and its big, strong legs will find a way to row the sheep to the other side of the river?

Project Room 225

Watch that menu of cactuses. Memories tend to stick to his fingers. Nostalgia can get at the sheep avoiding the vigilance of the shepherd and his dogs. I don't want to go to the farm tomorrow. You are going to introduce your healthy leaves to me or not? Mirror, I'm serious. I have nothing. I am old and fir cheerleaders are finally going to know it. Next time you see me, there'll be a bunch of young cactuses picking post-its off my shirts.

That's a pretty ironing picture. What's your island's secret? Nine different ways to let the coconut dive Just wait till I lay hold of that fishing pole. I'm ready to catch a huge prize. The funeral party was not much. Nothing but juice and cookies. Roast pork, mashed potatoes, stewed tomatoes, cottage cheese Watch that menu of cactuses. Memories tend to stick to his fingers.

Project Room 226

I envy pigeons they feed on rice and diamond crumbs a carbon copy of Indian beads knocking at your front door they are from a bottomless pit Street repairs after the feast no matter how many hats the gentlemen shovel into the hole there's always a need for more. I love the veil of your spider nails I have seen them at church ceiling I should get married to an iron species I think she'd make a good ex-wife. I could take over her business. and hold her metal bag You don't mind when my cohort butterflies come over. What size canon does your window take? You know the rules. I don't make war plans, then I don't make breakfast. Pigeons are having chewing gum and cereal in an hour

and I have nothing.

Project Room 227

People love collecting glasses, skeletons. There's nothing that you, the acid of perfumes, or Mosquito Digest can do to change that. There's this insect which comes by my office every day, looks where he's going to put his plants. Is he handsome? No heart, no spirit, no skeleton Just Youth! and wings! Let the dead envy his world People love pouring honey on the piano then lick it tremors shake the flower I hope clean water has reached its building those not obsessed with the salvation of the bubbling sun might argue its still early, that much can happen, that a brick soap is waiting around the summer corner. People love tattooing their skin vaccination against love it is contagious Uh, not right away. Pal, could you take the long needle way up? I am really enjoying the ice bath here. You going to insect's bachelor party? Yeah, I want to be there before they tie

a chameleon around his neck and drag him out to the ploughed fields.

Project Room 228

I want the jade named 'horse brain' because it is shaped like the brain of a horse that fished for knight compliments I hear the arrow landed on a green lawn Eh, who wants that? Why did you keep that glass bow in the cellar? Old wine will probably be assigned to one of our tables. Male blood will know what it's in for. You got to let them know what kind of stone you are. Then they'll know what kind of horse to be. I want the jade named 'ass brain' because it is shaped like the brain of a donkey Flies have a feeling they won't be going to your wedding soon. Yeah, well, compared to Sigmund Freud, I'm not married. Ambitious travellers have big ears. Excuse me. Is god's psychoanalyst expecting you? He's not expecting anything.

Oh, honey, don't worry. I'll get to paradise safely. I want the jade named 'mule brain' because its shape does not correspond to the brain of a donkey nor does it the brain of a horse I'm stuck at the inn I have an important shipment right now, so why don't you go hunting or something? Take your knight to lunch. Tell him it was my idea. The weather seems good. It's just a bachelor party, dear. No, I really don't know what the oasis had planned, but judging from the size of fruit around here, we'll probably end up seeing a hallucination.

Project Room 229

If I was a giant I would use ship cup to drink my tears Don't know why the worm makes the tequila more potent words and worms aim at my ear worthless pennies to block the gates it's a bit long in the tooth I would farm my coin on a fountain pool wishes would come off their horses and drink with me

If I was a giant I would drop by the cave on my way home. I'll tell you what. snails could check under my fingernails. Of course I like secrets. I'm giving up my life to be with an obese cloud, aren't I? What a great gal. Why don't we have electrical babies. she stole my white lies. And her chair is loaded. Now, this is the ants' floor. It should be organized, but it's not, so you'll find promises of grain and hopes of bran all mixed in together. Please don't ask me the difference. If your mound follows giants' lead you can avoid some of the mistakes those flat hills have made here.

Project Room 230

Hello, slogan. Your pyjamas are worth fighting for. Like that skunk stripe Running from the top of your head to your back. So how many roosters did it take you? Only one, but I got up very early. In a couple of mornings, with the right moves, you'll be in the village with the rest of us. Of course, if you really make the right moves, you'll be out in the country, and you won't be singing at all.

Hello Slogan. the last crowd to plumb Shine all the time. For every sunshine. You'll be here, just across the river. We'll both take care of the bridge I don't know what your goals are, but don't overdo it with the perfumed tail. Keep a fifth of sunshine in your skin. Forget arbitration that drinks from a warrant. Also, invest in buttons' vault, airborne lamps, a needle and thread. The respirator is thrifty, right? You better find out. Even the sun may act like he wants a secretary, but most of the time, owls are looking for something between a virgin mother and an empress. And the rest of the time, well... nests. Hello Slogan. Go to the cradle trenches, take a child's wreath, Cut the flowers out of it. Put it over your head, Bear a suitcase like a cross And look at yourself in the wet asphalt. Really evaluate where your hair is, and look where the footprints lead you. I always try to leave tracks. Good for you. Now, try not to be overwhelmed by all the duck tape. It looks complicated, but the thugs who designed it made it simple enough for a victim to use. I sure hope so.

Hello Slogan. At lunch, pick up a pair of boots, a dozen shells, and an apple. I'll explain later. Thank you, Miss Death. You're really wonderful for looking out for me this way. It's Eve. And listen, don't take this the wrong way, but a cowboy like you, with those darling little guns, I'd find a belt to make them holstered. Also, bulls love scarves. You look a bit won. Long night? It's not this duel thing, is it? It's been on my mind. Yeah, well, I should hope so. Jesus, his father, the whole trinity will be here at eight. You worried? No. If I was worried, I'd ask you what a slogan is, but I'm not, so I'm just going to assume you mean something, which means you should be worried.

Project Room 231

The yoke dilemma standardizes the disguised cake. The ageing candle allies the synthesis of wax and sugar without the picked ingredients

of mists and blackouts. Just an overlap of the camouflage and the soldier or colour crashes? The groom discusses a warped night next to an elected cuckoo whose twisted neck partitions a trap. The midnight possesses the dying hour counterpart of the eternal pill. Shoulder to shoulder, The bubble has been pricked Nobody knew its age, Soap of Youth! You nectar of the bath sweet when I share your chain with others. My dew mandate wins the crowd of mud. Frost coats the leaf with precious hydrogen. The fortunate rhythm inhabits the coal of night outside the discrete fame. Battlements are filled with wedding ghosts. When can an activating theory compose above each substitute psalm? Heart surgery is as expensive as a wedding When it binds together two threads of gold. Oxen also age together And the lucky one who survives the ploughing profession, Through steep and slippery furrows, will let us spread the secret of their youth!

Project Room 232

Born in the USA In countries where night is the sky deaf humidity

The element is still a desire of the war My helmet doesn't have rocks in its head It is just heavy So the flag came here because it wanted me to get dressed? The country wanted to make sure I was here. Give me about a half hour to enjoy the independence Have we ever hired any shadows? Not on my watch. That's very funny. It's not what I meant. We've got the shade of a pencil. That won't work. Sorry. Most of the shadows work for the conspirators of archaeology. Yeah, I know. Selling artefacts and antics to art collectors. That earring is very good. It's just that our violin strings are playing at Christie's a fine art auction house and I wish we had someone to make them feel auction-able Want me to run to rooftop and grab a wondering banker? I see you missed a button. No that's just a bullet peep hole and the chess red stains I probably have to send the coat to the dry cleaners. Have you found my wig yet? I have send for the Indians to scalp somebody. They might be here any minute. Too much traffic, I guess.

Project Room 233

Can I see another home crew And not be seasick? I must apologize to the ladder without oral floss. Don't put the foot wrong brute strength of impersonal vintage vertigo space within the plate porcelain stereotype. Outside the ladder succeeds a deaf post tied to sleeping bikes Frost mutters against a wet event. Frost scratches behind a custom. flesh discriminates blue inked skin the ladder rests from the climbing story. Jump, swimsuit directive. retired divers breed swimming pools I sign the pledge of statistics I defend rocks that inherit crags I shake hands with gears and hang the cost of resemblance on a masked door I burn a bridge to light a cigarette and slip the butt between the insect fragments I swim with the luggage and the right-hand dog I am the captain of a drooping suitcase the cost of life will plummet with the ship. Can I fold another towel and not become homesick?

Project Room 234

Sapling cross I plant and stretch arms to claw my way to the rope find the curls of chaos in the scheme of things powder cheeks from a shotgun wring the neck of the sacred udder boil those billiard balls wolf a country holiday outside the den pour rose petals on the fireplace keep the rooster on steroids give the blind an eagle and money start the slow crusade I mean yoke liberate the owners from their dogs break water and strangle an oar at birth jar an intact dead placenta the commission of ivory vine and its propaganda creator breeched inside the questioning forecast while an overhead alias equips its matrix near the stake whose sticking envy divines the horror in the personal outcry. The common tumour tutors my healthy cells An unstable flavour cubes my ice liaison into a linguistic, academic pasture. The flute causes that I, an unfounded musician come out as shepherd between the explosives. How does the ladder swing and have no tail? chambers and an oil painting fires at my harsh squad. The forgetful voter stalls the election of a booklet. A bible swears the advantage of reading over the absolute sharing of ointment oil at massage parlour that I'm visiting I am very religious and I can prove it.

Project Room 235

Ah. Look at you, Roman aqueduct. Still trying to fill out the trousers of a telescope drainpipe? Summer's coming. Without the arrows, all we have is a white board with a red spot on it. My neighbouring apple posed for that. Believe me, apples always look very relaxed. Of course, they don't sit on top of heads. Had a plum once hold a snake blue stethoscope around the neck. If I know the model fruit, you're better off with pineapple archives. Can you give me the kernel in a bathing suit, put it next to ice? A beaked mammal? I can do that. Give you a chance to get a real bird. Oh, I love my cage. Speaking of fake birds, are you going to penguin's bachelor party? It's so embarrassing. If a wife is going to run away after childbirth I want the sun to be alone so his life can mean something. Should we hatch the egg before the meeting or after? Or both? So that's it, huh it takes a village to plant a seed? Relax? Don't play the farm with me. You're the bankrupt telescope. I thought this starry night was worth a try.

Project Room 236

The Greek skirt crises My toes whittle their top ivory eyes now I can see under your skirt's posterity respected master bundles a mnemonic gift with a forgetful nurse Rummaging among these petrified needles inveterate enemy of those cheeks invertebrate pillows read the sliced newspaper ham My toes' grief keys breach the printed trap. Wall scholars feed mice with their erudition and a swarm of yoghurt problems. My toes a hole plant myself with oil sprinkle it. removed organs that like snails climb on a jar and drink canned water from two horns My toes whittle their top ivory eyes now I can see under your skirt's cello It's great honour, then, for my monument to rise from such an instrument above a public square and in the fountain lived a certain water carrier the Olympic torch Soldier, take off your your amputated leg and sit underneath a conscious (Greek) country where (Greek) worms still smoke and cough.

Project Room 237

New parents Sewing guides ask lots of questions Sometimes they struggle even to eat Proper bicycles hang in their saddles to satisfy their camel feet Can we grow hearts on a farm? How a tooth fairy prosthesis create? When exactly will a Jesus come? Will he be a smith or a pirate? I thought back to my caravan days When questions I had asked Were resolved quickly by my guide It was easy in the desert's maze So I smuggled papers out of paradise of adopted parents I hardly knew When asked Why did you hire us I replied 'cause I need a younger crew!

Project Room 238

Your 'gator said you loved to play

When you were chewing cud On your bike or making plans to redecorate hooves with pens scattered in a blank fog Your gazer said you loved to play When you were hot You loved each twist Out in the fog with the rocks Showing off, comparing faces I know that you love to play When we moist the edges and argue with a wall No chewing gum, fog rhapsody But painting games, just you and me

Project Room 239

Note: There is a Genie in everyone of us that inspires and grants wishes to bacteria to do good. Bacteria just grew, kind of a mutation I thought I was reading my magazine under the microscope I realized I live in a nation where little things still have hope. I wore my gloves to shake hands then strew dog food on the floor I hid a needle behind my back an apron I wore

with stains made amends then put on flat shoes to hide my tracks Bacteria ignored my breathing soul she ate her soup from a flat dish then she dived into an empty bowl stared at me with her single-eye-body and told (the giant) a wish.

Project Room 240

I don't like the way the lightning closed the door pump out the air I won't listen to the departure or arrival noise the sun has no weather baggage still it's going down the reef has no lungs yet its sponge breathes with fish wind has no arms but her palm slaps beauty in the face roses have no feelings still we camouflage ourselves love soldiers I don't like the way mosquito's sugar poured passion into coffee that entered my blood I am educated not to throw plastic (cup) of tomorrow into the mud.
http://andizeneli.blogspot.com/2012/06/born-in-usa.html