"You don't make sense."

Language, words, grammar, are tools created by humans.
Sometime I construct sentences that do not make sense, simply because they sound pretty, or because the words create a sweet pattern, or they conjure up certain emotions in me.
Why shouldn't I?
I do not serve language. Language serves me. (us).
also sometimes, I feel throwing together random words in an incoherent mix creates an awesome base for blossoming creativity.

lethal sepals mutter snidely, imho.

here's a picture, I'm a being of feeling



[this is the project I did at the end of my Arts&Sciences program at Marianopolis college. it is a sculpture made of trash that does not look like much, but when you shine a light at it from the right angle you can see the image of a scruffy hen. this is somehow related to Oil Culture and The Day of the Locust by Nathanael West. if you want to read a 10 page essay on how these are related just ask...]