Test Ting Won To Tree
By
Charles Fleischer







Rifleman decal water is to Tiny basket liners as Strained yo-yo string is to?
Dark wool glowing is to Oldest lost oddity as First genetic engine is to?
Black quail taint is to Nut curdled paint as Hemp biscuit dominoes are to?
Steam traced paper is to Lemon ash vapor as Digital ****** wig is to?
Eccentric brine mimes are to Electric silk slacks as Spark formed lava is to?
Sunchoked black hornets are to as Rescued orphan doves as Retold cat jokes are to?
Hand traced videos are to Braided rubber spines as Opal rain dancers are to?
Halogen anchor gong is to Annoying bread portraits as Soft bracelet lockers are to?
Old troll bios are to Select cherub echoes as Broken matchstick parasols are to?
Dome nine chariots are to Frayed lunar remnants as Fuming honey flasks are to?
Bluing assault operas is to Beading fluted flowers as Magnetic lawn tweezers are to?
Converted flea sponges are to Floating dog murals as Frozen Archie comics are to?
Molded road pads are to Crusty gumdrop thread as Straw ribbed pelicans are to?
Inflatable diamond vowel is to Single gender raffle as Groovy desert coffee is to?
Temporary solution radiation is to Idiotic witness mumble as Motorized marshmallow kit is to?
Panoramic utopian paranoia is to Aggravated **** silhouettes as Unhinged gun sellers are to?
Homesick ghost pajamas is to Virtuous fly fungus as Royal sandpaper gloves are to?
Gangster hayride tickets are to Deer milk Oreos as Turnip fairy maps are to?
Glue gun **** is to Nocturnal cabin mice as Cab fare corn is to?
Speckled fish nickels are to Under water bric-a-brac as Epic snakeskin paisley is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Raunchy snail kimono is to Coiled time dice as Smeared equator malt is to?
Metallic centaur franchise is to Transparent cheese chess as Spotted glacial remnants is to?
Sky fused pong is to Rustic mothers brattle as Granulated canister ointment is to?
Overgrown maze mule is to Mated smugglers hugging as Floating thesaurus exam is to?
Sliding coed sprinkler is to Soapy whitefish rebate as Precious lamb diaper is to?
Mushy acorn luster is to Lilac protein rings as Slapstick wrestler dialect is to?
Freaky plankton bells is to Rolling horse divorce as Morphing morphine lips are to?
Sticky razor sparkle is to Emerald muscle spasm as Glaring cat cipher is to?
Peppy unisex mustache is to Pelican fighter syndrome as Clumping night grumble is to?
Scanning paired pearls are to Ruby rubbed roaches as Satanic sailor flotsam  are to?
Glowing asteroid solder is to Ideal shark data as Failed frail doilies are to?
Numb nuts boredom is to Fantastic icy phantoms as Sporadic silk creations is to?
Crooks crow chow is to Loading spackled bonder as Gargled snowdrop blasters are to?
Outdid myself today is to Outside myself again as Outlived myself controls is to?
Venting shuttlecock upset is to Texting badminton kitten as Settler tested motels are to?
Prepare paired vents is to Prefer paid events as Pretender predicts fiction is to
Crunchy mental fender is to Catching mentor menace as Poorly seasoned lettuce is to?
Outside sidewalk inside is to Seaside outcast input as Sideways landslide victory is to?  
Compile fake password is to Compost world poo as Compose village anthem is to?
Crooked crotch blunder is to Loud crowd thunder as Divine vine finder is to?
Chucks’ wooden truck is to Bucks good luck as Sticky ducks tucked is to?  
Overhaul underway overseas is to Overturned downsized pickup as Underground onramp overloaded is to?
I’ll bite there is to Aisle byte their as Isle bight there is to?
Gnat gnawed wrist is to ***** show beans as See through putty is to?
Flapping floppy guppies are to Buzzing zipped dozers as Muddy ****** strippers are to?
Dark diagonal dialogue is to Diabolical dihedral die as Interesting circadian exposition is to?
Experimental flossing expectations are to Waxed dental traps as Permanent impermanence resolution is to?  
Outran ringside intrigue is to Sidetracked onboard boatload as Loaded firearm topside is to?
Phony ****** phone is to Chewy ego honey as Yogi Mama’s dada is to?
Nimble teardrop squiggle is to Humble cage curtains as Loyal truckstop morals are to?
Torching curled elastic is to Sonic neighbor clamor as Golden droplet integers are to?
Duplex pupil scanners are to Nacreous cloud clocks as Shrouded flute shops are to?
Lawn rocket tendrils are to Finding surreal borders as Sheep monarchs children is to?
Gloating ungloved squires are to Busting double doubters as Pushing woeful doctors are to?
Tricking snowbelt firedogs is to Panmixing blackened haywires as Unclothed shameful leaders are to?
Malicious ranch ritual is to Internal puppet bubble as Ornate underworld masquerade is to?
Rustic debonair Eskimos are to Mindless sassy elves as Gorgeous somber acrobats are to?
Learned earthy pimps are to Fearless sneaky Queens as Somber gentle vagrants are to?
Shocking horse wear is to Glossy sled fluid as Damaged chipmunk tongue is to?
Traditional agony chart is to Damp voodoo motel as Backwoods museum quote is to?
Magical cat cabin is to Dapper porpoise humor as Malicious graveyard foam is to?
Therapeutic gazelle cushion is to Stored alibi equipment as Stunning tempo light is to?
Fantastic rascal art is to Wasted prune dust as Jupiter’s ****** law is to?
Little nut razor is to Gigantic hyena shield as Hourglass pillow fever is to?
Coiled rain clouds are to Dizzy tycoon clowns as Lime eating cowards are to?
Possessive epicurean demonstrators are to Faded eavesdropping giants as Determined swanky drunks are to?
Aquatic preview pocket is to Soggy judicial topiary as Finicky hamster fabric is to?
Enlarged fruit cuff is to Obedient mumbling orchestra as Dark tenant tariff is to?
Recycled flash thermometer is to Botched temptation probe as Pet glider grid is to?
Seriously shy idols are to Costly driving perfumes as Ferryboat chapel wine is to?
Winged jalopy details are to Faithful spectral fathers as Sprinkled mint rainbows are to?
Spelling unneeded words is to Sprouting donut ***** as Blaming mellow mallrats are to?
Eroding loom keepsake is to Magnificent accordion canoe as ***** bongo fumes are to?
Souring violet ink is to Juvenile insult park as Periodic ferret envy is to?
Obedient boyfriend aroma is to Sanitized fat lozenges as Dramatic jailer garb is to?
Mysterious patrol group is to Dynamic maiden discharge as Captured hurricane ratio is to?
Lackadaisical bigot bingo is to Oblong care merchant as Expensive swamp shampoo is to?
Petite orifice worship is to Atomic barge pet as Plucked hair exhibit is to?
Elite officer wallop is to Automatic yard rake as Healing ****** glitter is to?
Needless swan costume is to Giant jungle goat as Organic picnic napkin is to?
Leaky jet steam is to Innovative fascist whistle as Enchanting idol evidence is to?
Plastic mascara seduction is to Greasy thermal ointment as Attractive muskrat crease is to?
Lucky camel pills are to White coral Torah as Eternal stage clutter is to?
Roasted oat **** is to Sloppy *** glue as Nylon table debt is to?
Steep nook catastrophe is to Empty dome damage as Pulsing breeze powder is to?
Empty sack power is to Hitched buck stroke as Red claw warning is to?
Ultra brief slogan is to Yummy lab mutant as Pathetic ball armor is to?
Nauseating fish splatter is to Obstinate ****** twitch as Strained ***** coffee is to?
Mezzanine intermission fossil is to Proven **** apathy as Golden duck shroud is to?
Civil tutors torment is to Thor’s posted theory as Yellow melon rain is to?
Immense olive raft is to Exploding kangaroo buffet as Ethereal witness index is to?  
Marching dark speeders are to Searing scribble fighters as **** tripping sinners are to?
Seeping viral angst is to Aged hermit tea as Murky bowl nibble is to?
Condensed blister guzzle is to Pink dorsal pie as Lavish speckled runt is to?
Needy insult poet is to Sedated acorn trader as Dry honey zoo is to?
Veiled trust flicker is to Deranged poser fashion as Flat sizzle tangent is to?
Purified diet spray is to Nebulous wishing target as Thrilling screen dope is to?
Majestic ribbon astronomy is to Bizarre formation sector as Rebel bell gimmick is to?
Sealed dart whisper is to Green silk draft as Cold vacuum varnish is to?
Clumsy raven power is to Insect island circus as Minted mink drapes are to?
Curved map ruler is to Tiny lethal radio as Blue fused metal is to?
Inverted laser invasion is to Damp sheep dump as Puffy gown smoke is to?
Saucy Channel blazer is to Leather goat filament as Starched locomotive hat is to?
Broken jumper leads are to Disgraced mini exorcists as Designer shamrock caulk is to?
Tweaked poachers smokes are to Assorted sulfur pathways as Collected bedlamp trickle is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Crawling battle worms are to Vibrating metal pedals as Mentholated matrix wax is to?
Missing meshed rafts are to Liquid rock pipes as Crinkled bean bikinis are to?
Tithing **** joggers are to Perforated buck fronds as Leather zither picks are to?
Fearing truthful cowards is to Rambling preachers mumble as Gazebo ambulance gasoline is to?
Shelving elder’s whiskers is to Poaching goalies pesto as Radical tricycle angst is to?
Mucky gunboat polymer is to Primeval maypole flameout as Cathedral greenhouse intercom is to?
Diaphanous safety prize is to Unleashed saucer lion as Dorky blonde ropewalker is to?
Tapered spring meter is to Silver silo mythology as Misguided judges medallions are to?
Alligator x-ray money is to Cherry unicorn water as Coyote cactus toy is to?
Cowardly dorm scrooge is to Atomized pewter script as Flattened spore smoothies are to?
Trash can yodel is to Flashing wired spam as Exploding chocolate pudding is to?
Sonar blasted bushings are to Threading ruined wheels as Forty shifting boxes are to?
Tiny balloon rebellion is to Softened square cleanser as Iconic soul sucker is to?
Harmony night light is to Spanish nitrogen desire as Squirrel cavern iodine is to?

Lazy winter secret is to Slow airport widget as Silly mustard binder is to?
Elephants raising raisins are to Microscopic lamb planet as Purple hay puppets are to?
Caribou venom vaccine is to Electronic lemonade choir as Demonic princess massage is to?
Beet coated bridge is to Fattened needle point as Mylar monkey spine is to?
Ashy ink dust is to Youngest rabbi planet as Orange cartoon geometry is to?
Cold green chalk is to Cobalt ladder farce as ***** river filters are to?
Sublime sheep master is to Sleeping past rapture as Subliminal bliss jelly is to?
Ocean crust slippers are to Twigged germ radar as Popping sharpie scope is to?
Zen wrapped beep is to Oak foamed code as Wicked flashing sizzle is to?
Dew eyed sleigh is to Say I do as Act as me is to?
Humpback on hammock is to Ham hocking hummer as Hunchback with knapsack is to?
Corned flag jelly is to Draped wing chewers as Tripping swan acid is to?
Futuristic Rembrandt chant is to Almond likened meadows as Asian timber blue is to?
Nap in sack is to Flap on Jack as Ducks dig crack is to?
Flowing flavored lava is to Gleaming optic layers as Enhanced goose gibberish is to?      
Flag tied pajamas are to Saline checker choir as Speed reading quotas is to?
Whipped spam spasms are to Misted shaman scripture as Testing pitched bells is to?
Cave aged eggs are to Crowded tiger cages as ****** wagon pegs are to?
Pigeon towed car is to a Man toad art as Wolf whisker wish is to?
Second hand clothes are to Minute hand gestures as Final hour prayer is to?
Slick wicked shavers are to Tricky watch boxes as Sprouting pine tattoos are to?
Waxed stick ravens are to Match stick foxes as Narrowed thermal towers are to?
Ice cave rice is to Laced face lice as Gourmet pet **** is to?
Diamond lane anniversary is to Space age appropriate as Time travel agency is to?
Lime bark violin is to Lemon twig guitar as Lunar sky waffles are to?
Fake rat **** is to Smart cake batter as Rugged fur tax is to?
Tarred raft fluff is to Flaked rafter dust as Lined liquor flask is to?
Flakes will fall is to Take Bills call as Broken maze compass is to?
First faked voter is to Entombed cartoon honey as Smallest aching smurf is to?
Fancy bared ******* are to Flaky fairy treats as Kings amp filter is to?
Bone window folio is to Whittled fake pillow as Little fitted jackets are to?
Nine nuts brittle is to Ate pear pie as Six packed poppers are to?
Incandescent playground pencil is to Elastic hand worm as Perfumed piano ink is to?
Opal shifting anode is to a Windup lion decoy as Pale paisley trolley is to?
Stacked black boxes are to Old packed tracks as a Throwing micron hammers is to?
Apricot bark furnace is to Merry Orchid Choir as an Ivory rinsing funnel is to?  
Narcotic honey nuts are to Slick flag toffees as Silk fig sugar is to?
Orange coin raisins are to Low note candies as Smelling balled roses is to?
Pocket packed monotints are to Tragic ladder hayracks as Ravishing speed traders are to?
Crayon spider resin is to Coral squirrel forceps as Wolf tumbled loaf is to?  
Silver wheat flies are to Width shifting wheels as Golden blister blankets are to?
Really tiny hippopotamus is to Masked fat podiatrist as a Sad sack psychiatrist is to?
Miniature Mesopotamian monuments are to Apple minted elephants as Raising wise ravens is to?
Lathered nymph nacre is to Sonic ion constellations as Concealed iron craft is to?  
Epic gene toy is to Ladies bubble sled as Jagged data bowl is to?
Bugged dagger bag is to Pop sliced meld as Atom bending moonlight to?  
Rural madam’s deed is to Dyed dew dipper as Eight sprayed dukes are to?
Jiffy grand puffer is to Floating altar myth as Vintage dark mirth is to?
Undercover overnight underwear is to Overpaid undertaker overdosing as Overheard understudy freebasing is to?

Black grape crackle is to Red cactus ruffle as Installing padded pets are to?
Snide snobs sniffing are to Sneaky snails snoring as Snared snipes sneezing are to?
Exploring explosive exits is to Explaining expansive exports as Expecting expert exchange is to?
Shrewd logic ledger is to Puppets dropping cupcakes as Placated topaz octopi are to?
Door roof tools are to Cool wool boots as Wood cooked root is to?
Bright fight light is to Night flight fright as Mites bite site is to?
Floor flood fluid is to Wooden door Druid as Nasty **** broom is to?
Accurate police photography is to Intelligent microbe geography as Condensed aerosol biography is to?
Cowardly cowboy grime is to Corpulent corporate crime as Bosnian dwarf necromancer is to?
Jell-O clearing shaker is to Brillo cleaning shiner as Cheerios bowling shields are to?
Mumbled mindless hokey is to Fumbled found money as Humming kinder bunny is to?
Daisy’s clock setter is to Lilly’s boxer toxin as Poodles rose paddle is to?
Watch Bozo Copernicus is to Hire Clarabelle Newton as Find ***-wee Einstein is to?
Amethyst thistle whistles is to Lapis pistol whip as Diamond bomb scar is to?
Dandelion seahorse rescue is to Crabapple dogwood farm as Faux foxglove lover is to?    
Optical poppy stopper is to Polar halo lens as Day-Glo rainbow sticker is to?
Savanna leopard spotted is to Eskimo lassos kisses as Alligator lemonade standard is to?
Bill of Rights is to Will of left as Thrill of night is to?
Baptize floozies quickly is to Useless outsized nozzles as Puzzled wizard wanders is to?        
Chaps wearing chaps are to Chaps contesting contests as Consoling concealed consoles is to?
Quiet squirming squirrels are to Aeon beauty queens as Queasy greasy luaus is to?
Knew new gnu is to Sense scents cents as We’ll wheal wheel is to?
Blazing zingers ringing are to Wheezing singers flinging as Freezing finger number are to?
Lamb tomb jogger is to Dumb numb **** as Thumbed crumb bug is to?

Blue accordion casket is to Jaded scholar ***** as German mushroom circus is to?
President George Flintstone is to Funny Fred Washington as Abraham Jetson’s dog is to?
Google Desmond Tutu is to Kalamazoo Zoo Park as Zodiac actors Guru is to?
Swamp cradled whisperer is to Cherished drawbridge cello as Bludgeoned prankster outlaws are to?
Dukes pink mittens are to Smeared nest carava

that's what ****** me off about western journalism,
there is a satirical newspaper in Poland,
there is a counter-culture,
but you obviously don't see it...
NIE is a decent newspaper,
    because it is satirical, but also serious,
at the same time...

  and there is anti-Catholic sentiment among
the people...
   i should know, my grandfather
was a communist party member,
   a strictly atheistic, humanistic,
secular upbringing -
              
   but when did nationalism die
in the western nations?
         16th century? 17th century?
you know... before nationalism morphed
into imperialism?
  obviously these post-nationalistic states
are looking at states that regained
their nation-state status like
**** sapiens looking at a bunch of
******* retards... sorry... neanderthals...

well... d'uh...
it's because the western states do not
understand the concept of a healthy nationalism,
oh a collective citizenry,
  of solidarity...
                   these days, anything right
of the center is... FAR RIGHT...
   there are fringe groups everywhere...
but you're talking about nations
that don't have the privilege of
   the imperialistic interlude...
instead: subjugation by other powers,
in the case of Poland... 3!
      
          maybe the western states just
don't know how to express a healthy
nationalism,
           maybe imperialism really
****** them up....
                    what?
   in H'america don't they call nationalism,
patriotism?
   last time i heard,
   i've been the subject of H'american
nationalism since an early age...
      cultural exports...
             more cultural exportation from
H'america than anywhere else...

/ interlude:

new additions to the jukebox
(and no, i haven't listened to these tracks
so even i don't know whether
i'm going to like them):

kokoroko - abusey junction
quantic - time is the enemy
lafayette afro rock band - hihache
gramatik - just jammin'
anthony brancati - neo-funk
savages - you're my chocolate
funky destination - the inside man
       (soopasoul remix)
kiasmos - looped
thurisaz - endless
LTJ - i don't want this groove to ever ends
low - lullaby
blonde redhesd - for the damaged coda

o.k. i knew this one already -
cymande - dove                               /

yeah... concerning
this:
the curious case of suzanna berlinsky

i can understand being blocked
for, incivility...
      but the Mongols really did sack
Moscow...
   and they had to traverse Siberia...
so...
             well **** me...
if i get blocked by someone for writing
such a comment,
as i wrote...
       just a **** shame...
   have to block them back...
    if anyone is available...
please tell suzanna berlinsky
   that's she an outstanding poet...
                  i would have liked to read all
of her works (yes, she is on this site).

What is so important to address
something to react to the illumine
fruity to their balance sips like
a goldmine
He sways passed you and trips
Rose Poumedeur right near your* lips

Both stumbling and boasting over her
imported wine dress

The swinging parasol his cork topped
delights
Those imported by his number nights
Cabernet Sauvignon
Hooked to there eyes
Million stars to lift
Her petite waistline
Like heartline of Valentine
wine felt dresses

Outnumbered you by four words
The strenuous tiresome love-wine
Be mine the stargaze* dazing inside the sunsets
So bottled inside her mission
His love how it aged in her
in  a good retrospect like
Deep cherry confessions

The import from a trade surplus
She got overlooked got flown in place
like a sticker
The smart star- reservation 
 high-demand book
To seek her

What a chemistry  love- hands creation
She's the many vintage dresses A plus
The pouring of wine of many fusions
The cloudy dress is a minus illusion

She learned her entire lesson
How many times she was moved
around like musical  I tunes of wine
CD collection of Rennaisance
Battling like the fort chair
But someone was moved by her Jazz
type of hair
My lesson my wish was on hold
the mission cruise of the impossible dress
Getting weaved inside someone's
powerful suite but the best suite
and stay
The Fort William Henry until this day
The Fort William Henry Hotel like no
other sorts and what sports

Japan imports 77.8 billion exports
more than imports
Lackadaisical called the
breath of sunshine
The daisy sundress sitting on the
veranda with Fort Williams and the
Henry the eight I am children

I've been sunbathing looking at the boat
The Minne Haha thinking of MaMa
Someone was singing like Lady GAGA

The matter of great expression of words
Hummingbirds at Lake George
Picking the best birth of seeds
Imported wine what our heart needs
Rising demands of the meat
like the paradise of lovebirds
Her dress was to heal the world
Those wildflowers were the
sort of thing silence is the  best thing
Somehow not the hype of the bling
or diamond ring
Sometimes the Goddess
sun shines more

Making her feel loved to sing
Her dress had the gimmick to move
What a rural fun tree orange grove
Like the referee wine shopping spree
Everyday people were moved by her
gift of imported wines
Her gravity of smiles he's mine
Her face steams like the highest
light beam very well bred and fine
The long winding trail her
corset gown
Started to make head waves to the
higher forces
So enlightening the lakes
such cascades
Those wine deep waves romantic
To prelude to a kiss the Cosmic
The Islander-border lace her face
To love and honor her more

Not necessarily less that
divine moment
We should never miss
Lake George rippling waves
On her outskirts

Princess Kelly cheese Italian wine
Naples deserts
The evergreen  long dress
Shined your Highness the
Roman pillars
How he grabbed her waist dancing
like the Gatsby
Gave her such splendor everlasting sip
But the imported wine was deeper

To Set up the date
To Make- the wine up
In the cellar aged hours to perfect
What a stir over her dress-up deep ruby
wine start to pour end
of a new beginning
subject
To book the trip Lake George New York
All you had to do

Go to the Fort William Henry
Hotel like a home with family
So many friendly faces with smiles
All you have to do is show up

The people have endured hardships for a while now. They have prayed and fasted for a better day but none has come. Prophesy has been given but has not been fulfilled. There have been moaning and groaning in every heart, in every home and in all the streets. Tyranny and misrule have become the trademark of the Mugabe rule. Finally our hope is at an end and our patience faded. It is time for a new Zimbabwean renaissance!
Zimbabwe does not belong to a few, it is not an aristocratic organisation. No one inherited the birth right to the white house. No one person is entitled to the presidency alone. It is the people who make Zimbabwe and it is they who rule. The president is nothing but a glorified civil servant. He or she works for the people and not against them. The people are the masses and they have the ultimate power. The Police and Army are mandated to serve and protect the interests of the people and not to fight them. The government should be for the people. Governments are nothing without the people!
Mugabe is the most shameful of African leaders. He was a beacon of light that turned into an apocalyptic darkness. He was the colourful and joyous son of Africa now turned into a ruthless dictator. The unlikely and even undeserving candidate who now imposes himself to be the king for life. The incorruptible one who has now become the father and a haven for the **** of corruption. Mugabe is a man disillusioned by his own grandiose imaginations that have been brewed by his over-prolonged stay on the seat of power. He has become the educated man who turned into the most foolish amongst us. Lost all sense of morality and cannot distinguish between what is right and wrong. This icon of a man has ****** on his own legacy. He has torn down his own statues. No longer shall he be remembered as a great revolutionary, he shall forever be vilified for the political villain that he is. The angel sent by God to redeem us has become the devil to us.
Mugabe is a testament that education and wisdom can be parallel. Maybe he has succumbed to the vices of old age and lost his original senses. Or maybe he is now just a stooge and stage puppet controlled by others behind the scenes. It could be that he suffers from dementia or some form of schizophrenic condition. He has a deranged personality void of all manner of reason and decency. Maybe he has become blinded and cannot see the reality of the Zimbabwean condition.
I am neither Zanu PF nor MDC or any other sham. I am red, white, black, green and yellow. I am a Zimbabwean. I cannot believe how I supported this madman and his cronies blindly for a time. I was once deluded and believed in the sovereignty dogma and the right for Zimbabwe to influence its own politics. All the time the country was deteriorating as the Zanu PF cancer was spreading across all corners of this beautiful nation. Those in power were busy abusing it and looting wealth for themselves. They looted farms, properties, companies, gold, platinum and diamonds. Everything they touched was stained with failure.
Some of the most educated people in Africa have now become nomads and sojourners in this world. The beauty and grace that distinguished Zimbabwe from the rest has been greatly compromised and diminished.  Zimbabwe has become nothing to write home about. Our previously less prominent neighbours have outgrown us.
The people go hungry, the banks have no money, industry has lost its footing, unemployment at its highest, crime and discord rampant, nothing but lawlessness and disorder. No electricity everywhere and  water supply is erratic. The roads are in dire condition. The industries of Bulawayo have suffocated to death. White collar workers have been reduced to vending. We are now a nation of scavengers and families grow hungry. Exports are a thing of the past and the Zimbabwean dollar is nowhere to be seen. The whole economy is in a constant state of illness and misery. The health sector has been hit hard. Zimbabwean youth have become jobless and confused. The working class goes on without receiving wages and salaries. In the meantime the police has become more corrupt and draconian, ZIMRA keeps squeezing the little money the poor have and there is mass censorship everywhere. The man who was tasked to manage this country has failed and must step down. These are more than enough reasons for change.
Mugabe and his government have turned the reputation of Zimbabweans to nothing. Zimbabweans are now seen as weak and destitute people all across the world. In certain places they have become pariahs who survive by hustling, robbing and conning. We are scattered all over and it is not by choice.
The pride and dignity of the Zimbabwean flag has been tainted by this man. As heinous and evil was the Ian Smith regime and his supremacist government, Mugabe is worse. We will never wish to go back to white rule but we wish for a black competent government that is effective. We just want things to work in Zimbabwe. We want to restore the beauty of our glorious nation. We want Zimbabwe to be better than it was ever before. One thing is clear, Mugabe has done his part and has run out of ideas. His time is done! We need fresh thinkers in the white house. We need real change in Zimbabwe. A new dispensation with none of the failed old guard. They have served their role and it is time to resign and retire.
Mugabe is not a uniting force anymore. He has become a symbol for division pretty much like Adolf ******. He is just an old man hiding behind a suit and his hordes of security men and puppeteers. Even the great Fidel Castro relinquished power! South Africa has seen more democracy than Zimbabwe. Change has swept across most of Africa and it is now knocking on the door in Harare.
We the Zimbabweans across the globe unite and in one great voice we shout, “Enough is enough, No more Mugabe and his regime, No more suffering, we want a new and better Zimbabwe! We want a government for the people! We want jobs! We want local industries! We want agricultural growth! We want a country that works!”
My recommendation to Mr. Mugabe is that he researches about the Seppuku ("stomach- or abdomen-cutting") or harakiri (“cutting the belly") and practises it. This is a form of Japanese ritual suicide by disembowelment. It was originally reserved for samurai. Part of the samurai bushido honour code, seppuku was used either voluntarily by samurai to die with honour rather than fall into the hands of their enemies (and likely suffer torture) or as a form of capital punishment for samurai who had committed serious offenses, or performed because they had brought shame to themselves.
Change is coming to Zimbabwe whether the old guard want it or not. The police black boots will not able able to intimidate this away. No oration or rhetoric will sweep this change under the carpet. This is different from the attempted changed introduced by the MDC a few years back. This change is not sponsored by the British or Americans. This change is motivated by the gross incompetence of the sitting government and it is empowered by the resolve of every true Zimbabwean to see a better and healthier Zimbabwe that offers a lucrative future for our children. This change is 100% Zimbabwean and is not about colour, creed or background.

so, with israel being re-established...
why do we, us,hit
europeans... even need to bother
establishing authority,
         utilißing the new testament?
i quiete like the old testament
logic of:
oculus per oculus
                   (eye for an eye)...
because the saxon concept of
justice: i rather see...
the implosion of
   blackstone's formulation...
the 10:1 imploding to the 1:10
ratio of...
      a shawshank redemption...

there is... redemption...
since! there's no justice within
the post scriptum of
the hillsborough disaster...
watching people walk, the lunatic walk,
20 years later?
   disorientated by the court
of justice?

    re-dem-ption...
the whole aspect of: innocent until proven
guilty is horrid!
this... saxon vernacular of
that branch of philosophy that's
bogus...
namely... within origins
     of the forbidden fruit...
i.e. and you know?!

    really?!

      no... but i'll **** to make
a standing pivot of a pawn
on a chess-board.

                          savvy?

who, among the europeans...
actually needs such artifacts
as new testament texts, credo,
orthodoxy, sign of the cross
greek exports?

             the state of israel has
been re-established...
      i don't want anything to do
with this judeo-grecian banality...
you can have you little affair over

                                n

       e                                                 w





                                 s...

don't worry... i'll make sure that i'm
watching... people tell a lie...

yeah: hum hum bubbly hum-hum...
am i, or are there any arizona
inbreds?

who, the hell, needs, the news testament,
within the confines of history,
dispossessing europe of it,
of an established jewish state?

      one book among many...
hence the scent of a yawn...
                         when entering a library...

i'll do one gesture, and one gesture
alone... inclined to a replica...
    ecce libra!
             i wash my hands from
                  having any investment in it.

****, the greeks can have it...
      they can keep it, cherish it,
but they better not spaghetti the old testament
with their... "ingenious" plot...
not when the nag hammadi library
emerged...
      no... not now... not ever...
        i detest this greek book of overt
symbolism...
  their pristine alphabet,
their diacritical application,
  with the pseudo-romans toying with: deaf...
or blind... whichever it is...

sandpaper... instead of a kangaroo pouch...
of inflated... soft... flesh?
i'll rip your heart out
and feed it to my neighbour's dog,
                  beside a bowl of water.

After all, we're not savages. We're English.
And the English are the best at everything.
                                                     ­       (Piggy)
The hovelled huts
Near  school house ditches
Hardly sheltered starving children.
Emaciated, pale and ghastly,
Three million lost.
Exports defined them,
Imports denied them,
The world was told their hunger
Was the wrath of God.
For seven hundred years
Untolled Rachels wept;
Twice as long
As Jews were kept
Enslaved in pagan Egypt.
This was Ireland,
Not Auschwitz.

Beneath the banners of
Labour and Freedom,
Toiled the innocents.
Eyes burning from hot peppers,
Bodies weak and wrecked
From boarding;
Skin separated by flogging
Thousands of Cypriots.

Over soup and sandwiches
A demarcation's drawn,
So Hindus now face Muslims
Seeking their new homes.
Three million displaced
During lunch,
Brain salad served up on a hunch
By a line
Drawn by one man.
This wasn't Treblinka,
But Pakistan.

Millions fenced in labour camps
In what they called  
The Dark Continent.
The torture was horrendous,
With random executions.
Think the worse, you're still not there,
Think ravenous dogs and mutilation,
**** and human degradation.
Eyes gouged out, ears cut off,
This was Kenya,
Not Warsaw.

Sir Winston wore
His crocodile shoes,
Feigning the blues,
While blocking friendly supplies;
Letting three million hungry die.
His callousness was cruelly matched
When delivering Mahatma's epithet:
“Has Gandhi not starved yet?”
This was Bengal,
Not Dachau.

Their ****** count adds up.
Their new policy was errant:
Imprison all the peasants.
It was racist to the Nth degree,
A million desperate detainees
To exile when they're freed.
But half died on their knees
In Malay,
Not Buchenwald.


The Boer War and Apartheid
Were blessed with Royal Assent.
In Amritsar Brits opened fire,
To cut down Innocents.

This isn't just in history,
It's happened all too recently.

Argentina's watery graves
Gurgle from The Belgrano,
Sunk by Royal torpedoes
For a rock of sheep.
Such was the work
Of a band of brothers,
To fly their flag
Over Falkland waters?

There's no denying
The atrocities
Of her maternal
Ferocities.
The Spinners
Wrapped their glories
Furled in Jack's war stories.
The winners
Have detoured their crimes,
Enjoin us denouncing
**** times;
But the sun hasn't set
On Empire fires:
China, India, Kenya, Aden,
Ireland, Africa,
All invaded.
All degraded.
Imperialism is not benign,
The legacy lives on
In Palestine.

Under pretence
Of flag and king,
The English are
Best at everything.

Daisy Lowe‘s body positivity and refusal to bow to fashion industry pressures have cemented her place as one of Britain’s hottest exports.

From international catwalks to Pirelli calendars, the 27-year-old’s career in front of the camera has gone from strength to strength - all because she’s unapologetically herself.

To celebrate her latest endeavour - a partnership with lingerie brand Triumph UK - the model sat down with The Huffington Post UK to let us in on her secrets.

What does having a positive body image mean to you?

Being comfortable in your own skin, embracing all your flaws and accepting that you are who you are.

Being individual is a beautiful thing.

Where does your confidence come from?

It’s definitely something any person living in today’s society has to learn and grow up to achieve. I’m still working on it on a daily basis.

Everything that I put into my body makes a difference. How much I work out makes a difference. Surrounding myself with people I can laugh a lot with and around whom I can be 100% myself.

What advice would you give to those struggling with self-image?

Love the parts of you that you don’t enjoy so much and be kind to yourself - that’s something that I have to constantly remind myself to do. Go and do something that inspires you or makes you happy.

How do you banish self doubt on bad days?

Meditation and mindfulness helps. Having a check-in with yourself and trying really hard to be present.

We can look outside ourselves and think about what other people are doing, -especially with social media - but if you can try your best in the exact moment that’s all that matters, because that’s all that really exists.

What would you like to see change in the fashion industry?

There’s a lot more room for variation as far as models go - we should be promoting that all shapes, sizes and ethnicities are beautiful.

It would be lovely for plus size models not to be called ‘plus size’ - they’re being used for the same jobs. We’re all just models - wearing beautiful clothes that make people feel good about themselves and helping designers to sell their creations. I’d love to see more ‘in-between’ size models too.

How do you decide what to wear in the morning?

The darker and greyer the world is outside, the more I wear bright colours - as long as you’re sunny in yourself! I’m such a creature of comfort – I’m a huge fan of pulling on a pair of stretchy comfy jeans (Lowe swears by high-waisted styles by Paige, Frame and J Brand) and I love a bit of cashmere.

Jewellery wise, I always wear Crystal necklaces or chains by Loquet. I’m also a fan of a cute tea dress and ballet shoes. I love that Brigitte Bardot/Jane Birkin 60s/70s vibe mixed up with a bit of 90s grunge.

What are your favourite shopping spots?

Lark Vintage in Somerset is amazing, and in London I love Mairead Lewin Vintage. Those are top secret - I never usually tell anyone those.

Brand wise, I love James Perse, Cocoa Cashmere, Erdem, Simone Rocha and Ganni - I have a leather jacket from there I haven’t taken off for a year. I also have a troubling Saint Laurent addiction.

Talk me through your daily skincare routine.

I love the P50 W Lotion by Biologique Recherche, it’s done absolute wonders for my skin and makes it much more clear.

I also swear by the Crème de la Mer Genaissance de la Mer serum, moisturising soft cream and eye concentrate.

For my body, I use Aesop A Rose By Any Other Name cleanser and Balance Me for their luxurious moisturisers and body oils made with natural ingredients.

What are your makeup bag staples?

Tom Ford is a go-to. I use the Traceless Perfecting Foundation, which has SPF, and the concealing pen around my nose and eyes.

I like to keep my makeup really simple, so I’ll use the Laura Mercier Paint Wash liquid lip colour in petal pink on both my lips and cheeks.

For eyes, I swear by Tom Ford Waterproof Extreme Mascara and Kevin Aucoin eyelash curlers.

What’s the best tip you’ve picked up from a makeup artist?

My makeup artist would **** me if I ever slept in my makeup. Another great tip is to make sure you conceal around your nose. If your nose is red it makes your whole complexion look uneven.

Also, always apply lipstick all the way into the corners of your mouth to continue the line.

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve done in the name of beauty?

When I was younger I used to make these weird DIY face masks with my friends. We made one with mashed banana, avocado, honey and peanut butter. Peanut butter on active teenage skin was not the best idea.

Any other beauty secrets you can let us in on?

My facialist Arezoo Kaviani is amazing. She’s a real healer at heart. She does a deep cleansing ****** with extraction and LED light therapy.

I also tried a collagen wave ****** recently, which was great.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses

indeed shakespeare, the world's a stage, but give me
the stage and not the world, give me the actor's proper
compass to define himself in the stage without
the onslaught that bothered nietzsche: imagine speaking
for the entire humanity. i have one for one, where the
"actor" owns the stage, but cares little for the world
in which things are acted according to heidegger's da sein.

inside a room sits a man, reading aloud canto xxxviii,
taking in the funny parts... with ezra's specified decor
of the trilling r, the lip numbing vibrating of m and half m (n),
just to don the evening jacket pipe and waistcoat...
all the way from idaho... losing the accent of course...
like me from the backside of poland, although nearby
the signing of the treaty of *lublin (1569)...
so there he is, sitting like a crow with a crown,
or a crown that's a crow, hunched, nonetheless eager to enjoin
with the surrounding choirs...
in the room händel's tecum principium (psalm 110) -
if händel never bothered to expatriate to
england... we'd only be left with elgar and
vaughan williams as the sole exports... what shame...
here's to the fireworks! in the room this scene... but outside
a first movement of ηoλιδες by franck...
so indeed the voodoo ****** needed for the giggle
from canto xxxviii (contrary
to what was suggested, and the suggestion
was that i could enjoy music & poetry
as much as i am now with a woman,
to prevent the waterfall from mt. ****,
the boredom, the scaly crocodile the
erasing ink of octopi... all that with a hope
for censored ****... and children and the absence
of private thinking... to appreciate it once is
not enough... and with woman of choice
only one account holds sway... tear jerker at the opera
and furthering this withstanding joy at beauty...
perhaps knowledgeable with an operatic spouse,
but no step further... in that great foundation
of life and grey matter... a tier below the merchant...
the buyer... the exchange of rotten deeds for
glistening goods - with woman the scarcity of
fed inhibitions expressed in the pure inhibitions
of sentencing blissfully haloed loneliness
into the resounding exchange of thought & voice
(esp. of someone else, once written);
no, we dare not invite profanity of such
crescendos as woman is capable of to replace
the ecstasy of the violins harps and trombones...
for indeed with a woman i'd be chained to
hear the worsened sense of symphony...
and more angina or animosity for what i prize
are relevant coordinates of executed choice
that leave no wall of my vicinity cold and
ghostly as if a dialogue with someone
was necessary; but to the poignancy of the canto:
1. the cigar-makers automation requiring recitation
    to combat the capitalistic rat infestation,
    known as mechanisation / automation,
    according to dexter kimball,
2. because of a louse in berlin
    and a greasy basturd in austria
    by name francios guiseppe.
3. on account of bizschniz relations.
4. and schlossmann suggested that i stay in vienna
    as stool-pigeon against the anschluss
    because the austrians needed a buddha
5. der im baluba das gewitter gemacht hat...
6. kosouth (ku' shoot)

and i end with that... there's more but i cannot
spare not inviting this gentleman in smockings
who said:
i say... didn't the english forgo the use of
other europeans the necessary stressors of accent
to singular letters rather than words
or word compounding, all cockney ****-side-up?
i dare say those french bass tarts
put the ' over the e, and the papa turds on top
of the o... while our kin too to sharpening and shortening
things... taking 'em fo' d' fool...
so if there's direct correlation, my german compatriot
said... itz zys: diacritic of french with o and le v. la
is the english of would not with wouldn't.
now i think the modern fictional hannibal
has a mirror proper... without the mexican doctor (
cannibal etc.) but with this villager from idaho,
making it big in london and paris...
as all "little" villager folk do...
given there's less cosmopolitan conversation about
among the slapstick nobility humour scheming
and socialite consciousness with the odd dry martini -
given there's less of all that, where you can
go to sleep at 9pm, and wake with the roosters at 5am
(in summer), milk the cow, feed the hens, pluck an organic
tomato... and get excite about village traffic - tumble weeds
speeding, ol' mcdonald wrote a poem:
a tad bit cornish, nonetheless, the sort of nourishment
that redeems.

Judy Judy Kansas cutie / it starts in the heartland / Tornado = social change through manipulated crisis / Toto the only free agent / Dorothy struck on her head by the closing window of virtual possibility / She realizes that hope'n'change have reached the prairie / Alice in Wonderland Hollywood / Kansas as futurist narrative / Star Wars pre-dated / It's a Wonderful Mythic Life / Miss Gulch as Henry Potter / Witchery in bitchery: Hillary 2016 / Scarecrow as Celtic bog-sacrifice victim / Tinman as ****** therapy client / Did that hurt? No - it felt wonderful ! / Bible-belt Pentecostal subtexts: "the anointing" / obsolete leonine monarchies / Louis Quatorze the Sun King /  enlightenment through concussion / the tyrant must be resisted from the heartland / populist progressives plot stealthily to justify their rule through the wizardry of science / the tyrant utilizes tech to manipulate the credulous / green state fascism / journey out of ontic inevitability into the futurist nightmare / eco-mammon bailouts / infantile mental midgets ruled by witch-tyrants = One World Munchkinland / Dorothy as redeemer-Messiah / Dorothy as Mary Poppins / America exports populist prophecy to the greater world / Glinda the Matriarch-Goddess / Glinda as transcendent Wisdom / the Anti-witch antidote / Patriarchy creates "special effects" subterfuge / flying monkeys: shock-troops of the witch / simian social justice warriors / Obama as Witch of West AND Wizard simultaneously / flying monkeys: brown-shirt armies of new multi-culti order / George W. Bush was the the witch the house ("Hope & Change') fell on / Over the Rainbow: somewhere beyond ****** identity grievance-mongering / There's no place like the Restoration of All Things

The holy crusade of tacit masochists
An esoteric, timid terrorist
Led pumps through your veins,
Copper through mine
My lips Israel, yours Palestine

You sweat iron ore to fuel the war machine,
Your tear-ducts producing only gasoline
My nations prime exports,  indulgence and sin      
I fight for my lord, but I crucified him

A xenophobe, a chauvinist
You're the sullen bigot, I'm the narcissist                                      
I'm breaching your periphery, I'm sparing no time
Searing your flag to cinders, Superseding with mine

Arctic air ,
a Canadian export,
not ledgered in any book of trade,
replaced hunger as the body's sole attention.
There will be time for additional Canadian exports:
wheat, canola, eggs, bacon, beans, potatoes...
But the temperature plunge
routed the homeless last night
from their million dollar bridge encampments,
scattering their shanty collective,
into a forced survival march to heated shelters.
"Praise the Lord. Praise the Lord.  
Come in my children.
God loves you."

it's this mentality of the old guard: rekindling the Renaissance of the 1950s and 1960s... they're the originators of English, but the last to receive it... their frustrations against Europe are frustrations against being antiques in the anglophile world dynamics... they're Victorian antiques in a silicon valley of usurped hopes... the easiest route is to blame the Romanian than the Californian... the Empire is long gone and there's nothing to bring it all back... hence the culinary fascination and the need to obstruct morality with plastic surgery... they actually hate American accents (after being saturated with American culture) more than French or Germany variations... i know they do because i came to hating them as much as they do... "they" isn't paranoid: the English! we're getting so much American culture it's only natural that we shun the everyday American accenting of what used to be posh bargaining of Oxford in Harvard... globalisation is another word for a monochromatic adjunct.*

2 Texans looking for
de Wallen in Soho...
              London ain't no
Amsterdam:
  Russian oligarch said:
head to Dubai for answers...
    and so they built
the Zeno towers...
              how they never
reveal little mid-western
America to Europe,
the Harvard ponces are ashamed
of dialects -
     American dialect as in
non-celebratory Scoot -
                  aye            -ish
                         but never the redneck
in 'ollywood
                                   how how how -
never the true believers...
we welcome Disney every day,
we get culturally *****, every day,
you think we like Americans?
   we don't...
we're like the Vietnamese...
                    we threw the Jews out,
but the Muslims came...
              we didn't like that...
the Americans became the equivalent of
Jews...
               the English became the
two-faced concierge -
          we loved the cultural ****...
but when we heard American accents
we thought: thanks for the atom bomb
neurosis! the oh-oops message spreading
to North Korea... hey! you dropped
one first! why tell other people
to not do it?! at least the French
tested in aqua-insulators with Godzilla...
you tested the ******* thing in deserts...
oh sure... we love American cultural
exports...
                 we see a Texan in Soho
after a few drinks we're thinking:
                                                 lynch the
*******.
                          it's this disparity of
being fed a culture that represents
            the lowest ebb of pronunciation...
even the northerners in England
hate American accents more than Cockney;
are these plebs feeding us
the zeitgeist? seriously?
        they can't be serious...
                    they have enough enough
actors to be acclaimed as foreign affairs
policy makers by censoring the diversity
of the rainbow of American accents...
   even a Croat accent in English
         (famously part of a football team)
doesn't seem so annoying as a
    niche American accent spoken to
an Englishman...
            Texan for one...
                     hybrid Californian another...
Mid-Western and even though
i'm not English i'm titillated by
donning a red coat.

i can understand the notion that no serious attempt
at literature would include curse words,
i know i boast that my mouth can be a sewer of filth,
but it's hardly black magic incantations,
i'm familiar with aleister crowley's the lesser key
of king solomon, but i only once, once practised
the invocations, although no altar, no candles,
no spooky scenes, a lazy afternoon spent in silence,
the whole idea of incantation on the cognitive plateau:
because i never took it seriously - what i do take
seriously though: woke up at 7 a.m. (drank less than
i usually do and the concoction of sleeping pills
and whiskey didn't work the twelve hour shift in
the factory of sleep) - drank coffee (yes, i know,
this is turning another vanity project) and then
sat in despair until i took a sip at quarter to two
in the afternoon... despair? oh it came in the form of
monochromatic television cinema, Hollywood that
great albino of culture, literal despair, theatre of
the absurd in all its glittery fantastic explosions,
dinosaurs, meteors, captain *******, thor and a
green giant... through to mr deeds and what not...
white afternoon nightmare... it drove me to despair:
the way it only matters that James Bond Wallace & Gromit
are the sole cultural exports of the theatre -
i don't know, it just isn't representative overall, art house
Scandinavian Ingmar Bergman: the seventh seal,
wild strawberries... personally i liked the magician...
too much of that in the mainstream and you'll get rouble,
i mean trouble... of what the preserved man is capable
of in his physical labours - working on the construction
site - such men do shun the ideas that might give them
wings, for a natural basis - look at me, i started sniffing
the cultural realm and didn't follow tradition:
grandfather in the steel industry - it wasn't a real rebellion,
it was just an option that came slyly - and an acceptance
of "poverty" (more like modesty) - worked for a library
and what a monument it now is, from the floor to the ceiling:
books, books, book. i might add, Gregory Corso had
the best voice of all the Beats, in his early days,
recording his poems at 9 Rue Gît-le-Cœur -
art and poverty, it was always about that, i took two
patrons gun-in-hand trapped in a Stockholm syndrome
(when parents become patrons, patrons as in / i.e.
a plate of food; the cigarettes and ***** are mine).
in the meantime i'm confused by the dates,
there's a democratic tornado working its way from
Northumbria to Essex and west through to Cornwall,
but in 1997 Labour one... it's 2016, i'm getting mixed up,
American politics is more fascinating, i was just
sitting there prior to the white afternoon nightmare of
Hollywood action and comedy films bewildered
with words: is it that time already?
Wales counted, Scotland counted, currently the latter
is wearing a blue conservative collar on its
geography / demography... i already think that Labour
will win this time, the pacifism might appeal to the people,
it's a hunch but it's not definite, i just like surprises...
i'm still bewildered though: so these are the elections
were we get a new prime minister?
the health & pensions secretary resigned weeks prior,
cutting disability benefits, or an overhaul of all the scams...
but it was the conservatives that provided transparency,
as my neighbour (a carer) said:
it's more transparent under conservative powers,
under labour powers you get bribes and loop holes
that end up as black holes in the budget.

p.s. my hunch about Labour winning this election
comes as no surprise as a mayoral candidate for
London is a son of a bus driver, or postman or
whichever, and i guess to stab at a pattern,
a Labour mayoral candidate will give a Labour
government... but i could be wrong... they're still
counting Xs.

I hear the song
of this street
a happier song
than the blues of Denver
destitution with gaiety
more hope and love,
worn souls and bodies
hoping for the
loose change that
usually ends up lost
between couch cushions
in exchange
for a simple show
instead of begging
for sympathy

carefully arranged
planter boxes
to match the seasons
and jubilance of
passers by juxtaposed
with the whitening beard
of a ***** old man
hustling for a buck
for **** or food or *****
you will never know
except for the few
honest cardboard signs

the two a.m. ***
happy and ******
eagerly striking a
conversation with
lone students
out for a simple walk
looking only for
someone to talk to
because no one
is a desert island,
we need imports
and exports of
thoughts, ideas,
and emotions
to keep the small
piece of land bearable

the man in a mask
with no skin showing
playing congas
on a hot Colorado day
hoping for a
pocket full of change,
face hidden; like
his beaten past
he is humble—
anonymously playing
for a dollar
or few without
shock or pizzazz

adults buying a drink
while a block down
children buy an
ice cream cone
both a vice

modern jazz, which flows
over the red bricked street
guitars, bongos, violins,
Home Depot bucket drums
melding together into
one, spontaneous song
improvised by the ebb
and flow of tourists
and natives with

changing verses of
a woman’s opinion
strongly voiced to a survey
while her husband
keeps the beat with his foot
—never allowed to sing
the chorus of children
shrieking and crying
in the dissonance of youth
reflected in early couples
sing infatuations
short and fleet, struggling
to keep a foot hold, but
fading like pop songs…
the experienced couples
creating movements of
pain, joy, and maturity,
dynamic blues riffs
full of emotion only
those who have felt
could understand

westerners: we're basically the people with a big bang theory in our heads (what a ****** name for what used to be an awe-inspiring venture into the natural environment and colours, now just a black dot, no wonder the imagination dried-up at the end of the 20th century and it all became, "a little bit technical" / technology perfected the making of money / no -logy attache with art, the feel got the most of it), and having to still perform menial tasks, most of which became anti-physical, exports to China - an intellectual flatline of bureaucratic esteems, preferably lost among scientific theories that demean, devour and conspire to reach pinnacles of overstretched pronoun usage... too many nouns, too many nouns, there are to many names in this world that gather inert verbs around them - say the word aeroplane and i bet you won't end up being a pilot, able to fly the **** thing from London to Helsinki.*

i just realised i can't do it - applying
poetry to historical prose is exhausting -
the project has been terminated -
it's like two-hydrogen atoms coupled
to an oxygen atom defining the Atlantic,
the Pacific and a few lakes in between -
how can a single human being
encapsulate all that history? i don't
mind people spying on me, i know
spying is a form of fetishism, but trying
to encapsulate all that history in one
unit is counter-productive, non-representative,
i stopped on page 55, i didn't even get to
Greek history - what i love about all
that philosophical bollocking is that it's
airy, a modern arts gallery - you can fudge
in an elephant in there and people would say
that it's the five-blind men - or the sixth
deaf man, given the odd trumpet sound -
history literally does exhaust poetry the
easiest, philosophy at least antagonises it,
it's on the same playing field, both are in tune,
however well or however badly the strummed
guitar / ego - if i was going to sift through
another ******* of historical facts predating
antagonistic history like the events of
the Cold War or the horrendous disintegration
of Yugoslavia (Gorbachev was rightly
pompous to the end, the Soviets went their
separate ways peacefully, now Azerbaijan
sponsors the Euro football tournament) -
but if i were to shove all that **** into my head...
you know where Alzheimer's stems from?
i think i know - too much information,
too much information canvased against
easy, menial tasks... if they only taught us how
to not feel bored, instead of ******* us with
Pythagoras and calculus and whether it was
Newton or Leibniz who finished the finishing line
first... education in the West is a fool's game,
it's like that fable about giving an African
a fish or a fishing rod - they sell this **** in
Calcutta - me? i'm selling you a pirate copy,
don't bother - don't even go to university,
they'll turn you into a double-*** that you already
are, professional academics are not high school
teachers, they're the ones in line with ambitious
Higgs' boson, oh sure, Mr. Blair and that famous
'education, education, education,'
how about go **** yourself, go **** yourself,
go **** yourself?
the educated are in debt and the common
sense people,
well, they're also in debt - mortgages and what
not, but when i think about it...
i'd be earning super money to spend it... on what?
if  had children, fair enough,
the grand selfless act - maybe... erm...
never trust a female politician because she ends
up a tarantula, a black widow, caring for her own
rather than the ***** masturbated into a hanky?
listen, if you had a woman try to ****
you via your childhood friend... you wouldn't be
Kentucky frying chocolate bars to mush and
lovey hubby dub dub either.

During boring
school lessons
he looks across
at Yehudit at her desk

takes in her brown hair
shoulder length
her profile
the eyes

nose
and how she sits
her large bust
her pen in hand

writing
and the teacher writing
on the board
boring stuff

time wasting scribbling
he watches her
her head bent
intent on the work

and thinks
of that time
by the pond
in the wood

he lying there
on the grass
sun above his head
and she came

and sat beside him
her peasant simplicity
overwhelming him
her show of leg

as she moved closer
her eyes large
and fire filled
and he told her

about the large butterfly
he'd seen in the woods
red and black
and white tips

and as he spoke
she touched his thigh
moved her hand along it
her fingers doing

that walking thing
on the jeans
and he proceeded
with the butterfly talk

as her fingers
walked deeper
and pressed and pressured
and he said

OK so the butterfly
isn't the most
intense subject
but hey

what are you doing
with the walking?
raising an interest
she said

and he said
two can play
at that game
and touched her leg

the soft flesh
moving his hand
just beneath
her skirt

warm and silky
and now once
you've written
that down

the teacher says
dragging Baruch
from his day dream
of memories

I'll talk about
the exports and imports
of the nation
and so he goes on

but Baruch
is only half listening
he studies Yehudit's hands
how they join together

as if in prayer
elbows on the desk
her chin resting
on the finger tips

and how her knees touch
issuing from the skirt
beneath the desk
and that time

he kissed her
under the full moon
and he howled afterwards
like some hound

and she laughed
and it echoed
around trees
and they kissed again

dismissing
the November rain.

this soft silence has me feeling
that there isn't enough to go around.
you're rose petals on black tile,
             indulgence at it's finest.
a dimple twitch, a train to which
station?
motivation,
obligation,
                  regurgitation.
I've been left out, cut out, burnt out.
take my feathers
make arrows
slice through my skin
make wine.
kiss my wounds, attack my goodness,
give me bruises, I'm fine!

I'm lifted
you're gifted
got me
on the edge of
both sides
of your line
shove my face
smash my face
trash my cash and mash
mash mash, until there's bleeding.
-I haven't made it there... yet.

trying to decide what to do with my time
waiting for the wash, dreading the dirt that clings
to clean cheeks and it's only been a few weeks
but I'm burning in madness.

to entertain you would be golden
my brain is swollen with stepping
and it makes me want to be alone.

negative exports, I'm an expert at drowning
with one foot placed firmly on the ground,
the other in my mouth.

but then the polish spitfire fighters of the battle of britain, and the settlers of w.p.b. anders where undermined in clothed ethnicity of former countrymen that came later by the migrant toll of conquered social atheism of communism, by loss of empire and colony for the sole justice of copernicus the plumber, asian racism with depth came later, and now individual atheism of capitalism just sells, because no one will congregate for it as worthwhile!*

when you write something
and don't call it by it's educational phrasing:
some say poetry...
others say waiting for the male
cat of yours returning from a night escapade
where neither food nor warmth will lure,
but the cold crisp of usable fur does beg
a return...
once, when the high street resembled
some sort of civility of wanting to be
car noise free...
but today's high street is all about
shoes, clothes and mobile phones...
it's the phlegm ghetto to my liking,
whether oxford or reagant's st.,
it's just a massive ghetto of purchase,
that has nothing i want,
just an experience of tourism
but never an experience of rooting in...
st. john paul ii is a curse i too would have said
well ordained for a statue... grannies across
poland will crucify me... what a success...
i became a person when i experienced immigration...
i call it neo-colonial exports... ******* of
eastern europe.

you know it needs the thumb, index, middle and ring fingers to clasp the eroticism of the neck for the geese to fly in man inverse to the hellish fires of emotion that have no sense of temperament?*

even the existential french philosopher sartre was fooled
by what the common man conquered
deemed the end of rome...
but the conversion gave us the long standing
byzantines: saint who never warred
and so warring turned to sainthood,
but the man was rags to riches fraud,
as archaeology - that thing above history proves:
can't deny the papyrus came from india
when it was found in egypt by a real shepherd:
unless you're in it for the money...
and not the fact that pharisees would not have
thrived unto exdous for muscle the 2nd time,
so why such intellectual diversity and thriving
under roman rule... because there was no dislocation?
the conversion of constantine empowered 2nd rome,
byzantine fabrics of jewel of sainthood
than never took to taking an acorn for some reason...
western rome was overrun with orcs, northern folk
previously not conquered when julius caesar looked
and the women of gaul and said: easy **** soldiers...
easy ****: brit girls easy too, but have to pierce
the membrane of fickleness that mediates man conquering
and man scheming (paedophiles).
of course women are worth the conquest...
but in a western society what wages "justifiable"
as war outside of itself... inside it there's a sexist war of pacifism
of one ***... *** changes... you name it...
in a society that exports war and imports pacifism
you will only get angry women and confused men...
pacifistic war is far from the pacific,
it's horrid... woman gets all the weapons:
****, ****, nakedness, ***** and *******...
man gets confused with what war is actually for:
profit... so he earns his share...
honestly... even though he's not warring...
so woman lives longer... becomes entombed
with inheritance... gets ken barbie the 2nd
******* of flamboyant killjoy mansion investments...
and it's equal: the worst sexism is one
that demands a pacifism of one *** but not both;
and we're living in a time when masculine sexuality
is pacified, and where feminine sexuality
is warring... easily duped by womanising wolves
that would reincarnate the third ***** somewhere
far from germany... like syria.

Mary Jane walked in the rain
under her umbrella
Opened up a can of salt
and dried up all the water

We pitch in change
We can't afford but, go ahead and buy it
And sometimes help the other side
When leaders, they do blind us

But listen it's not just the mines
Which lead us into danger
All the answers, written here
But, you need something stranger

Okay here goes, let me explain
Easy answers end no rain
Schoolkids with talent wind up a dropout
High football players take drugs then they cash out

We give more to money to make more of money
The Superbowl rules US.  Is that all there is, honey?
Gangsters rule, violent street killers in suits
You shouldn't be driven when you're on the toot

Those forest trees now they need to be saved
So listen to college, the students, be brave
Anything we can do we need to right now
So listen up baby and don't have a cow

Plant it!  The CAN-O-BUS, some call it hemp
It's cannabis, Hurry and save the planet
So many jobs gained just from making clothes
Food, medicine, and paper with No

Damage to the environment this be our cause
Dependent on oil?  Well, we've got that solved
Just grow hemp and use it, the answer to all
Oh go ahead, light some, and go have a ball

We can not go on with this fighting for oil
WE'RE KILLING OUR PLANET, like Cain, he killed Abel
Don't cut your brother, you mothers of spoil
We can make a change, lead us now, 'cause you're able

Put punk-*ss *** dealers out of control
A nationwide income and even on exports
Come on now get us off oil
It's killing us, choking us, children will boil

Everyone working and happy again
The bad guys, the dealers, now useless my friend
It's easy so do it now, now means today
As easy as feeding a horse, Ed, some hay

Come on off your high horse, stop drilling to ****
The fish in the ocean are dead from the spills
It needs to be outlawed; All men grow a brain
Make oil illegal, we need to be saved

Put out the fire and legalize **** we need
to get the 5.1 million off their duffs
It's not about wanting to grab a free puff
It's jobs and it's fent in doing what is right for mother earth
George Washington could not have been wrong!!!!!!!

you end up akimbo on a windowsill... thoughtless...
                                                  ­  donning sunglasses: but it's
                the night... so: huh?
          "trying" to meditate the whole
encopassing scenario...
      and you drink your spiced ***
and white *** and coke and go into
a lapping mode: mmm... yum yum...
tastes like chocolate! why hasn't anyone
bothered to tell people this *** and ms. pepsi
combination tastes like chocolate?
    synthetic, i'll give them that:
             but it still tastes like chocolate...
        it usually begins as it usually ends:
ah mate... i feel a little bit constipated...
                  also called a hanß zimmer equivalent
in a music box with that twirling ballerina
                composed on the basis of: the davy jones theme.
you cry a little, and then you forget the reason
for crying... and then you take pleasure out of the act...
and it's like: try try, try bring fail... ignore ignore,
                    and happiness will find its trail.
   i swear i spotted an old schoolfriend in the supermarket
today... i didn't say anything... but i have a photographic
memory, so i'm pretty sure it was him...
         mervin...
                              that was his first name...
                                labrador eyes... you know those
naive dumb goo eyes? yeah... that was mervin -
                  and i was like:
      what the ******* doing here?
               i swear you once posted that you had
           a pilot's license and could fry... oh ****... fly
an aeroplane?
                                   i can't believe i remember
the guy's name... it's such an odd name...
     but my photographic memory doesn't fail me...
if i've seen a face... give it 20 years and the ageing
process: i'll still sniff it out and rearrange the features
to ensure that i'm right...
                  i get it from my grandfather
but even he said: i give up, english suburbia is
exhausting...
                              i need pointers...
                if you think north london was bad...
try: south of the thames.
                                 they said communism was bad,
but then there's my grandfather, retired in his 50s...
                and i'm like: given this economic climate?
me retired in my 50s? phat chance of it happening...
          some say it was the result of communism,
others: the solidarity movement...
                 either way: i can't argue the point against
the old guard that encompassed the warsaw pact...
                      i already stated: they confuse communism
with the interim years of the martial law 1981 - 1983...
    westerners get all fuzzy with the details...
           people were expecting a soviet invasion...
but look at **** wałęsa in his florida shorts taking
selfies in miami these days...
                                   my grandfather owned a personal
library for ****'s sake... and this is under communism...
my father used to play water polo and bridge...
and this is the reality of living under the iron curtain...
now what do i have? a brothel of a nation...
exports to saudi arabia...
          and you're wondering why i took to enjoying
the company of actul prostitutes from the ukraine and
bulgaria?
           you're really making the: aha hum mmm statement?
at this point in time i really wish i had a magic
trick analogy...
                        something akin to a pencil
and smashing a ****'s eyeball into it to make it disappear...
but i'm low on these sort of tricks...
    all i have is a bottle of *** that's spiced
to the extent that i'm drinking liquid chocolate...
   and i have a full english brekkie
                                          to lullaby me to sleep with
my usual painkillers.

Do I know myself?
This girl with her doe eyes
And blonde hair;
She might have a lot going on.
Otherwise, she might be a liar--
After all this time,
Still convinced she’s never committed
A crime against another person’s heart.
Who really knows
What damage a girl has done?
She doesn’t even remember.
She takes everyone’s word for it,
And the whole world says
There’s nothing wrong.

Those eyes,
They are baby blues
That sing the blues.
Boy, does she look sad.
Not a week goes by
That she doesn’t waste by counting
The number of eyelashes
That fall out of her little head--
Two at a time
Yet as gradually as running out of time.
At night she pleads for excitement
That doesn’t entail
That deer-in-the-headlights feeling.

Repulsion
Has a funny way of creeping up.
It’s like there are two magnets,
And she is both.
The “wrong” side of one magnet
Yearns for the “wrong” side
Of the other magnet,
Yet they push each other away.
Likewise, she pushes herself apart.

She’s also learned that
Stuff you’re afraid to do
Happens anyway,
Like the “right” side of the magnet
Sticking to the aforementioned “wrong” side
Of the other magnet.
Things come together
When you do as you please--
It feels so wrong to let opposites attract,
But it is oh-so-right.
She needs to realize
she is not Jekyll and Hyde.

Wrongness is relative anyway--
Those eyes may seem too dark
Or too green
Or too gray
To a different person--
As for me, how I love them so.

When she bats her lashes
I can only imagine
They sound like a bat’s wings;
A rush of air beneath
Every rise and fall,
Heard only by the keenest ears.
But this memory doesn’t have
the same power as an act of self-loathing
Nor that deer-in-the-headlights feeling.
In my reflection,
She bats her lashes
but I still drown in hatred
For those stupid, doe eyes.

My heart has built a factory
Whose main exports are
Fallacies that have a dreadful way
Of creeping up
Behind my every thought and word,
Their paws locked in the snow,
Poised for a one-on-one battle
With Sanity.

I look in the mirror and think,
Boy, does she look angry.
Not a year goes by
Without some sort of inner vandalism.
She joins a stampede,
Runs without stopping
By the river to drink.
It tramples every blade of love left in her.
It crashes every flower she grows
So that she will never see
The beauty she bestows upon the world.
When she finally does stop by the river to drink,
And the bucks continue to run through it,
Her reflection is distorted.
The doe doesn’t wait for the water to
Become still again.

I call her Jane Doe
Because she doesn’t remember who she is,
And because her doe eyes
Are the only thing about her
That isn’t like a blank canvas.
Sometimes when she looks at me
I can only see my reflection;
We become one as we are meant to be.
I paint my body with compliments.
I can see myself
Draw lines across my skin.
There was a time when I pressed too hard
And the lines scabbed over.

But I am forgiven,
Because wrongness is relative
And when I envision myself,
This is what I wish I could see:
A mix of positive and negative,
Both sides of the magnet--
Never repelling each other,
Attracting one another--
A field of anger, of blues
Of lashes and bats’ wings
Of one-on-one battles
Of scabs, of humor,
Of crime against the heart,
Of no more time left to restart
Of irregular rhyme-schemes
And unfamiliarity

I don’t know myself,
This girl with her doe eyes--
This girl with her green eyes--
Or are they blue?
Or gray?
Or black?
Or brown?
I bat my lashes and I drown.

the America of the 20th century,
isn't the H'america of
the 21st century...

perhaps the status quo
extends, trans-century
within the confines of a television
show, in term of influence,

but apart from that?
no, not really, as in really really...

culturally America is...
  tumbleweed!
**** me... that's a blatantly good
analogy...
    
   America as...
wait... (insert a drunk's burp)...
   the U.S.N.A.
       the united states of north,
yes, north, america...

        oh hell yes!
the 1990's
the early 2000s year!
pristine pedigree!
afterwards?
  ****... the Silicon Curtain...

i have to back, all the way to
the 50s, 60s, and the 70s for
decent music...
  the rest? ******* mush pie...
perhaps some Banana republic
produce and and cream...
the rest?

         shy-t - ***** - shyte -
or however the ******* spell that word
when calling someone an ****,
an ***, or a plain and simple
donkey!

                  *******!

you know an empire is in decline....
it boasts of its resources,
it's, whatever the hell it is that
requires boasting about...

but honey, honey honey bear...
hush... hush...
calm down...

when you stop being a political power....
last time i checked...
free speech was only
constitutional in the...
  ****...   U.S.N.A.
      yeah... only there...
       i got the impression i was
supposed to live under a crown
authority...
luckily...

what's the difference between
the U.S.N.A. of the 20th century
and the, U.S.N.A. of the 21st century?
guess we're in the same boat,
mate!

             so much cultural exportation
within the confines
of the 20th century, great ****...
love it to bits...
21st century cultural exports
from the U.S.N.A.?
   can i yawn?
  don't get me wrong...
the t.v. shows are pristine
choices, oyster caveats...
but...
   but...
  don't they implode the whole
concept of a cinematic
export via Hollywood?!


H'america: sure...
   in their 20th century prime
as... well...
less a global police officer,
and more orientated around
cultural...
what's that called,
these days, "dis-appropriation"?
numero uno!
i was fed American crap
in my teenage years...
culturally, supreme...

in the 20th century...

    in the 21st century?
why am i only listening to American
politics, "of lately"?
the question runs parallel with:
why didn't Nietzsche mention
America, once?!

       huh...
suddenly i feel liberated from
the arching influence of
America, i don't have to ingest,
or digest, their cultural export!
**** me!
  that's a first...

so what are the Americans exporting
these days?
    one word, three syllables:
PO-LI-TICS!
                  
wow... ain't that something!
  i even joined the ****-tards
in watching a bit of the Ryder Cup!
and all that prevailed was
the comedy sketch done by
Robin Williams
about the origins of golf...

3 ******* years among the Picts,
and they spoke better
English, than the ******* English...
or at least spelled better...
minus? the modern hieroglyphs
of emoticons....

but no...
the American culture export
initiative died in the 20th century...
the 21st century American export?
politic...
thanks...
     and thank you for your civilians
being so politically informed...
and infested by...
a political dialectic...
thank you,
much appreciated...
    
           sorry about your movies
slumping... they're: ****!

the following poems are precursors to
what became a sleep-deprivation
thought experiment:

   - crown of myrrh / c'est la vie!
   - coming to december
   - hydry jawa (hydra's consciousness)
   - misery humour...

at first there's only the subjective observation,
but that is soon followed by
an undeniable objective fact - that:

these poems were written in frustration
at not being able to solve
    the times' (15th november 2017)
súdokū puzzles no. 9455 (difficult)
and no. 9456 (fiendish) -

out of a mere subjective account,
   i found my body dulled by a seeminngly
perpetual sleep,
            not morose, or numbed,
disorientated, but somehow muted.

my reaction was obvious:
  you need to be sleep-deprived -
the actual thought experiment happened
rather unexpectedly...

what i found the following incident is
that, in rare conditions,
   sleep-deprivation can allow the mind
to transcend a regular pattern of
sleep-rest, and engage in sleep-deprivation
overdrive...

        i only have one decent proof...
but it's a **** good one...
  
hours of being constantly awake?
      since 7pm yesterday...
   from 7pm today, at quarter past
10pm, that's: 27 hours 15 minutes...

   the times 20th november 2017
súdokū puzzle no. 9467 (fiendish) -
  and the proof is the solution, completed
in under 10 minutes:

          6 2 5 9 4 8 1 3 7
          9 7 3 1 2 5 8 4 6
          8 4 1 3 7 6 9 5 2
          3 5 9 7 6 1 4 2 8
          7 8 4 5 3 2 6 1 9
          2 1 6 8 9 4 5 7 3
          5 6 8 2 1 7 3 9 4
          1 9 7 4 8 3 2 6 5
          4 3 2 6 5 9 7 8 1

the actual answer to puzzle no. 9467
will only be available in
the times 21st november 2017
  t2 supplement, and if in desperation
you can only receive four clues
before midnight...
               but i'm cheap,
  can't be bothered to pay 75 pence
+ network access charge...
  for four numbers,
     when the ******* phone number
consists of eleven numbers.

believe me, i never thought that
sleep-deprivation, as a thought experiment
could achieve a lucidity of mind that
the otherwise sleep-recovery sometimes
merely dulls the mind...
notably via the dream fabric;

not so long ago i found dreams to be
exhausting,
        very much like the iron curtain -
they bugged me...
   intellectually depraved -
                     this velum somnium,
just like the velum ferrum spawned
the cold war, psychological warfare,
false information, distortions,
     exports of a "utopia" having been
established, nonsense of every calibre...
      no communist thought it was utopia,
but some people on the other side
of the iron grip must have thought so...
  or were subverted into thinking it was so...
hence the end result:
   the current zeitgeist.

Don't talk about it.
Within the whole fit
Of alcoholism
There exists a skism
Of sorts,
That exports
The deviant aspects
Of life, expounding on regrets
Future and past.
Bombast
The standing
Circumstance.
Don't talk about it,
But the though doesn't quit.
Just permit
One lasting comment
Each one out of their mind.
Each one looking to find
Somebody,
Or, some shoddy
Example of another life.
Each one is hinged to strife
And dismay.
Looking to one day
Get away.
Looking for someone else to just stay.
Or to say
Something pretty.
It's ******
Enough just being.
Each one only seeing
The bad side of it.
...
Don't talk about it.
Just one more thing...
It will bring
Absolutely nothing, but,
Remember the bite.
Like a small, lustfilled, light.
It, felt, right.
A small touch
Isn't a crutch.
It wasn't much
More.
One can deplore
Desire
But admire
The effort.
Except for...
Don't talk about it.
I quit.
I can't
I won't
It's scant
That I detract.
There exists desire
And not an aquisition to aquire.
But, I
Can't help but sigh.
Even though my
Other shifts to cry,
I won't speak.
A hand she seeks.
And I give,
With the warmth of a shiv
To touch her face.
She's come from a strange place.
I won't speak.
For once, one, is not meek.
Friends before
But for a second, a little more.
Don't talk about it.
Don't let it persist
Like it was pretty.
Remember the city
And the stars.
There was no trip to Mars.
Remember "mistake",
For it can make
Friends...
But to what end?
Why is it important
There are no memories to sort and
Nothing to find.
In this mind
It exists as nothing.
No bluffing
No feeling
No realing
Just two
Of a few
Who
Wanted
Nothing left stunted.
No whelp
No cry for help.
Don't talk about it.
Yet, I sit
And think,
And no it wasn't the drink.
It was lonliness.
What did I miss?
Placation of desires and Nothing more.
She walked out the door
And was gone.
I sang no sad song
And it wasn't wrong.
Don't talk about it?
Fine, I submit.
I quit.
This is it.

.the 3 Ps... priests, prostitutes, psychiatrists... i never went to psyvhologists or philosophers... i guess i became the last of the Ps... a "poet": thank god i didn't conform of form / rhyme, or that dreaded: feel the peer pressure! feel the peer pressure of circus monkey ******* 20 clowns congested into a fiat 126P... or an english mini doing / attempting the: i've found h'america in a can of sardines type of joke... play me some: chant of the templars: da pacem domine... look at me: happy bunny for the rest of the year! hell, i'll go one better: chevalier, mult estes guariz... i like this sort of "crap"... well, given modern pop music being less about crack and more about... getting a high from chewing on the sailors' nutmeg... who's who and who's to blame?! am i drifting as a sense of a reminder, or was this always to become a bad joke? i'm guessing: this was always a bad joke... given all of this... i'm just tired, as an european i'm just tired of the h'american narrative... i'm tired of looking up h'america's *******.... i'm tired of living in h'america's shadow... it bothers a bothersome lethargy out of me that has to state: the end... h'american culture was fun in the later stages of the 20th century... but now? the paranoia has become... totalitarian, past the scheme password: fun... it has become... blasé... unimpressive... elite-bound scrutiny without a binding revisionism... generic cultural export that seems to only satiate the anorexia of h'americans while, no one else... i have watched the death of the cultural export of h'america for a while now... h'america as a cultural goliath exporter of its culture is dead... nothing, culturally, to come from h'america, will ever be taken seriously... h'america can't replicate its former cultural export prowess... everyone these days just laughs at what h'america exports culturally... i still remember gap shirts: made in canada... i still own one, will i buy one in the neart future? those shirts are made to last for 50 years... they do not lose colour or form... chinese communism is what runs h'american capitalism: cheap **** sells, and since cheap **** is not made to last, more cheap **** is needed... even if h'america landed on the moon, the world still rotates around: made in china... bravo capitalism: selling out to the chinese communists! low quality products over high quality products... just to mind the expedience of upkept momentum: without a desired quality of individual products: rather the product per se... **** me... back my march into folk songs, into pagan ***-for-tat... away from h'american pop crack ******* songs or from rock... h'america... once the prime cultural exporter... now? eh... somewhere between rain man & the green hornet.

yeah, did that, talked to the psychiatrists,
they "figured me out",
   they thought i was abused as a child...
depends... on what you call abuse...
had the girlfriend or two...
              she got engaged with me,
threw the engagement ring back
in my face...
   called me up while i was roofing...
first it was the "voices in her head",
then a pregnancy...
                          once engaged, broken,
once divorced...
                newly married:
god, i pray for that ******...
                  what's the differnece between
anger and drinking?
  a litre of whiskey and having replaced
the mixer from a pepsi to a ginger ale?
angry, that's almost funny...
                  1.5 hour's of a worth of
public utility's worth of transport...
i too find the long way around an outlet...
talk... talk...
why would i feel like talking?
          what has, talking have to do with it?
my 'ingers are itchy,
can i just type and call it an extension
of thought?
               no one talked,
there was the sound of some music,
and some clicking sounds,
and, hey pretso...
   some letters appeared on a pixel canvas...
and then i really think about,
before a drinking session
i forgot to take a ****, ****,
and ******* to some 1970s italian
******* classics...
      in the intermediate of a drinking
sessions...
i remembered the shoved shy **** up
my ***... the ****...
and the no. 3...
         it was still going to be
1970s classic italian ***** cinema...
when... it all felt sensual...
but... wait... wait a minute...
   aren't all these ***** circumcised?!
wait... wait a minute...
i'm not circumcised...
my phallus looks nothing like
the prime exponents!
          right now: was it ever a "jewish thing"?
maybe i should buy a web cam,
some scented candles...
and **** one off?
                   incel...
i mean... you're implying
the guys who are... reactionary...
in a secular environment,
being prescribed an ultra-religous
practice of the martiarchy -
snippet till the end,
   bride to be once the male tirade ends?
yeah... well jerking off:
is a problem...
if you've been circumcised...
you're not supposed to...
but...
     i haven't been, circumcised...
so where's my *******
web cam, transations,
*****?

                         you want to begin
explaining why,
akin to baptism,
    the act of circumcision should
be a choice...
  rather than a "circumstance"
of "all possible eventualities"...
there's only so much
self-help psychologist *******
you want to hear,
before you turn up the heat...
so what about your lower tier
big hard-on pharma psychiatric
fwends?
oh, right... you're a psychologist...
so you're not really a doctor,
since, you can't prescribe
pharmaceuticals...
my bad.

        oh... you didn't think that
brain is nothing but a word salad /
chemistry soup?
no?
           oh... weelly?
                   weelly weelly?
trying to interpret these men,
armed with everything,
but nothing regarding
their circumcision,
and how...
   uncircumcised women can
just make money
off jerking off armed with
a web cam...
but men...
     well of course they won't
derive pleasure from
jerking off if they are
circumcised, will they?!

     by now it would be easier
to round up a bunch of retards,
lie to them,
point them in a disorientating
direction,
   and watch them do the *******
derby akin to horseracing...
because...
      not that i'm ******* einstein...
but that would be
just as good...
as all this current, vague,
self-help, *******.

no blood,
no shells,
everything out of sequence

people were even falling down before the shot was fired

the only thing missing was the handmaid costume
otherwise, everything else about it was remarkably convenient

all over the world, it was as if the lights were about to go out
with india banning all the wheat exports,
it would be nice if they could also stop exporting
incompetence, dishonesty, and the caste system

because everytime a 737 crashes,
we all know what country the engineers are from
same goes for cyber security breaches
always the same link

maybe they made the video too,
it was pretty bad, even by cgi standards.

Building
Upon
Something
It
Now
Exports
Some skills