and there was me walking past
some imaginary graffiti...
at this point: i forgot to concern
myself with the narrative...
it's there: arrived at...
on a whim...
            i am beyond apathetic...
it's not like a feminist nun
could...
spend her time listening to...
a misanthrope...
but we all know...
what the good philanthropists
get up to...

first one read the acronym...
B.L.M...

   another reads...
     A.L.M.

  which is crossed out...
and a footnote is added...
with some emphasis...

        that B. does indeed M.
                        
   hell... i'm throwing a penny
into the pocket...
and ******* against the wind...
with my own...

spin on topic...
   O.B.L.M.
       well... given: A.L.M. needs
to be... negated.

truly: i don't know whether
my tongue is sometimes tied
to expressing a presence of body...
294 havering road was confused
by the postman for 294
pettits lane north...
   so i delivered the package...
12 hours "late" and took
a walk with four ciders...
to catch... twilight in the woods...

i said: ee'mah rather than em'ah...:
it read emma... and wright...
i'm in england and i don't speak
a lot of english...
                i write enough...
    i like to call myself a grammatical
tyrant of this little space of my
own...

and to walk... is to feel one has
legs...
   to hell with owning a car...
when one could still...
love a ride of a horse...

  to walk for a good 4 mile...
up a hill into shaded wooden
nighs of twilight...

a right ol' tourist in these
parts... smoking some marijuana...
headphones tight...
on the cranium like a crown...
about to... take the 103 route
from the north eastern tip
of greater london into...

      but the demise...
as the bus sped away en route...
i didn't see the tourist
on the upper-deck of the double-decker...
on the lower-deck... at the back...

if i had the marijuana...
and the same joy for riding buses...
i'd be sitting on the top deck...
looking buddha-amused / buddha-bemused...

i really did come to the conclusion
that: i wanted to drink to feel a tilt of
a drunkard in me...
4 ciders are 8.2% a pop...
       16 units... and all that ***** whiskey
mixed with bourbon...
and i'm still... typing away like
a hyena...

i dream so rarely... but i woke up with a dream...
forbidden fruit...

    Kirmiji Orzalacht
   Orżalacht - and I saw the word
written in elaborate runes -
   with gold-flakes to dorn its labyrinth...
told I was copying it with
too much detail...
     pressured... told to keep
the phonetic essence of it...
it opened a portal...
       a garden...
   "to bring back the garden
started but not he gardener"...

i haven't heard: or seen... a word..
for that matter: two! in such details...
is it an anagram?
   Kirmiji Orzalacht
                    Orżalacht...
                     ­    i wouldn't just wake up...
and need to write these words down...
phonetic: kir-me'yee o'j'ah-lax't...
                      it doesn't translate...
even with phonetic efforts...

    come to think of it... walking england
along...
one can confuse and pardon...
a people who have been given...
the isolation of the icelandic people...
yet all the perks of a melting ***
of the continental ******* wormhole of history...
the definite history: european...
but also... the double definited...
when some foreign entity feels inclined
to overcome the natives...
it's not... akin to cross the Danube river...
or the Oder...

          with a clarity of borders bound
to the confines of an island...
oh... this pretty land of spare souls...
readied for... retention in foreign *****
of alien fathers and surrogate mothers...
as the raj might prescribe...
with her litany of insurgent spices...
cumin, coriander, cardamom...
chilli... turmeric... star anise... etc.

          a magic hour! twilight in the woods!
the sun is... turned into a drowning man...
her last resort of a horizon of day...
is riddled with razors...
and she's cutting her hands to stay afloat
upon the "meridian" 180!

what mistanthrope?
and at what hour... could i entertain...
the company of a single crow without
a commune...
or the rabbits readily prancing...
             i couldn't abhor the plumber
for the plumbing...
              i couldn't... abhor... the god and
readily given... ghost of self:
the surgeon...
              but...
       when it comes to drinking?
       i much rather exhaust my legs...
and feel that i still have them...
having walked...
                and i much prefer drinking
alone...
  the woods are a cushion for the ears...
and... somehow...
all the eyes warrant a desire to peer at...

drinking with people has always
been my worst lot of... wasting time...
i can't remember...
the last person i drank with...
who succumbed to a hardened:
pensive mood...
always that feminime... melancholic...
diatribe sorrow...
fetish tear-****-offs...
            
                 who could ever want to know me...
i should have remained at...
        Taizé...
                         i would have have gladly
sacrificed the world... thrice over!
to live the life most mundane...
rather than have to suffer...
to live... a life... most mediocre.

tongue licking tombstone slabs...
i hope... my words...
fall like... mountains...
upon a concentrated lot of... stones.

"part and parcled" and that "oh my":
the tender hand of argument:
a left... a right... a left-right...
and right-left and some...
quasimodo (0,0) vector cull for:
that long lost forgotten: "oopsie"...

        oh! right! it's called: the culture... "war"...
it was called the cold war
when the russians were pressuring
everyone to play... their version
of the roulette!

fine... at least when: agianst the russians...
you know... siberian psychopaths...
complete animals... siberian
warlords of some grass some snow...
some siberian tundra...
culture... "war"?
more like... cultural sparring...
war against who and with that:
against who: with what?!
we're only sparring...
there was never a culture war...
there was cultural sparring...
which... evidently had to become
something ******... in terms of...
what was... hoarded...
exchanged...

there is no more a cultural war
than there ever was a cold war...
i like to call it cultural sparring...
hyped-up invigoration tactics:
war! sign me up uncle sam!
sign me up: papa bad bear: russia's
a'coming siberian neglect!

what war?! we're only sparring...
and people somehow have this
deluded presence of...
if we were at war...
there would be a...
                          Schwerer Gustav...
there would be... a Spitfire...
there would be a b-52 bomber...
  culture war...
         "war"... concerning someone
who has ingested the cultural export
of h'america for the past 30 years...
we're not at war!
we're only... merely... sparring!

grandiosity of cuck-filling ****-supreme
and... there has never been...
a Helen likely: worth of instigating...
a "genesis" of events!
*******...
    cultural war?!
                i want to... scream!
would you either eat an oyster...
or some... caviar?
can you please... provide me...
with a slow motion cinema of...
a movie: the presence of an oyster...
i'll eat anything that doesn't move...
i'll **** anything that does...

caviar wins!
concentrated fish stink and palette..
anything than...
attempting: slurping...
a metaphor... a brain...
a wriggling brain chimp: + some
gerbil... oozing out a crescendo of...
loitering... scrambled... abortion
towing: "typos"...

what cultural war?
if the chinese were conscriptd to march...
it wouldn't be an advent of the mongols
at baghdad...
if the chinese were conscripted to march...
lucky for all of us..
they designated a wall for themselves
to be: riddled by a buttocks...
and roots and... a hyphenated orchestra
of blooming...
        
india can spar with china...
2 billion their own equal...
someone goes missing...
it totals up their own concern for:
"cost"...

             there is not cultural war...
we're only culturally: sparring...
anything elevating such events as:
overtly serious is... giving toward misgiving...
it was originally orientating a:
lessening of statue and abiding to probe:
caricatures...

if there was a war... trigger-happy...
trigger-itchy...
       but there isn't a war...
if there was a war...
  israel would... concern itself
with much more than its...
proxy-encrusting-stature-of-a-levelling...

culture war is such an...
over-inflated term...
                     culture-sparring...
like cultural-sparring when the cold-war
was at its height...
cold war... poker salvaging...
two sides warring with: de facto joker
hand-outs...

              no... not this...
this is... a postcard from a heaving
sigh of a haven: that's not heaven...
something more realistically:
heaved... a ridicule with a clue: stone...
because...
that's not what... a levelling
of a mountain gives concerns for...
some rubble plateau...
some... itch... some...

                 ah! that... das boot... theme!
because... who are not...
the german... in grieving a romance...
when not being able to...
give levelling...
to... the crime of frothing waves...

that much i might mind...
the magic hour: the twilight in the woods.

Kirmiji Orżalacht:
               i might somehow wish to want:
to loiter...
             TORA TORA TORA...
it truly is... a samurai slit...
of affairs...
       one army attacks another army...
the palestinian shielf preface...
the japanese attacked a military presence...

auschwitz and nagasaki...
perfected gain of: war...
men ascribed to the expression
of the theatre of war...
warring...
but no... it was not... "fair"...
the pearl habour "unfucked" / "unloved"
had to find...
their suitor best...
when... civilians were to be minded...
a pointlessness of auschwitz...
the blink-of-an-eye hiroshima...

       it was... a fair attack:
         so... who gives a ****... the h'american
soldiers were... sleeping...
sun-bathing in the hawaiiean sun?
        it was... a... fair... attack...
i don't need to be asked permission...
for a worth of persuasian...
years since TORA TORA TORA...
years since PEARL HARBOR...
          with whoever it was that starred
in that... custard fish of fetish...

            great h'america...
auschwitz prolonged by years...
hisroshima: dead-end...
in a blink of an eye...
             because "ukraine" somehow still
matters... the... starvation project...
of the 1930s...
                
  the attack on pearl harbor was
an honest act of war!
the dropping of the atom-bomb...
on hiroshima...
the use of civilians...
to end a war...
                    what is so fair:
as to then heave a monopoly
of exporting movies to...
the last: beside "your" owned
corner of the world...

     to heave a breath against those
best providing...
that's one thing...
anyone well paid would
be best assured to simply shut... up...
but not... when one is sold
a propaganda narrative...

   pearl harbor was once...
tora tora tora...
                      i don't even want
to entertain this narrative...
and their liberty...
and their shining emblem...
whatever it is that they thought
they had...
this mongrel nation et al hybrid
loitering... yes... all that...

there was a once upon a time
invting my parents
to go over... "there"...
           to... schlomo...
and to... jarput-e...
             a ******* stance for a 7/11...
                 how about...
the magic dries up?

(This poem can be sung to the tune of the traditional Scottish folk song "My Bonnie Lies over the Ocean.")

D.T.:
“Oh, I have no problem with war crimes,
Though some people might disagree.
That anything goes is my doctrine.
No, war crimes do not bother me.

(Chorus)
“War crimes, war crimes,
Oh, war crimes do not bother me, not me.
War crimes, war crimes,
No, war crimes do not bother me.

“Some people frown upon torture.
They think it's cruel and perverse.
But I think that it can be useful.
Restrictive rules are such a curse.

“War crimes, war crimes,
Oh, war crimes do not bother me, not me.
War crimes, war crimes,
No, war crimes do not bother me.

“Terrorists are a big nuisance.
But one way to spoil their plots
Is to go after their loved ones.
Then they might have second thoughts.

“War crimes, war crimes,
Oh, war crimes do not bother me, not me.
War crimes, war crimes,
No, war crimes do not bother me.

“Soldiers out there who've committed
War crimes are heroes, you see.
I'll gladly give them a pardon
‘Cause war crimes do not bother me.

“War crimes, war crimes,
Oh, war crimes do not bother me, not me.
War crimes, war crimes,
No, war crimes do not bother me.

“To leaders who rule other countries,
Listen to me, for I swear
I'll bomb your cultural centers.
Let ALL the world's nations beware.

“War crimes, war crimes,
Oh, war crimes do not bother me, not me.
War crimes, war crimes,
No, war crimes do not bother me.”

-by Bob B (1-8-20)

methane and maybe online shopping?

he once said that there would be no sheep
if we all ate vegetables only

i suggested there may still be
yet wild
free to live a gentle life like me

cheese is where i fail
i fried it yesterday like
my foster mother made
for supper

her husband down in the studio
the bell between them to call

he was at dunkirk
stuck in the water
hours, & shot in the leg

there were other care
places in the past

now i don’t care
there are no records
they say there was a fire

or something

he painted golden sunsets
over the sea
limped and was kinda nice
i remember

i am wearing last year’s sandals
and got changed after gardening
to look tidy

a first
this lockdown

james

things tucked in nicely
since all this excercise
walking and cutting things

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