why is the recognition of genius always a recognition of it taking place in kindergarden? i masturbated before i could produce *****, i taught a boy to do it too, i can tell you the male opera is purely muscular, i don’t know how the un-automated thought / soul was attached to explaining the futility of life as the futility of ***** seen without “motherly love.” i squeeze in white, red and ***** from my body, that’s not even the parallels of the russian flag, but it’s what i am in sentence. i yanked the noun now, but i was yanking the thing before it became a noun and a cognitive calculation used / unused in candlelight on friday’s expectation exasperated: bedded but not wedded. cheat philosophy using grammar, grammaticised is also philosophised.*

i speak my vanity sometimes,
no wonder i grasp
the root of ferns with care
to water them into acknowledging
a belonging in salzburg
when nothing was cherished there -
so took to making london a symphony,
no. 4 in a# and new year's eve:
but i always liked oinking second names and third names
with a confirmation of the church to make
white napkins purple velvet...
to avoid the idol hammer mush and the... lucky *******...
deciphering spies of the crossword.