now if an apache shaman became a president of the "free world" i'd be glad, over the moon sort of speak, but a former kenyan export of a cotton picker? not so much, puppet for the pseudo-europeans to my sour distaste. if a native indian made it to the throne i would have applauded: someone who's native of this land, actually in charge of it... you don't say... but a former slave ethnicity? that just breaks the jaw chandelier: i'll be impressed when i die and see the big picture. it's a bit like in europe, the modern renaissance happened in england in the 1960s... then disappeared to birmingham... the other venus of the north (2nd only to st. petersburg)... and then the resurrection of rome became the job of eastern europe "barbarians / invader," who became the cotton pickers of europe, told they were not europeans but closely related to neanderthals... while chopin boomed replicas in japan... i feel discouraged from being european altogether... i think i'll translate myself as japanese... and shake off these western rats... i'll don a beard and a samurai haircut... yeah, i'll do that, they might get the idea that's behind the rolling stones of numbering 4, ageing to be about
2 galapagos turtles in terms of accumulated age... oh you
won that capitalistic child-plot to compete, i assure you.*

all these dating websites are in the shallow pool
of spectacles, a man logs into a dating website and
looks for what's clearly a cobra, or the end of him,
or a femme fatale... she needs to be attractive,
intelligent and funny... i thought men were supposed to
be that... look what copernican feminism did,
it turned inside-out rather than upside-down...
when i look at women i look for three traits akin...
she needs to be patient...
she needs to be resilient...
she needs to be understanding...

(good looks can wait for the middle-aged lynx,
she got the hang of body after puberty
and became arrogant with it - own one own all
motto - babe your time will come to avoid
plastic surgery;
i'm *******, of course i am,
but i rather show it than suffer in silence
and become ******* in thinking it out;
you understand one, you understand all,
not really, put a hammer in a set of a hundred
*****-drivers and you get the odd one out,
at least picture it, opaque if it makes sense better;
p.s. don't mention the power of older men,
socrates had to become poor to speak wisely,
he got away with it... poor men like jesus
have to suffer in silence because
poor youth, or youth without ambition
is not really a rallying crowd motif)...

there was something else - you immediately stare
a cold blank for a slate that's required a blink
for a square of cement...
sometimes this homosexual dynamics turns
originally thought heterosexual males to try the back door,
the bony ****** of five counts is no longer
adequate... neither is the puppet in the hand...
it requires the stage... a completion of the play
with female genitalia, the empty void...
oh don't worry... i'm sure disney will find your
perfect match in the realm of tech-colour psychoanalysis
perfection... in order to control your "father,"
just so you can salt & pepper a son into a lullaby...
but try a daughter... ooh... pooh tosh too?
how sorry i am... i bet it wasn't as infectious thinking
that one through... malignant cancerous pore of
relating something to something...
but as they say in science in a mongrel relation
of trans-breed mixology of a cosmopolitan...
among atoms we are *****,
among stars we are little men...
remember the microscope and the telescope
are a staff... there are two arguments either side
of the relation of conversing about them...
we can relate to atoms as *****,
we can relate to stars as satellites or telescopes...
in a polite society dialectics is excused...
only because we measure distances of known bodies
to foreign bodies... but this also provides a slack
on what is deemed offensive in casual conversation
because offensiveness is a forced mono-dialectic
where no counter opinion exists due to a third party:
democracy of western society is rife with this.