i do remember the scorn your encountered by the next of kin, for not having memorised the alphabet, to some stupid degree of accuracy, fetish of the french i call it... why not put all the vowels first and all the consonants after? so why care for the diabolical aristocratic monopoly on these symbols, having to cite a, b, c, d, e, f, g... rather than a, e, i, o, u, b, c? idiots! or should i say... ***** *******?*

i see friendship as a two tier system,
a friend allows you
to forget your reflective nature,
spelled out in the affirmative (
not compounded): your self...
but allows you the medium
they know you by, in a sense
the reflexive nature, spelled out
in affirmation: yourself.
the reflective nature of things stands
in unison with all the things
required: photosynthesis for example...
god still remains a complexity of language,
or how far language can complicate
matters so that no horrid activity can
fester... god is a word presiding over
the complication of the expression
of language, everything else is dumb-struck
deity orientation where we can laze
for an eternity: drunk, or gluttonous
or otherwise... but find me a drunkard who
composes on the additive? how many
drunk and therefore violent fathers
have crossed the threshold with drink
but wrote no single poem by medicating
on alcohol as an active sedative?
and how many partied on other drugs?
and dumb things drinking, while
the legislators caste in shadow of neither
vishnu blue, scandinavian bleach
hair and ivory skin or the african with
chocolate and auburn and short tailing-off
of curls turned to scorched frizzle of afro...
where among them the true identity of legislators?
nowhere... the masked identity to involve
a hidden tidal wave of the many,
later disrupted by a collective-consciousness
that democracy is, preceding jung's theory
of the collective-unconscious,
democracy is not carl jung... but it's its chiral
composite pair...
so friendship is the allowance of the self in reflex
akin to knee jerking or heart peeping into
rhythms escaping a finality / banality of
the measure of stone of standing still...
there is no friendship when the self disengages
from its reflexive naturalisation into social
circumstance (spelled yourself),
and engages in the reflective naturalisation
into anti-social circumstance of
body tiniest like among jupiter moon alaska
and all other shares of size (spelled your self)...
so then the inverse numerology:
C, one hundred... there is no T unless it be
the time concerned suffering on a crucifix...
but then there's the XI... eleven...
turn numerology on its head...
peer into something abstract associated
with the twinning of words, words twinned
to a bare minimum... so akin in misguided
uses as to appear so akin as to be readily
misused, upon the matter of twinned-pronunciation
without a necessary dichotomy that's already
there, for the optics dare not like,
but the tongue makes a porridge of the sound
then usurps the twinned sounds to opposing
spelling that the optics finds appealing.