dis- (negation of) -ease can take up so many forms of expression, the likely venture in a coffee shop with espressos variants and mocha coffee, or the lattes and something else.
which hardly means Paul McCartney dreaming up *yesterday or Robert Stevenson with dr. jekyll and mr.vhyde - when the weaknesses of yours express themselves naturally - you accept them - the only riches are bound to health - all others care nothing - take away the able body or the mind - and you take social realities - i remember running wild with Peter and Ciarán - slobbering off car parks on people's heads with spit, surviving mugging, getting underwear-wedged on park fences - deciding to smoke *** aged 21 for the first time - listening to Limp Biscuit while playing pool and donning Samuel L. Jackson Kangoo hats john otto, take 'em to the matthew's bridge - ****'s sake, the who?! long gone. moths frantic right now - we walked the mall, the bought artefacts before digitalisation took over - and the book was lost among toilet-paper heaps - 'cos when you need a ****** to wipe his **** you need to write a book - to feel seminal and human. like the way Ilford high-street changed from Jew haven into Bombaystan - that Ilford is mythical - clever cue to suit a hardened worth of wearing tuxedo - Maggie in the Sky filled with Piggy-stockpile Metaphors - white boy rap - coo or undo clue - the same **** precipitates into brown men in autumn salivated together with oak drop leaves - so hey ***, how's my solo? good or not good enough to churn a mirror scene at a party? 'cos the cool kids "hang out", i guess **** of butter either. as abandoned poetics had it: ensure it rhymes. but it was me Peter and Ciarán on the weekend - hell-raisers before i started smoking dope - oh come on! i just turned 30 i'm allowed slang - it's not unruly to rule the rubric with some sentiment without wish for retirement - ah man, that ****** in South Park - Ciarán just hanging there in mid-air - got a g-string to boot - i have to admit, the smart ones in England got out of the education system aged 16 - the dumb-***** made it to university - connectivity came in even if you excelled - the smart ones got out aged 16 - dumb ones like us with immigration a surrogate family of ideas kept it up to university level and received jiggly-squat of **** to get bothered in encouraging attention to the idea of society - gave up, rebelled, started singing X Ambassadors' song like Christmas carols - readying ourselves for our parents to die, watching our parents watching their parents die - readying for the squat - as i once said: i know a place where i can bottle clean Evian water - you have to pass the centurion guards that might kick you in the head if you try feeding them your hand rather than a sugar-cube... but that's fresh water - some *** left a ceramic tomb where the stream runs free. or the maxim from high-school: take a picture... it'll last longer; it doesn't matter, aged 18 through to 21 i was sticking ******* into my mouth to imitate a Roman rite of passage - just when Eminem came out - and wrestling was a beehive with Kane and the Undertaker and StoneCold - cheeky chic wahwah on the turntables - but **** me that ****** on the park fence by a centimetre missing Ivan the Impale(r)'s tactic - at this point can come like an e-mail, that @ stamp can **** itself... i'm ready... it's the cinema that no one bothers with - there for the taking - spitting on a man's head from a car-park uppermost level - getting ****** for the first time with white lightning cider. Pete? lost his teeth, got a mother of a beauty's worth of **** last time i met him in a pub - Ciarán became a nightclub door gorilla - well, you know my story - it's hardly the twinning of the Krays - although that was on the cards - last time the high-school people were together we were at the Beckton bowling-alley jumping into plastered fake walls head-diving until i broke the wall with a cranium of an elephant's worth of horizontal canon-ball gravity propeller; mind you, Beckton stinks of **** in the high season of the recycling harvest - A13 via Barking? i'm not too sure - i never bothered to learn to drive - i took the Chinese route - bus stop wankers? sure. bicycle wankers? tell that to the Beijing horde - shame i boxed Ciarán's kidneys in once before we were lessened in B-tech queuing to enter class.