globalisation does this, all in favour? aye! all in opposition? nay!

                                        multi-cultural societies
and their pastas and pizzas,
their curry take away, their Chinese noodles,
their Thai their Sushi, and the Turkish kebab -
it's a smouldering cauldron of simply
no identity, eat a raw herring and pack your
bags to Scandinavia -

                                      if i came with a strong
rooting in Slavic myths, the identity of the land,
the dwarf gods of the forest (bořki - ate the
z of what would have been a German equivalent
ß - but here, the erzett - or to put it otherwise
for aesthetic purposes: ż - no, no one is
illiterate, it's just that people haven't been told
that we write for aesthetic reasons, as well
as functioning / utility reasons -
i am an orthographic reformer - i want the greatest
upheaval in language) -
                                
                                Argentinian steak houses -

but otherwise eat a raw herring and pack
your bags... globalisation will not make any of
us proud of our ethnicity, or culture bound
to birth, there must be a way out -
social patriotism intact, after all a universal
thing to mind: the golden rule - never do unto
others what you wouldn't want others to do
unto you - but we need teeth, we need grip...

we need myths! as of the neighbours of the Baltic,
and England unique as having experienced
Cnut but not Vasa - nothing cliche about it -
the folk element is there, and i fit the bill
for the looks - that's the easy part -
but in heart some third language that makes me
feel, purely feel, and not understand -
that's neither Polish (too personal, goes to the bone
and is reflexive - insults against ethnicity) - nor English (too
personal, goes to the brain and is reflective -
insults against intelligence) -
                                        
                                             a third party associate,
one of pure heart, raw berserk emotion -
befitting a poem at every turn -
i need a language of mediating these two cripples -
i have no care for liver for kidney and now, apparently
even the brain... **** it... let's stick to the heart
and keep it the essence of all things soulful -

as soul known to chemists be: the one element of
man that's indestructible - for whatever reason,
the love bound to reach the highest of alchemy's
mysteries - the more verbiage necessary to stand firm
with a love for your enemies - the philosopher's stone
refers to the heart - as is the depiction by Luca Signorelli -
the genius element being the left hand ever
present through the robes -

                                                 how to give the left hemisphere
under siege a spy's stealthy hand in diabolical matters,
in perfect equilibrium with the right's natural strength
at holding quill or sabre, condensed into mutually inclusive
by a keyboard -

so unto the heart of Scandinavia, esp. that Faroe dullness
for the mind to fathom when the heart born from
such lands sees a heart entertained by the bleakness
and the Orca poaching season of reddened northern waves
in the marina, where the Orcas are grouped together
and slaughtered for food -

so as this goes on - a return to the most poignant critique
of mutli-cultural society - well, not really...
just this debilitating status quo mediation between
mr. anonymous and mr. famous -
fame isn't fame as it used to be known -
by fame i imagine Galileo - by fame i imagine Copernicus -
by fame i imagine Kant - as pretentious as name dropping
might seem, fame for me equates itself to sustenance -

nourishment - a welcome return of debate and the unresolved
plucking of those floreo interrogatio -
not what's now just the same as packaged goods -
toothbrushes are also famous, so are tables and chairs,
lightbulbs are pretty famous too...

celebrities that are nothing more than packaged books -
what exposed them? they all need books, autobiographies!
that's what exposed them... they did the opposite
of what the Nazis did in Munich that one time
with that one time bonfire... these books are already burning,
well my mind at least, if you touch them i'm sure
they're quiet cool.

                                better than fame, better than
posthumous "fame" - to live a life that will give rise
to a myth - to apply yourself, not to any specialisation
with a logic as its suffix - i.e. not ontology, not biology,
not psychology - like mathematics being the queen (królową)
of learning (nauk) - mythology is the king (król)
of unlearning and of awe (oduczać się) - which does

not entirely mean neglect - once you have learned to
learn to ride a bicycle, once you learn to swim -
these two are very much hard to completely neglect and
by neglecting forget - here then,

                                         while the rats scamper and scuttle
for the big cheese and perfectly flossed teeth -
a ceramic doll's face - i'm in the forests in the dark of
night - a forest heavily influenced by the perfumery
of wet autumn leaves fallen with their drained
green chlorophyll allowing space for the perfumery
when at night the earth breathes, in the colder months -
the earth looses and Ypres mud wets the shoe.

globalisation also shows the ugly side of monotheism,
Christianity, you can't possibly think is a serious
monotheism, can you? three in one, two for one,
buy two get the third one gratis, what with the pagan
elements of the Christmas tree, chocolate *****
of castrated hares to celebrate the crucifixion (crucifix
jewels on the necks) and Santa Claus that's merely
an an anagram of Satan's Clause, something to do
with the jurisprudence of: well, technically not vanquished,
left standing in Mecca counting how many
loafs of bread are under his feet from the Muslims
throwing pebbles at him.