i'm not writing, more or less simply knitting, a jumper -
which is more than just a mere poem.
the comfort allowance, listening to delta goodrem
      and i love pop,
                      more than a rugby
player aged ~20,
                       mind you,
sometimes labouring over one
selfie with 20 Chinese to match
makes you feel oh so good -
                   it took those 20 Chinese
the same effort - pretty white girl
and blonde syndrome,
                        eastern Europe gets a sniff
and simply says: well, that' ****, isn't it?
                      the days that came with
the motto: we need astronauts more than
tourists...
                     days like these i rather take selfies
of the sleeper than write something...
                and i do...
i fiddle on the roof
                                          and cartoon the rest...
                   because that matters.
                            pristine Australian and the gimmicks
worthy of South Korean singalongs....
                                          next in line
***** duped Jews...
                                     whenever the gentleman
lost hist top-hat and the confectioner glyph typo -
                       me and an audience?
as in a day job?
                                  i don't mind...
                        d'ah la la la...
                                              and the piano....
                these days are rare....
                                                having enough words
in-tune with all others...
                                                     of such days
i say: sometimes a picture revitalises the lost words....
               and when encouraged
                                         a slip-up of beckoning...
readied for an avalanche -
                                   to make writing into
knitting a jumper or a scarf...
                                           equivalent...
in a society that deems Japanese culture
                  inquiries
                                     as the righteous standards
to avoid the jobs of nursing and dentistry -
                        well...
                               ­         we're in sure need of robotics
to ease off stress that our societies have
themselves halving demand...
                   sure, she's still there,
crazy naked and starving a kaleidoscope hope
                    of reminiscence
                             concerning a fear of spiders:
that do not weave webbing...
                                        the size of your palm...
        those ones, scary...
                                          that context of x,
between agoraphobia minor
                                                (in an urban setting)            
                            and agoraphobia major
in an countryside setting -
                           phobia: or the intricate fear
when an antidote is due because of too much rationalism -
                           agoraphobia minor:
              fear of being in an open space with too many people...
agoraphobia major:
                               fear of being in an open space
anticipating a congregation that never comes...
                       i'm enthralled by these compounds:
kindred of: lithium salts - or other compounds.
                     sometimes just a day with a selfie...
or a poem like this: an exercise in utilising language
                                  to no grand scheme of making a profit:
rather an indentation, and nothing more.