i picked up this book
walking down the street,
for all its suburbia,
it had the perfume of a bulgarian
brothel written onto it.
the book in question? a real brick...
nigel rees'
  - a word in your shell-life -
i started to sniff the book like
a dog might sniff candy...
**** all for **** to be honest,
the brothel, really was far away,
the bulgar girls were bound to
gay-sprechen...
    but at least i knew what **** was like:
bulgar girls like to fake oiling,
they oil-up their *****...
south african girls? n'ah ah!
   they ******* raw...
they ******* dry...
                  they **** you;
it had to take bulgar prostitutes to oil up
before ******* to then teach me
that sadistic south african ****** do it:
first that accepts me dry gets to **** my annie!
i'd rather pay and get what i want than
**** zombie-dry crap...
                or is that what you call it, or don't?
for some reason prostitutes made sense,
not these hyper-sensitive thingymajigs known
as women.. a bit like:
how do i open this oyster to give me a son?!
any willing ****** tell me how i do it?
no?! should i ask the oyster?
*****?! please?
            ***** won't say; says it **** fine
if she can buy oysters...
        tell her it's poetry? she laughs!
                   then she walks into an art gallery
and laughs... i'm also laughing...
democracy erases history, for whatever history
was worth...
   the autocrat carpe diem took over...
   never put a name to a ruling ideal...
                        the blame-game can go on for
the years ascribed to it... after that...
it becomes less an ideal and more an ideology..
you breed to ferment a d.n.a.
  continuation... to keep the "hieroglyphs"...
    toward the: thus far...
                               in the now, that isn't a day,
for for now, that isn't a keeping...
     are we to shelter ourselves with a hope?
        what could possibly equate thinking and doubting,
to precipitate that into cascade: into being or the stasis of i am            
indeed what did existentialism do, to inject
the cartesian model with denial and a loss of doubt?
do all emotions begin with d?
                  what of hope, and the subsequent concern for
wishful thinking?
                 are we all concerned with this illogical creatures?
if we are: then we all were to begin with;
and i have no rhyme, nor riddle to add,
to further this endeavour:
   that which asks the exponential question
and only tracts with an exponential answer...
     is not what the anglophone language state?
  akin to ¿? in terms of i!?
                        so bold! but yet so unnecessary!
yet there it is: the western "world".