it's not even a letter to my mother,
i'm actually grateful for having
shadow,
          and doubly thankful for not
having a muse that i could translate
into a verse akin to: something
i can't touch.
    and i'm thankful for the yellow
teeth of death...
           and i'm doubling up my prayers
for an early death...
           and with a loss of fear of owning
a shadow; i'm hoping for a world with
two suns... and how my shadow can double-up;
god i'm praying for a night, god...
i'm praying for a second shadow...
        how i always wanted to be twins...
      why didn't women neever give me a sense
of necessary sacrifice i should have
attempted to sacrifice myself to to abide
by the ring?
  that ring to rule them all... to be the metaphor
known as marriage? to disappear into
            being an old retired **** of a man?
i cry because of the music i listen to...
it has no relation to the realism of
   a "life" lived out...
                     people fear expressing
existence, you find them true to their word:
they'd rather live... they can't fathom an instance...
  music gets me... it weakens me...
                         music...
                           but then there's the mother-tongue,
and what i'm thinking about: i can't speak
it to a lover... to any lover...
           to anyone except apart from the child
i'm fathering, that is i...
          i'm just sick of my father playing the joker
card constantly pretending to be
          the ******* drama queen of the whole loss...
to be the tragedy... i'm tired of
listening to the "tragedy"... with house with wife...
what the **** do i have?
        a verse... a bed i don't own...
       a few books and a compilation of compact discs...
the only love i ever received ended with
the girl slapping me in the face while i lied
to her, attempting to make a career in chemistry
in scotland... obviously she was asking
for a ****** existence... keep the hard-on babe!
we're going into depths of titanic tourism!
       oddly enough i have no affiliation with
polish nationalism, as i neither have any with englishness...
      i'm actually a ****** when it comes
to the idea of nations... people talk liberals
in the modern sense and in the classical sense...
          how about usurpers? how about traitors?
seem to congest the same picture? no? i knew it wouldn't
amount to the conclusion...
i really wanted to talk about my life
   7 years ago...
                now?
            10 years and counting?
         ha ha... i want to see the world burn;
     i'm one of the few examples of a people that would
rather bite with fire into skin than with ink to
   keep people prone to keep the faculty of memory
active beyond taking to crosswords aged 60
   as some gym-session...
                            i can't compete... first she blames it
on a nurse in a hospital... then she tries to suffocate
me with the tip of a milk-bottle-****** by cutting excess
squirt...
                    now i'm supposed to be this:
"gift to womankind"... oh sure... sure...
                                          how about you **** yourself
and on the day that i learned: queen victoria
and her cousin albert got married...
         that **** ought to shoot up your head and burry
millions... modern criticism of islam?
          that's what christianity was in the 19th / 20th century...
cousin-*******...
                               i dare you! i double dare you
**** to try normal! if queens **** their cousins you try
to be normal! you're right in there with me,
entombed in the muddy trenches!