i'm always hopeful, at not invoking tedium, by writing at a sonic pace. saying that, i hope you realise that poetry compliments music at every corner, by basically stating that, it can exist outside the realm of formality, of writinf a letter, with the following schematics:

        dear x,
..............................................................­.
...............................................................­.....
.....................................................
.....­.................................................................­.........

       kind regards / yours faithfully / yours sincerely

that sort of use of language is a moths' gathering
in your wallet, that's your mouth...
                 people are always trying to break away
from the formality of language...
                  so, like music, being a transcendent
excavation of sounds beyond the realm of
             hammers, nails, saws...
               so too poetry, toward the beyond,
                                                     of menial talk;
it's not lyricism, i concede on that point,
               but it's hardly an example of formal
affairs, like writing a letter,
          beginning with                        dear....
                                  and ending with yours.

cats... i generally consider "autistic",
within a comparison with dogs,
they're introverts...
         but i get spooked when a cat
stares at me for too long...
            you are naturally pre-disposed
when dogs look at you for a long period...
  why have i become so fascinating
to a cat, though?
             that **** can give you the chills...
like you're about to ***** a *sphinx,
or something of that magnitude;
so i decided to hide, and write this
                                                  piece.
for­ a time, i thought was boring,
      evidently it's anything but, boring;
i guess it's with regard to the relativism
of china's one child state policy,
and the western concept of solipsism...
    you start to conjure up eerie experiences
that no one would believe,
                as having happened to you...
because the counter to western "critical
                                            thinking",
is that subjectivity can-not exist...
                             subjectivity is a dead end
when talking to a westerner,
           the 1984 scenario of: no feeling allowed...
**** me! what an ingenious conceptualißation
into reaching into robotics!
          ooh stop feeling... ooh man-up!
                thanks, but no thanks...
       eat your cottage pie... and then... *******!
because how can i listen to an opera,
          and only hear singing, when i can't feel
it? in its transcended form, of penetrating
me beyond my sense of hearing?
                      that's platonism by the way...
there's no empirical stabilißation
                         toward responding to an opera
or any other genre of music that solidifies
a sense of hearing...
                  since, evidently, listening to someone
hammer nails for an hour doesn't
translate into listening to a piece of music
     and since they equate as the same in terms
of a sense of hearing...
         well... "thinking"-wise?
                           the hammer sound doesn't
attain a status of, allowing yourself, a heart.