well, if you write "poetry", and have no intention
to sing it, to praise some populist theme...
you end up working in a music "shop",
  of your own private library.

saying that... the best albums i ever purchased
were in scotland...
                 english was ****** for original
purchases...
                      nothing really stood out outside
of the charts, nothing obscure.

   and yes, i can enter a trance, listening
    to foster the people's song pumped up kids,
and then downing another blackbeard
   (dark *** and ms. pepsi) -
switching to lemmy kilmister's first band
        hawkwind's song about the partriach
of the nizari ismailis (assassins)
                                      hassan i sahba...
they got high from shish-kebabs and hashish...
               i'm a drunk... and all the better for it.

i don't understand why subjectivity is so wrong...
          i've been watching people stress
science, and the objective paradigm...
              esp. the atheistic paradigm...
              of **** me, the ad nauseam set of rules
to call someone stupid...
          it started with goldfish... only 2 second's
worth of attention span...
                how do you know?
              well... the fish is going mad, being stuck
in a fish bowl, on its own, with no other
fish as worthy points of reference...
    it's obviously going to evolve a coping mechanism,
of blitzkrieg amnesia...
  
the joke hasn't even arrived...
      i remember being apprehensive of marilyn manson
when he stormed the scene in the early 2000s...
but i, for some reason, managed to freak / scare
  two people with my taste in music borrowed
from scotland (the music store fopp)...
   a guy with    greenskeepers' song lotion...
and a former girlfriend with
    gong's song radio gnome invisible...
         mind you, the whole album the latter mention
is derived from, flying teapot is an l.s.d. trip
for the ears;
    **** me... the song ***-head pixies?!
          
          i love the fact that we've inherited this archive
of music...
                     sure, in the 20th century you could
celebrate classical music (as, ahem, one pop poet
did)...
                     but that sort of high-brow attitude
became suffocating...
                   esp. in the current hundred years;
       nothing wrong, i sometimes go to the opera,
and ballet...
                         it's not like i'm saying:
    now, i'll insert this needle into my ear criticism...
all in all...
                    i miss the fact that i could once stroll
through an english highstreet,
      and feel a need to buy something i really needed,
like a new music album...
                then the internet "somali" pirates came...
how many ******* shoes do i actually need?
   or mobile phones?
                             or fried chicken nuggets?

i've been wearing the same clothes for the past
    two or more weeks...
          khaki trousers, chocolate shoes,
         and a chequered green and white shirt...
   does the shirt stink?
            i shower every day, i'm a hygienic-conscious
alcoholic...
          i still use the required amount of toothpaste
as said unto children: a pea sized amount,
        done under 30 seconds, and plenty of rinsing.

i can't remember the last time i was walking down
a highstreet in england...
                       i might, if i went into a charity shop
and bought a second-hand book...
                 but last time i went into a charity shop,
i was donating a book,
          richard dawkin's the god delusion,
            with a piece of toilet paper for a bookmark;
and i wiped my *** on that book, good and proper.