oh right, so your "sanity"
& sobriety
is somehow the justifiable
compensation?
a justifiable compensation
for anything
clothed in ambiguity,
in poetry, but specifically
in metaphor?
the geometric nativity
of a 1 + 1 = 2 gets you
along a path for so long...
afterwards, it just
becomes a burden
requesting interest:
ever heard that famous quote:
yawn?
         i'm starting to
gravitate toward insects,
since my lack of ambition
to **** one of them
has become a jain spectacle
of sometimes
levitating toward
a jarska dieta -
namely a vegeterian diet,
where a cauliflower
with fried breadcrumbs replaces
potatoes...
and there's the botwinka -
namely?
     a baby beetroot borsch -
from the leaves -
   hard-boiled eggs and potatoes...
cream to garnish...
  perhaps some parsley to boot...
the english always out-smart
themselves into becoming idiots,
    in the same way the the americans
attend the spoof of their acting out
being complete idiots, which they
aren't... question is,
   why are the russians sober,
even though they've been drinking
a litre of ***** and can still relate to
rhetoric?
not me, i just noted
a chipmunk raiding a newspaper
filled with fat english chips, deep fried
by a turk!