on his count, i'll spare my words, and make it
terse... that's implying: no point talking  without
his presence... i too would
admire what the  ukranian cossacks
feared; how's that for a literary
three-tier feast of supposed
boredom? thank **** that
i speak two tongues and was
"treated" by mono-lingual
psychiatrists... confuses them,
gets into their head that they are
hardly the doctors envisioned
on the operating table given the patient
is awake... talking to a chemists:
brain chemistry? you sure you're not
in dante's hell with your head twisted
backwards? you sure? i'm not so sure...
i could really make a living by
      doing the somali twist...
  of asking for compensation
for being misdiagnosed
on the n.h.s. budget... but i'll be nice...
i'll just invoke a grudge...
    oh sure... pay  my compensation into
the grave: you misdiagnosed me,
you pay the horrors...
   i'll be doing the pontius pilate...
   i, am, done, here... you deal with it...
     i'm into washing my hands clean...
no point asking me,
                  no point bewildering me,
                no point persuading me...
   let's call it: the deal's end,
you're a cossack,
and i'm jeremi wiśniowiecki;
wow... look at you!
exploring the "exotica" of
europe!
        aren't ye, a pretty sight!
                              any more of you?
my shadow is a bit hungry,
it could do with a many more thoughts
to eat...
           oh... you forgot?
  umbra sum vaecor cogitans...
  that the shadow exists because it eats
thought...
   kant already suggested:
    by sticking to the analogy of sushi -
or something cold:
  no wonder that shadow eats thought,
while being feeds shadow,
      allocated to the suntan and the sundial;
o bewilderer narcissus -
if only you took the shadow
                          as your beloved!
what thought-conjuring would you
   have exposed! what could have been
anti-mathematical in the dimension
of the 4th!