a man walks into a supermarket, he picks up an orange (30 pence a piece), and then heads for his usual shopping spree: a bottle orum & a bottle of ms. m. pepsi; walking to the cashier, he gets "interrogated": what's the orange for? ah... poached pears, i never cooked poached pears, i'm curious, but i didn't have an orange to make poach pears today, had the handy citrus of a lemon, but i really needed the orange... hence the orange.

and **** me, i can even make a soufflé...
not that hard, just a tender moment
where you squeeze your heart out
and turn a pair of lumberjack hands,
into the hands of a surgeon -

and yes, the joke is:
   the hands shake upon the first drink;
after a few?
       steady as a rhythm of a heartbeat.

mind you, there is that eerie moment when
you're walking on the outskirts of a city,
and you nearly match the pace of
a woman walking in front of you...
the eeriness disappears in a crowd,
   but when two strangers end up walking
in close proximity, with one being
the woman ahead, and the other being
a man just behind:
   the lion-hyena dynamic:
          carnivore parasite walking behind
the roar...
         i hardly think it's lechery that's to be
minded, it's just the oddity, esp. during the night...
and given it's the outermost tip of suburbia,
well, you get the idea...
all i needed to zenith at a fetish
was a pair of headphones and *pseudo echo's
song his eyes blasting into my ear
like a pneumatic drill...

i really did feel like satan this time round,
hellfire on the breath, and a fruit in my hand:
**** me, i haven't seen a decent movie
in ages, thankfully being an only child:
i have managed to entertain myself with
the most, crude, props.

speaking of which: the transgender movement
is really ****** that nag hammadi
library, aren't they? the st. thomas gospel is
all ablaze, it's the rave party coming to
the second burning of the library of alexandria...
and with this unearthing?
   well... the quran is... a tad bit pointless...
no wonder they're *******...
   but i mean, what's with this m.g.t.o.w. acronym?
i don't get it:
   i, for one, believe myself the practitioner
of a pontius pilate "chess" move...
   i, simply, washed, my, hands, clean on the matter...
evidently there's a difference between
shoving your tongue into a newly acquired
canvas of spreschen: namely the cognitive ****
that my host provided,
   and another to actually shoving a ****:
up a rotten **** of: some call it strange,
some call it oblivious, some call for nosferatu,
never quiet the sober economic policies
of communism: after all - if you want to rebuild
a country, capitalism isn't, going to exactly
"work"... as long as the people can reach with
re-instigating a plateau from the dis-synchronised
nadir, then at least upon reaching a synchronised
plateau, they can later attain a "dis-synchronised"
zenith - communism ends up being
a buffer zone for the time being...
      well, it's effective, not as permanent ideology
but as a temporary solution:
  given that almost every is miserable
after a conflict: why deny the effectiveness of
this post-conflict economics?
      
so, yeah... what was i saying?
   (your ice cubes are melting in the sharpshooter,
******, make it snappy!)
        
  was i really thinking about the event horizon
of the earth's atmosphere, how there are
only three primary colours: blue, brown & green,
and how they are also called the alt. primary:
namely the iris colours?
            n'ah... couldn't have...
   but wait (i have the attention span of a cat,
easily fickle) -
         i swear i was! thoughts have become like
dreams,
   i hardly remember any unconscious roulette
that dreams have become, and in that being the case,
10 minutes ago i don't know,
   what was i thinking?
was i even thinking?
             the event horizon though,
where the atmosphere ends, and the vacuum of space
begins... so what part that Na (sodium) have
in this membrane?
         so the sun shines on the oceans
and that's how we have blues skies...
     so are we encrusted by a membrane of salt?

philosophy: are you just lazy, or just plainly
  stupid?
              don't know, that's a cyclic questions -
and it's not that it deserves an answer,
or doesn't,
       but it's what any gandalf said
    of peregrin took:
fool of a took, throw yourself in next time
and riddle some of your stupidity!

       well... there's that aspect of the subject -
as there's also the "m.g.t.o.w." pontius pilate
effect...
            i'm done, i'm washing my hands clean,
of the zeitgeist matters all too apparent...
        this is the only resting place,
   of men who idealised women, too much,
    and in their delusion prior to a complete
(*** included) encounter with these creatures -
have, not so much been left "burnt", exhausted,
or disappointed,
            or diametrically minded -
  but?
    a woman, as an ideal, will never materialise
into the practical needs of opposing sexes -
but at least, can allow a man to see past the practicality
of woman, and peer into the impracticality
of sophia (σoφια)... that much said: moving beyond
          the heraclitean and therefore christian
notion of the logos (λoγoς)...
wait a minute: shouldn't that be considered an
"impracticality" - after all, of all things considered,
man is not a creature mindful of a vacuum,
   for man cannot craft a vacuum, even with death
as his shadow...
     man is brimful in all things,
               only a god could craft a vacuum -
and reside in it, taunted by man's arguments
to reveal himself, from within the confines of his sloth;
ah, however it be not:
that impractical things, desire the most thought;
so ask an old man to explain a mobile phone...
dumbfounded, the "fool" will reply:
   i don't know... and then see the subtle awe,
that borders on "stupidity".