don't worry, you're not a communist party member,
but hell, what a world of difference it turned
out to be for my grandfather, retired prior to hitting 60,
or thereabouts - seems it would have been quiet
o.k. to have been born in 1939, and having the memory
of herr bittebonbon, an ss man giving me sweets,
so sweet that my hands would stick together;
just saying...

now i don't really understand which communist
"party" you adhere to, twitter, facebook,
tumblr, whatever,
   we are the generation of *users - the "pioneers" -
we were the ones stuck to the screen writing
in chat rooms when m.s.n. was still breathing,
just prior to microsoft having to invoke hunts
for pedophiles -
                  just before they closed -
and just before acronyms were pop -
    and less complicated -
      just before english started to mutate,
deform, started to look uglier by the day,
like some drunken irish boxer getting too many
knuckle kisses -
            i've forgotten how to feel...
stupendous? arty farty? what's the word...
   pomp-riddled, popish?
                ****, the world escapes me -
but for people who don't know what chat rooms
were... right at the turn of the century...
   i feel for you...
          then comes the other thought -
always, always, better an unpredictable tornado
of whirling thrills, than that mundane
straight train-track load of thought:
sober, unchanging, and if not in some relativistic
muddle, then clearly in the north-north parallel
magnetic repelling mind-set...
              yawn.
      i didn't say: don't use it -
          as i am always reminded:
alcohol was created by people, for people -
yep, and i feel like a god downing a litre of whiskey
per night...
        mind you, that's better than glorifying
the other way... if a hermit does harm to himself:
he is only doing harm to himself,
   so... you can shove that a.a. ******* 12 steps
up yir **** and trot along...
             i have but one step,
visit your grandparents in your native land
and ensure you: keep up appearances -
  i was always the grand liar when sober,
then go back to england and stare at the trenches,
and the existential blackmail of:
more babies! more babies! more white babies!
besides the point, a woman can write the most
blissful romantic poem, and it has the same fate
as a newspaper, same day it was printed,
it falls into a gutter, or becomes desperado
toilet paper; i never knew why ****-eroticism
was so perfect in this medium:
  honestly? gay guys never seem to shut up
or have a narrow set of interests...
   oops...
        nonetheless it still feels like social media
is communism lite,
                  the corporate media is ballistic -
to no real surprise... don't you just love the term
dittohead? i have to look up the german
(sorry, i have a fetish for the language) -
ah!      ebensokopf, ebensokopfs...
         and then news from the construction site...
those ******* english hogs...
   lazy-*** "professionals" -
                 do nothing all day, expecting that:
oh, just a few slavs, they can do the work for us...
if i were you, i'd get the bangladeshi or
the irish on board... then again, you might like
to consider an arab or a sub-saharan workforce -
  ******* hogs, and bulldogs,
really gets under my collar,
  when people dissolve a respect for honest
and high tier labour... is it me, or has capitalism
completely lost the notion of respecting labour?
at least communism respected labour, work,
    whether it be a plumbing issue,
an electric issue...
           and not some poncy "vintage" antique
dealer's ******* of a mahogany table...
            what is the western world build on these
days these? their native workforce
     who have two left hands -
yep, pointing outwards - unfathomable that
western people fell for the perils of
       software "technicians" on social media -
     they are geared on the software of reality,
which looks kind'ah ******, from what i've seen -
while eastern europe has fun with the hardware
side of things;
   oh, by the way, if you're attempting to buy
a flat in london? don't bother,
  the english have terrible skills on industrial scale
projects...
   i've seen the pictures...
     perhaps elsewhere in england,
   but in london, you'll be lucky to spot a dozen
of english trades people -
managers, sure, obviously...
   but the rest?
           tumbleweed moment;
  at least we know what the irish are famous for
other than river-dancing... laying concrete...
and the scots? roofing; and the poles? ah you know,
roofing & a bunch of other trades -
zdrowie na budowie, zdrowie na budowie,
zdrowie.... na     bu.... do... wie;
and another point, why are people of my
generation afraid of having parents?
    the cohabitants?
             let's turn that one around:
you shall not be embarrassed to have parents...
under whatever circumstance you find
yourself in...
    because it got be thinking:
   we reached that stage of single mothers
         and their ***** donor / i.v.f. *******?
i'm waiting for those ****-offs to hit 20 years!