you an i.v.f. kid? you better be,
i abhor the whole economic affair -
as if living with your parents,
parents, more like patrons -
is a "need" to be guilt ridden -
i'll ask again: you i.v.f.?
no? lol.
        i'm the kind of drunk that
drinks and is ready to trim the lawn
and cook,
   and have a tear jerker when it comes
to
the ghostly foster the people sit next
to me...
     yep, that type of drunk...
you i.v.f.?!
   i don't know what comes first:
the question, or the exclamation...
       london? *******,
but i'd sooner find myself wishing
to see tokyo than new york...
                      terrorism,
size me up, i'm becoming sterile
given the artefacts...
                          bits & bobs...
  the **** deserves a museum aisle...
body parts and dates,
  and what isn't suppose to levitate -
yeah, i drink,
  but i'm of the 30 year olds who
believes: having a mother is no reason
to feel ashamed,
unlike my english, counterparts....
who demand parenthood be equated
with shame...
  like i said, to reiterate: are you
an i.v.f. child?!
                            **** me,
i can drink, cook dinner, and at the same
time mow a lawn...
       scrub the earth and capture
enough autumnal parachutes
           of gangrene leaves...
          i can't afford a place of my own,
unless i was a copper -
                     then i could,
and none of the people my age
as suddenly stating: i hate my mother,
i hate my father...
                love, well, any other
debilitating drug of choice...
                    i'm still thinking about
the stray dogs of poland,
and the homeless people of england...
strange: treating a dog to be above
a man... battersea bound.
             you know what my rationality
of an irrational fear begins with?
a stray cat...
  a homeless cat...
     a cat that runs away from a woman...
for a cat to run away from its female owner...
that's scary...
                     there's nothing scarier than
a woman who managed to make a cat
run aloof...
                    it's a western thing:
you're supposed to feel ashamed being
conceived with the natural method
of conception...
                  you're supposed to feel
ashamed having parents,
   you're supposed to feel the i.v.f.
patronisation -
                             you'll get lucky
having flatmates for 3 years...
                       and perhaps at a funeral...
      i might be a drunk...
   but as drinking goes:
the majority of pleasure is not derived
from drinking per se, of yet,
rather derived from speaking the truth;
so i'll ask once more:
        you an i.v.f. child, or an orphan?
my father was an "orphan" -
      you put a sly one on me,
  and i swear to god,
      i'll smack one against your jaw
           like any contained volatility might.