"onkle adolf... einige sagen es war anrede: ave maria", besagt fräulein elisabeth.*

we have all lived through a countenance
of inspecting the: actor -
even if we were less obliged,
we deemed it, necessary,
to suggest an opaqueness -
thus let us celebrate:
          opaque rhetoric!
               countered with french
existentialism...
                        we are to deliver what is of
most interest...
       funny to find large
families at providing virtue,
when they in fact also provide
world wars, akin to the first....
                        families, given
******, see, hardly the hard end consequence...
with family being the last:
defended artefact...
        question is:
how sooner the ******
          may collapse?
            dearest claim to crown & king?
i fiddle my fingers pretending they
are apt for a violin, dearest,
           the unearthed tongue
from the graveyard ridden,
if not welcomed by crows and hyenas,...
              the crackling cackle
and the labouring laugh makes due
surfacing against the monarchic
  the orb, the hammer,
  the sceptre, the sickle,
  and donned, the crown,
what is a will of the people...
how humbled the queen must be:
shedding lost airs and the evermore
senses of jane austen sensibilities...
poor thing...
   i'd be the most richest of men,
merely experienced this: "travesty"...
   a famed queen cushioned,
lying, on a bed of rocks...
                    how will i ever
dare to, manage?!
                             at least the russians learnt
what a peasant was...
             the english?
i find that the english didn't learn
the same lesson..
  i feel they obliterated it with the jewish
conception of Kazakh...
            the enbglish only seemed
to learn what a peasant was among
the peasants...
but the english queen learned? hardly.
  the monarchy has just emerged
as solipsistic...
        that's quasi-autistic may i add...
the reason her majesty's people didn't
learn what a peasant was is because:
the english peasant always required
an under-peasant...
                yet you must remember:
the norther english are still
                     usurpers...
                you will not find couriers of
nationhood among the northen counts of slap...
the first wold war was not a world war,
it was merely a family feud...
one family... just one,
that cost so many others a cherished
endeavour into being solidified
with old age... ******?! ****** is the evil?!
vile, ****** concubines of ******!
                cousins versus cousins!
you actually have the goud
to press your measures?!
                 the orb and the hammer,
the sceptre and the sickle,
the crown and: the will of the people...
              to your bidding no bidding be
worth un-bidding or made said as:
an bidding undone?
            with that sort of assumption...
as queen, and country,
you have no honour to stand before
a god, save yourself the grace,
and simply stand before: the common man;
take no to a confession,
  but abide by a compliment of:
having made confession in a confinement
of a sheltered privacy,
  whereupon the public might be
congratulating in what you know to be
the most aghast lesion of truth,
which is obviously a mere,
simpleton of the bereft royal auction of:
said lie, kept beyond hidden -
   by mere exfoliation as recompense:
          riddled.