why even bother metaphysical questions,
notably in the english tongue - why?
why bother asking metaphysical
questions, when what's staring back
at us is the ****** obvious -
i.e. the orthography?
                 for one, english has no
notion of orthography -
                second - english has no
notion of orthography -
     it's a ***** of a tongue,
anyone with a drop of oil to call a mind
will tell you: tongue that's
nothing more, than a village bicycle...
english has no concept of
orthography -
                    and even if it did,
it would still be the feral grounding
for acronym bombast...
         pity...
               only a fox speaks
for a sleeping lion -
                 then again:
     i am quicker to point out that:
i do not write to obstruct -
or cling to precision-making
claustrophobia...
                     in writing there's
the ideal, idle love & self,
  but there's also the dream of falling,
and the claustrophobia of
               regiment status -
   abhorred by all, conveniently sold,
for if books and bricks
were compared...
         sorry... people would find it
hard to grasp the fact that:
            no library let alone a home
would stand...
as pry into my own habits
i settle on the motto: libra -
   never write more than you've read -
or at least to suggest:
chicken-scratching-scribbler -
   read more than you write...
   but still...
   english can do away with
metaphysics,
     in that its ****-naked fresh...
it's a blank canvas,
   like a toy,
      you can attach and detach
diacritical markings as you please,
that second tier of punctuation -
intra-verbum rather than inter-verbum...
       yet english as a language
will abstain,
  it will not invoke orthography
like other european tongues
did secure a romanic post scriptum
revision...
          all the nuances of
this, supposedly, golden tongue,
epoch conjurer and demoniac in
        sorry,
      well, one treat language as either
a scholastic attention seeking *****
of a pupil - rubric by rubric
in defence of conservative nod -
or: play-dough,
       mandible and, all the more
worth desecrating...
     or in my view: "improving"...
       hence the blank canvas -
hence the pointless "adventure"
         concerning metaphysical question...
i find more gold nuggets among
the crumbs of this tongue
from the mere omission of
                  orthography...
          i, ronin,
                        simply ask:
what is the point of invoking
orthography in the letters I and J...
    when in fact: there's no difference?
     l, I, 1...
                     el, aye, eins -
                this exhausted arm of
benzene orientation,
     no wonder the french and
pataphysics -
but i'm not french hence less absurd,
20 odd years and not a single
english woman worth of ****...
      glory be, the *******'s vocation...
and how the english find
eroticism from white lies...
lying for the english is an aphrodisiac...
  cheap lies,
  unnecessary lies...
lying for the english is an
aphrodisiac...
                     but i point out nonetheless;
metaphysical questions
are pointless when using this
tongue -
for the ****** obvious resounds:
having neglected orthography -
one can endlessly rummage
in a heap of nuance;
  i'm god,
           looking at the naked adam,
for at least i am attired,
  whether in umlaut, caron,
   breve, grave, macron,
                        acute...
   i pity the english tongue -
        such a Mongolian post scriptum
ravaged by the hordes of
laziness, acronym, emoji and slang...
    i rarely speak english,
i pillage it...
                      and for that:
i am left mostly unsatisfied -
  not that i wish to speak it more -
but there's that necessity of
the citizen to address the cashier with
a hello, and bid him, goodnight...
i will attest to this fact:
  it was and is easier to
introduce canadian grey squirrels
      and replace the native reds,
than it will be to introduce diacritical
marks and establish an antithesis
of metaphysics (that's orthography)
in the english tongue...
     when will this tongue
finally relinquish its ambitions
               to replicate rome?
  how can this
tongue continue its current trajectory,
when its neither by day,
nor by night competent -
     an insomniac global prune.
   - in a land where more is said of
***, than is actually sentenced to
gymnastics of... said act...
    sometimes i was more
brittle, riddled with alimony of some
sort...
          rather than this
nonchalance & impromptu fever...
in vino veritas:
            in lingua verum: appotus.