there are two types of whiskey,
there's the chockey
  famous grouse,
which i once "tamed"
     as a gouse,
and then there's the smoked
solomon, sorry,
salmon,
                equivalent to bell's...

as there is also an attempt at
humour...

because what did i do while
in kenya?
        ****, slept in the open on
a beach resort throughout
the night,
kept myself chasing shadows,
pretended to be a tourist
with the italians,
  ping-ponged with the germans...

         wrote a
mediocre story addressed to
my grandfather
         about an elephant dunking
its trunk into a bottle of *****...
     and?
          just lounged on a balcony
with a macaque monkey or two,
feeding with satchets of sugar,
telling the grounds keeper
when a pirate baboon became
audacious... shouting:
hey! sling shot that *******
   leech, attached to a whale,
there, here, whereever!
    
                        get off my baboon!

which sounds as ridiculous
as wearing a top-hat...

                   aren't kenyan girls pretty
though?
     i can compare them
to, something the falling of snow
in england, notably essex...
   that paraphrase of glee...
                  ****, just thinking about
it makes me want to rewatch
braveyard...    woah'd! 'n'
blue... ******* picts...
          
               but you know how a kenyan
girl's skin glees, when not oiled
and how the snow in england
also shows?

        ****, jump into the indian
ocean
         and wreck your hand on a coral
protrusion...
        imbediment,
           hell, several nouns later,
digested by a thesaurus...
    
me, climbing into a zoo cage with
a gorilla makes more sense
at this point,
  with me replying:
     let's throw **** at the cage bars
together...
  because? frankly?
       i'm way past practising judo
with you.

         hey... way better:
let's play pope!

           ****** couldn't tell whether i
was blinking, playing darts,
or whether i was actually blind...

     but hey... 'ere come the shades...

           yet the greasy, brown,
buttocks of mombasa,
   dust and prayer, scuttling hundreds
on their bare feet making
   the sand a worthwhile grind
     tool... as if: and it was walked on,
prior to you, prior to you, prior
to you, and prior to you...

macaque monkeys on a balcony
fed sachets of sugar
   with a white boy lounging
bewildered by:
                there's no impetus for me
to craft a cage...
            hell, that was me...
          
and there was also a muhammad
who wanted to invite me
to his crocodile farm....
              boots, boots is all i heard...
oh far gone the snapper,
just a shoe industry...
          first time i witnessed
a woman in a pool swimming in
a burqini...
                   a bit like teaching
a child in his pyjamas being
taught to stay afloat...

                         napkin, two colour
suite... bam!
         a table clotch pulled from
beneath all the table attire,
            and no church bell ringing.
              
i'd love to climb into a zoo cage
with a gorilla these days... why?
dunno...
           just feels appropriate to
          feel like meat these days...
                  after doing a ******* in
and then "having" to meet her son...
or like pulling a black girl,
going back to her home,
with her thugging her children
of her bed,
       her imitation of a ******
by clasping her legs together
ensuring i'd shoot, but not aim...
   and then the poor afro ******
waking me in the night,
and me, having to grab him,
  with touching bodies
      laying him onto myself?

      listen,
  i was sleeping, and he was
just ******* on an imitation
of a ******... where was i going to
put him?!
           sure, afro, frizzly hair,
unfortunate how
    ***** translate on both
        face, head, and ***** region...
             now i know why
growing ****** hair has become
so intimidating to women...

  kenyan women are beautiful though,
like peering at snow
in england in the night...
              a sight of illumination,
seemingly oiled, but not really...
   all you need right now...
  is an oyster, and a tongue.