ich manchmal traum von
                          ein nachdenkenberg

because how many direct articles
do you actually need,
to construct german,
   and the index, of pointing,
as if through fog?

das... as in: that's thinking...
   in the form of abbreviating
a lighbulb moment of:
                                  gedanke...

a castle where only shadows
move, while all mirror-forms
remain: schtill (
   i had to apply the yiddish
to differentiate it from plain
ol' english)...

                      on the altar of
the grammar of the peoples...
sat a fat *****,
        a fat ***** sat,
   and peeling his rotting skin,
ate, and ate, and praised
the myths of Hannibal,
   like the usual fugitive of
sabbath.

      since how far is
           θought from φilosoφy?
some would say not far...
         less a problem solving:
"thinking outside the box",
  and more:
            claustrophobia,
of being stuck inside a box,
      imagining a terrace hanging
over Venice...
    
     hence the "supposed"
                                       audacity?

some people never will
enjoy thinking...
                            strange,
       that i was bound to finding it
a delicate pleasure...

i sometimes dream of a castle
     of thought...

      impregnable by anyone but me...
yet here comes the mob
of Alexandria at the turn of the millenium...
and i am "supposedly"
                        never myself?

at times, but a splinter,
       of a much larger trench of
timber.