a hour's worth of the refined
art of threaded silk,
could be mustered,
to constitute more of the, authenticity
of a romanian *******,
than, it might ever justfiy
the artless confiscate of a woman
with an Albian
monstrosity of, what, is,
a socio-historical convenience,
akin to a ****** skin:
why only the transgressor only
wish to *******, and your,
prudish presence....
as a market worth
some egregious recant:
without a basis of minding
reminders...
            one could claim that
a fathomability of a male
concept of the travesty of
marketing the fathomably
   sterile, is...
                 argue from the
confiscate of:
           but men do not become
impregnated...
              therefore shallow
oath-keepers...
         therefore: the subsequent
        otherness-exageratted: S S es esses...
                     and a pity as such...

the body of a man,
                the mind of a child...

                   it surely requires
no counter-contract
concept of empathy...
just a worm and a tilt of
a boot,
                 psychiatrists are
afraid of empathetic actors
anyway...

                   empathy is the one
counter to the pharmacologist
explaration of what makes
psychiatry a humanism:
  namely dialogue...

          remove that?
        
              something akin to
a cross between
a person, and a void...

       something, worth the scapegoat
and vulture vulture with
a backdrop of: how one branch of
medicine is, and always will be:
undermined to agitate
a "proper" circumstance of the total
sum of events...

                beer interlude in
between drinking pict ****?!
           more like an irish laugh...
sane, sober people were only asked
to buy buy, spend spend spend....
who can cure this format of
an unconscious addiction?!

and as ****** as i might be,
a kite without a string attached to assume
it being: boy to earth to,
grounded...
to no "real": with or without...
                    can't help but to love
the pop(e) music interludes...
    
           a bit like tuning into
northern hyenas 'aving a laugh
in essex topology...
that is later considered: english;
      the st. petersburg fat lady will
sort and mind out the details for
you, and me, and anyone within
the unfaithful vicinity...
  of: never attempting to take to
Detroit hard rap...

        well... ain't that a ******* wonder!
could have guessed your name,
if i didn't try to, really
try to remember my own.