i mean:

                   you rarely wake up
slapping yourself on your feet

having a(n) "eureka"
                moment
                       exclaiming:
                     (prawn) carbonara!

with the sort of thrilled
agitation of a postman
shoving the only meaningful
transit in his possession
through a mailbox:

     namely an amazon.com
       delivery...
because, even now,
  a postcard is an obsolete
example of a nostalgic despair...

rarer still, coupled
with a mild auditory hallucination
"burdening" the mind
with a one word
              impetus, ***** count,
vector and no precise coordinate
summary of...

                         sultan...

must be a fall-out effect of
writing with no novel in mind...
       no it:
                and the added royalties
of a ****** second coming -
   clearly a clown with
    immaculate make-up
                  is the scary (scarry?)
clown...

                why is it that when
i want to listen to L.A. punk,
   i'm only allowed to push
          mid-west bruce springsteen
americana hyper-anthem
                                on youtube?

in england we call russian politics:
the shadow cabinet...
    it's not sneaky...
            it's not subversive...
       just an uncertainty concerning
the future...

        america is as blatant as
                      a pancake without yeast!