a "compensation"
zeitgesit,
                                  to blunt...
   the trans-temporal
   affairs...
                          of what's otherwise
known as the
space, which constitutes
                                   the hyperbolic
                               "dasein"
of a...          "space"...
that sexuality is
even a "problem"?
         get on with it...
ship me off to Teheran...
and put a snooker-cue
                              via my neck and
with an entry point
in my lower abdomen...
yes...
   i used to listen to roma
                                      gypsies
    talk bulgarian
    when pretending a façade
of romanian...
                              you actually can
tell apart roma women,
whether or not they're
                  bulgarian or romanian...
    bite the rock:
               sniff the dirt out...
philosophers have not
been granted entry
into the domain of:
                                            dialectic...
     ever since, and ever so:
with the athenian d...
   wait a minute...
                             is Athens a symbol
of Apollonian metaphors,
and Rome the Dionysyian
equivalent?
         i've been to Athens...
never been to Rome...
managed to befriend a few
                Carthegians to take me to
a strip-tease club...
              what happened after?
                                              my "problem".
      it's not exactly a scenario
where you're: drunk on
                                        humour...
          my "poetry" can be
regarded as a Hadean yawn...
              or what's to be left of
cerberus & charon...
                 the part of petting
a domestication having held intact
a nativity of the wild in man...
and a trust engaged in
travelling on a bus...
              with a blind busdriver...
      just that titillating touch of
        came thing, came metaphor...
the "ingenuity" of a knife
outside the culinary realm of its required
applicability?
  hand no more a shake...
       with what governs the elsewhere
of its due.
- and i know that i could never be
comforted by spare-time poetics
that degraded the art...
it's certainly no my "work"...
  but more importantly:
       certainly not a leisure activity, either!
- wasn't art...
    the only way to express,
punctuation, in expanding,
a perpetuation of extending time,
within the macabre confines of
           a prison?
art on the sly...
                which evaporates into:
a... "human" being...
             able to entertain much
more than the per se of the per se
of cognition?