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Jul 2018
/ the death of death...

                  is that like a legal case
done via a priest:
                          you're married!

the **** am i supposed to do
with that sort of statement?

clap-hippi, sorry,
  clap-happy like a seal,
    doing its best in a florida resort?!

****... clown without make-up...
yet another, slow...            
                       f'aaaaaaaaack,

must be an irish "thing" in me,
living in england:
  and i've never actually socialised
with an englishman...

      mostly irish pseudo-gingers...
and the gingers...
      although like what white
will be: a minority...

                said my prayers,
pat on the buttocks encourging
me to become the choir boy...
  no no,
**** me, that's a terrible joke...
i'd never think about
singing in a church choir...

but guess what?!
   what?
          ever find it odd that a cat might
fall asleep with the sound
of a letter-keyboard
ushering in sounds?

  keys:                    alphabetí-co!

it's not some Bach monstrosum
for a ******* piano:
           digits up to...
****... 26...
   q, 1, w, 2, e, 3, r, 4, t, 5, y, 6,
u, 7, (**** it, not punctuation
marks with this chunk
of a tartar ready beef stake):
u7,
        i8, o9, p10,
      a11, s12, d13, f14, g15,
                  h16, j17, k18, L19,
                 z20, x21, c22, v23,
             b24,         n25,     m... twenty... six!
i look down,
      i look up...
          i look down again:
i look up like an animation
   of a down syndrome analogue unable
to crack a middle-class respectable joke...

and then i'm supposed
to orientate myself in a copernican:
trebuchet load of rock
      as projectile
                                  way?    

sooner the pigs flying
than i do, with what the islamic devil
answered:
               prior to?
        or prior with?
       i bow: i'm beneath them...
they bow... they're beneath me...
handshake?
     we'd settle on gambling...
how about a hierarchy of
mutual respect?
     and less lunatic...
*** in the air forehead
kissing the ground style of prayer?
and less christian blockjob scenes
of bending knees?!

              no?
well... we can settle on continuing this
lunacy... no problem...
  but what happens to islam,
in symbolic terms...
   when on their flags there is
a scythe moon...
  and lonely star...

         but when the moon is full?
what then?
   what of the lunar empire
                   of the nomads then?
well no pigs would only make
sense in the desert...
   but...
   the fungus theory?!
   no anti-fungus coupled
with anti-pork in the holy bybble-blah?

so fungus is o.k., but pork, ain't?

then counter pop-cult
              -ulture
the evolution from ingesting fungus,
perspective...
              ****... ate pork: became a newton!
Mateuš Conrad
Written by
Mateuš Conrad  36/M/Essex (England)
(36/M/Essex (England))   
90
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