.numbers, numbers, numbers, always with the ******* numbers, how many likes, how many flags, how many followers, etc. etc. - elsewhere, among the Mozart(s)... how many symphonies? how many operas? befriending, "unfriending"... numbers numbers, numbers, number that mean jack-took-a-****-into-his-well-polished-maarching-boots... for a parade of some sort, in synch.; numbers, numbers, numbers... the wrong opinion here, the wrong opinion there, yeah, "wrong" opinion... since time immemorial, beginning with Socrates, the art of dialectics has imploded, disappeared from the park bench... and entered the realm of sophistry, on a stage, with a prepaying audience of spectators...  point being?

who would even assume i'd be into the numbers
game, the ******* ****** of the number
of followers?
     i'm after the big apple,
   give me 5 or so years...
   and i'll end up with 10,000 "poems"
on this website...
          **** the follower number that
rarely blink at my on the screen -
   that sort of perception is static -
   there's no dynamism behind bragging
a number...
  pick a card... pick a number,
   any number...
              and i'll do the magic trick with
a blank space of pixel paper...
   i'll actually write something...
    since, evidently,
            what i do in the confines of
my creative membrane (creative -
i.e. starting from a scratch of two flint
stones, or sometimes absolutely nothing)...
is outside the juxtaposition of
what becomes a person,
     in actual interaction with a given:
a reciprocating entity of conversation -
all of this in excess commentary -
    like in the old days -
book clubs...
               talking...
    no comments -
    which is why i sometimes tune into
the euronews montage
of no comment...
                   no commentary, none,
zilch... nada...
                i am the sort of person that
simply can't stomach commentary -
   i own, how ever many books i own...
and i applied graffiti to one...
ezra pound's cantos -
                       ****... i went into a pub
with it, wanting to finish it on the way
back on the bus...
        started to these two girls,
asked one of them to write in it...
    dr john marchent,
   LSBV
             (london south bank university)
the science of chocolate
rhiannala fowler -

    drunk girls handwriting -
i think her name was rhiannala -
   a rare name...

another ****** bites the dust -
    and since this doesn't soften my resolve
to plow along...
   i made a new friend, elsewhere...

i was wrong about Sweden producing
the best cider in the world...
totally wrong...
               but... where correction
is due, it's most certainly worth
the original mistake...

kopparberg & rekorderlig & älska...

all great ciders in terms of flavors,
but i've learned something,
having only met
    henry westons today...
   now... if you've ever drank
carlsberg export -
   which stands at a hefty 9%?
basically the standard carlsberg
with about 100ml of ***** poured
into it...
   if not more... cringe inducing,
worse than ******* on a lemon -
expression on the face after taking
a sip...
   extra strong beer? esp. bordering
****-juice wine?
      not a good idea...

kopparberg & rekorderlig & älska?
hover around the 5% mark...
but... because of this...
     the ciders are too sweet...
you can't take these ciders for a walk,
you start getting cocoon mouth,
the phlegm builds up,
   and you start choking while
smoking a cigarette...

but... the genius of henry westons
Herefordshire Vintage Cider?
genesis 1880, began with bittersweet apples,
Much Marcle farm,
extended to apple harvests from
Gloucestershire & Worcestershire,
oak aged...

all of that, but it's not it...
the genius behind henry westons cider?
well...
    unlike carlsberg export (9%)...
Henry's cider stands at ALC 8.2% VOL...
that's ******* genius...
it's like wine, but for boys...

no, it's not the cheap alcoholic cider
sold in 2 liter plastic bottles...
glass bottle... 2 quid for 500ml...
  
   but my god!
    i think i've found a new friend!
the balance of excess alcohol content,
balances the sweetness of your standard
Irish or Swedish cider...
    the sweetness disappears,
   and you get a balance...
  the the amount of alcohol is not
as off-putting as it is, with extra strong
beer...

    because you seriously can't find
a better cider...
         the excess alcohol breaks through
the sweetness that otherwise suffocates
with extracting an excess of phlegm...
   and carlsberg export is not the way
to go...

    one downside though...
     spurs on a ******* appetite unlike any
other beverage i've ever drank...

                     but as they said and will always
say:
   you loose some, you win some,
   but then there's this beautiful view of
the ocean of drinking, in between.