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  there's always
a convergence of two numbers
in sudoku...

that's how this Japanese
pazuru
    "bokkusu" works...

i drink, i'm solving these
puzzles drunk,
  i have a limit for what
is "respectable":

   i'm  not competing...
i prefer discovering the theory...
and the theory says...

i am no genius,
i'm just patient...
    leave the fiendish level puzzles
for the child genius
and subsequently act out
their intellect on school bullies...

well... good luck...
   i'm not competing,
i'm relaxing -
    like my dementia riddled maternal
grandfather...

my maternal grandfather was a drunk,
his father was a drunk...
emigrated to the U.S.A.
spoke 7 languages,
was in the M.P. corp -
         was fed lies about my
great-grandfather's brother,
about his son,
to rob him (my grandfather)
of his inheritance...
my paternal grandfather was
a drunk...
   i'm a drunk...
my father isn't...
      shame it isn't me...

  disappeared with a sent postcard
from Niagara Falls...
   like a **** in the wind...

England?
  was supposed to be a stop-over...
it was supposed to
be Poland, England,
Argentina,
  U.S.A....

so i have family in the U.S.
(relations, distant cousins and ****),
would i like to visit?
   to be honest...
  i hate my family back in Poland...
when a cousin attempts to drown
you...
you start thinking about
enjoying the work ethic
of dentistry,
without the anaesthetic...
pulling a tooth out
while dislodging
an arm from the socket
since your tugging a
stubborn donkey...

while listen to some Led Zeppelin..
ha ha!
        
           i'll admit, i'm smiling...
because i know what drove my mother
to persuade my father to
leave the homeland...
prior to correspondance...
   she was attempting
to rekindle a writing paragraph
with her great-grandfather...
   who ****** off to the U.S....

    name?
      Joseph Żak...
              then again, it was the war...
the iron curtain...
now, "suddenly" the Silicon curtain...
   but the pazuru bokkusu?
two numbers always converge
simultaneously...
  
  with the puzzle number
   10,133 from the times?
  
[9] - [1] - [8] - [3] - [5] - [7] - [2, 4] - [6]

2 and 4 converge,
and it is always the case that two
numbers fill the grid,
simultaneously...
            
i like theory...
  and since i can't solve a crossword
puzzle to save my life...
   i guess i require an outlet
to theorize what i can solve...

**** reading the newspaper
articles...
what these "journalistic"
outlets could do,
is soften the paper quality...
so i could save some money
when needing to wipe my ***!

but thank god the autumnal
late summer chill grips the air
surrounding September,
    i need to feel bones on the tips
of my fingers,
and lose the covering of
flesh...
    i need finger numbing
sensation to overcome me...
          
        there is something quiet magical
about
entrusting yourself to the cold...
                a breath in the cold
and you swarm around
the extraction of a soul,

a death defying huddling of
the breath...
             a ghost,
   in the immediate setting of
a pseudo-foggery;
  
don't get me started on witnessing
snow fall under a street-lamp,
next to a graveyard,
at night...

             can't think of any other
aphrodisiac...
well... there is one...
picking strawberries with
a peasant girl...
   thinking of pheasants and
*****, yet discrete
crows... who never managed
to do the outright
voyeurism tactic of
pigeons bound to the daylight
hours...

         beauty is only beauty,
when it's mandible,
and not shackled into a western
style Niqab...
          porcelain girls...
these beauties of the north...
  jaws and wrists like
bone limbos...
  stiffened by egos bloated
up like parachutes,
extending off giraffe necks...

             **** me...
i'm the odd one out...
i've taken to 17th or 18th century
apertiffs
        of a woman's closure
in terms of body...
   plump legs, bosoms and torsos...
hence my subsequent rejection
of modern ****...
i prefer classic paintings...

body shaming or rather no
shaming to begin with,
if there's no female to encrust
a genesis with / of...

                   come winter,
come,
come winter,
                  come my sunlit heart!  
and that Russian joke about
couples,
  and playing chess during
the "hibernating" months
as the solid and only escapade...

                   summer...
what a ******* dull enterprise of
what best breeds in said summer months...
bacteria and viruses...

         falling snow under
a street light next to a graveyard?
and then walking through the graveyard,
trying to spot
a few graveyard hyenas
(men who sleep in graveyards
after alcohol binges?) -
              
cruel mother, winter,
                       mother of all.