you know, when you've just drank about *****...
you don a pair of sunglasses,
and you're listening
to marilyn manson's
long hard road out of hell:
mediating all the internet drama...
and then...
           your arms fold... at where forearm
meats the bicep / tricep...
on the elbow cusp...
        and the lower part of your
arms, rises stiff, dubious...
     and the whole partial-limb tightens
a grip on the existence of the shadow...
only with prolonged excesses of
ingesting ***** does this curiosity
arise...
the mantis pose...
              yum...
                   yummy yummy yum yum...
right on the cusp...
the hands turn into saber-tooth
hinge type of jaw-lines...
      shadows that growl, glow and
lament simultaneously...
           what?!
a mantis pose...
  you drink at much ***** as i have,
and for as long...
you too would find this automated
pose a Francis Bacon curiosity...
   groupies? no...
       i'm here for: shadow...
      always with the ******* *****,
the sunglasses, and the right volume
of the right music...
look... by comparison to the horrors
conjured in the 20th century paperback...
i'm a banality of expectation,
that... frankly... was never
suited for either fame,
or being the expected...
             i'm simply hier-           -sein...
          whatever "there" was,
is the "here" of, what here or there,
but became:               now...
   jetztsein...
               oh look... how spacing and timing
overtook the ontological certainty
to counter the *** space-time "continuum"...
well... if the Yids failed at anything
it was their overblown IQ...
sure as **** perfected their nationalism...
the Yids live in a perfecting
harmonization of Jude, as space...
and the time of Israel...

       if only Russia didn't interrupt
the integration of Ukraine...
and whatever happened to Turkey...
the lat segment of the dream of
Nebuchadnezzar II...

religiosity and all the tales,
is my second drinking part of intoxication...
i drink the wine of the ages,
or rather... i spice it up...
no ***** in the bible...
   but i feast on these written
catacombs...

       did i tell you about the mantis
pose?
         crux on the folded arms...
stiff upper bicep / tricep...
and a slightly lose lower arm...
with hands stretching into forceps
of shadow puppetry akin
to those expected from icebergs?!

*****, the night and sunglasses...
what  ****** combination;
as a wise woman once noted:
easier to be feared,
than to be loved.