men attired in canadian chequers:
like jumberjacks...

          and what becomes
the heaving breathing of that,
which constitutes a horizon:

upon that wood's horizon...
        i entombed meine herz...
as i told it...
in those wooden scuttle
for morph & skim-reading
of books, i.e.:
speak to the few,
and fewer still for any chance
of the morose moor
of more..
  
          boot-lick without
an SS-mann's schuhcreme...
i too see
                 the moon
in the basin reflection of a lake:
der mond...
                    die alles...
                 und meine gesicht zü!

seems: i have no apparent
reason to stage a fright
for the dodo project
in a language: "becoming"
exinct...

                what becomes
mecca was already persepolis...
in that:
bowing in tow,
the deity of the sun...
has... become whiff
of corrupt pleasure...
   sonnegottheit...
   lovely **** lovers,
as dictated by
a w. Burroughs...
strapped to an enclave of
Tangier...
      as much homosexuality
under Islam as...
            what is worth
the "natural" world,
with a buffer of ideology
counter technology
for the onto-;
gentlemen?
     on your knees:
please bow...
            
that...
   how to tell the german
philosophers apart...
i.e.
   dasein &
                    daßein?

              ᛋ:ᛋ....

          ­   hahnohr zü krächzen!

diese deutsche:
mein mütter...

                  and i could have been
such an idle:
sycophant...
    such a toy-boy-shoe-shine
worth of a punk: agenda...

come the rigid whip...

these days: it is no longer
worth its due to
write poetry to escape
the world...

one needs...
to read some philosophy,
to escape the world,
for sure,
but one also requires
an ability to fathom
a construct of a fortress
of a vocab.,
that only:
the systematic application
of language
for the understudy
of philosophy:
breaks, fathoms,
beckons with.

oh, i actually know very little...
but what i do know is...
the basis of all wordly
fade-out vogues...
containing a man...
  
whatever "begins" with
the Cartesian res cogitans
(thinking thing)
"ends" with the Kantian
res per se (think in itself)...
one even begins to hope:
that's a tautological
statement...

              but now...
cogitans ≠ per se,
i.e. thinking does not equate
itself to either being
or the in-itself...
since thinking can
become corrupt...
           since thinking is
corrupt...

           ergo?

             well a revisionist take
on Descartes via Kant is
worthy:

     supposing cogitans = esse per se...
   res ≠ res,
via                 res cogitans ≠ res per se...
when, once upon a time
res cogitans = res per se...
yes, once upon a time
a thinking thing would equate
to a thing in itself...

                    not diesetage...

we are liberated by the "knowledge"
that man's thought is: "know"
when his ontology is
the metaphor extract from
the natural world,
and not from the ontological
world, barricaded by
technology and...
the craft of a 3D tongue
of nuance...

              there's no verb attachment
as simply put as: cogito ergo sum...

    it requires
the "thing", i.e. res...

                         a res cogitans
non est res per se...
          
                 but thinking can be
deemed a "per se"...
                  to mind:
         there is no ergo-cascade to
fathom....
  since the Kantian reinvigoration
of the Cartesian heave is
equally balanced on
the ergo:
     qua cogito per se qua
                sum per se (est, est)....

ergo?
  res ≠ ego / id...

             but the verb: cogito
is an eventuality of: burrowing...
i.e. clarifying:
both the fathomable depth
of thought, and the unfathomable
shallowness of being...

we "awaited" the discovery
of the D.N.A. helix...
but never "expected"
  james watson to be: shunned...
thank god i didn't
take part in one of those
D.N.A. investments of
collecting data...

well sure... why would you read
"modern" philosophy...
i.e. something by a German
from the 17th or 18th century
apart from Nietzsche...

   you'd become stiff!
quadratic!

                mind you...
everything spoken in the English
tongue from
the 20th century onwards,
apart from:

love, love me do...
you know i love you
i'll always be true
so please, love me do...

rhyme:
always the highest source
of wisdom (purpose
for life, and subsequent
invigoration for it
being pursued) in
the English tongue...
so... who am i to judge?

i'm just a stiff collar
remnant of what would have
become a "what-if"
schutzstaffelbüro -
ja... die S.S.B.

i know... fetischgrund;
as implanted into me
by my history teacher,
in England...
while studying
WWII...
she said:
pointing at me...
out of all of you...
he would be the only
one left alive...

hell...
   i'm still trying to find
a grimace to live with
to counter her.

p.s. but i thought
the englischspreschenpublikum
   gesucht für, die "knotted-si-si"?
nein?
             ooh... wäß schønde!