****** the neo-feminist
anti-...
   the comerady
for the hetrosexual male...
the thai-surprise
having encountered
a bisexual in the park...
sure... my
white maggoty ****
was nothing
to be envious of...
bue: miles davis'
                trumpet was...
i no longer belong to
the world that attempts
to make sense,
in the "world"
that would ever consecrate
itself upon
a necessity of: furthering
the scope of dialogue...
i, punk oblivion,
Korean neon
insomnia...
                   Asia fetish?
whenever i have a desire
to ****...
i start imagining teeth
on oysters...
like:
i've ****** one with
tattoos on her body,
one will do...
thank you...
any more?
thank you, no.
              
see...
being read "pedantic"
backward in finding a seat
in an opera house?
like it was...
something difficult to do?
you know what...
       how about trying
that pedantic lineage
of
argument in a football stadium?
how's that?

yeah: it's ******* dark...
do i look like
a ******* batman
or something?
no...
so...
           i came here to watch
the ******* bolshoi theatre...
not for some *******
english smurks...

wankers...
******* scittle-half-crafts
of what deserves a
social-media frenzy...
and all of them women...

opera: yes...
and i was told by some
god-forbid russian
prized frenzy to stop leaning...
babe:
you're in the wrong seat...
and she was!
i was leaning into her
"attire"...
sure...
but she was sitting
in the wrong seat...
i thought everyone was
sorted in being primmed
when exposed
to such: "high" culture?

no...?
oh.. well...
no... see...
i like the opera,
i love the ballet...
but being told
that i haven't faced
my *** to coincide with
my face,
to sit in the allocate
allowance
of an put-into-place?

i become...
itchy...
  by some...
middle-man
that cannot stomach
killing someone,
simultanoeus
with
   butchering
a squat of pork
for a hungry cat...
at that point?
i become bothered...
i don't like being
the ******-splain
of sitting
allocation in an opera...

it's, *******, dark...
   next time:
stop bellowing at
the opera singer
like a *******
clapping-seal
needing the ordeal
for the encore of senseless
clapping:
or i'll ******* sling around
skinning you...
savvy?!

homosexuals,
trannies...
whatever...
they can have their go...
but being...
           made scrutiny of...
being...
ridiculed...
in an opera house...
by social-climbers?

it's like.... an itch...
  i'm itching...
to bite, slap, stab the living's
worth of said, "unsaid"
person...

               white-trash drama...

oh i don't fear...
the incarcerated and the obese
are never behind bars...

but that smirk remark
at the opera?
like i'm, somehow... "minor"?
i could **** for that...
mind you:
all the worth for the world's worth
of killing,
is a summary of
the most banal loss
of compnesation,
      being made a comparison of.

i could **** for that opera statement...
i was watching
the ******* bolshoi theatre...
what i was given...
was an antagonist...
something worth
a camel i'd pat on the head
for...  imitating:
poiting forward,
with its "oasis" of phlegm
to scoop, for a worth
of coordinate to scrap
the heaving breath
of, all life, from:
and subsequently regurgitate...

such a belittling scrutiny...
kick a ******* ball
toward an aria while you're at
a scissor-kick mid-air
via a baritone tone
beside the...

   ad capricio (capricious paedo:
****** the testicles,
grab and twist them...
but never cut them off,
or attempt ****)...

   or the piedmont: sanctity...
beatified: ad ****, und -ini...
always, counter culture cited,
the Iberian Muslim counter...
as...
a harem of missing testicles
was...
for no blacksmith...
a escape route worth
of...
                            72 virgins...
but there are,
men...
******...
  who... do what
war implores of them...
to no end...
  for a predicament's
worth of peace...
yes... the Muslims were here,
the Muslims were there...
modern Muslims
in modern Kenya...
             a ******* giraffe
on the stripes
up a zebra's ***...
and i'm all, like:
a ******* clapping
coconut army...
because... Elvis Costello...
was... just as much
fun as Simon & Garfield...

      pop up:
all is for basic scrutiny...
   a few people
might remember
the championing
of coal miners...
in the form variety
of edvard gierek:
but me...
citing him?
am stupid steward...

but someone telling me
i'm not sitting in
the right place...
while trying to rummage
in the dark
for a "place of origin"...
being told
"it's not that hard" /
"anyone could
make such a mistake"...

and to think...
that so little became the basis
for the most horrendous
acts of man...
no...
a man can be burdened
by a broken arm...
cancer...
a hybrid of
an over-inflated
negation of ease...
but men...
pet-peeves...
   itches...
tooth-aches...
when people become them...
like...
when people become
pedantic,
or purposively
mis-understanding...
and not semi-acknowledging
themselves
in an exaggeration?

me?
personally?
i too want to implenet
killing...

   since what remains,
leaves to remnant
of a redeemable
quality's worth
of either crux: or beyond
it...
to say say:
i am no sadist,
to ingest a hard-on
from the moaning-&-groaning
of a person
on a plate of:
that most, tiresome ingestion
of... what...
should have never been
the circumstance
for the comparison
                  of caro: qua verbum.