could you ever believe being
chatted to
on the bus stop,
then on a bus,
by a very inquisitive woman
who didn't take the bait...
simply answering
'but you will not see
me ever again'...
sure... but it's not like
i have megaphone about
to join the speaker's corner
crowd in hyde park
either: when i'm going
to a brothel...
   and not to a fwend's house
to smoke a joint...
good thing from the whole
affair...
        she's flirting in public...
from what i've heard:
she does have a boyfriend...
i meet someone from
high-school...
a real bully prior to turning
16 and entering college...
we went to glasbury (wales)
together for a week...
   happy to know that...
i was the only white kid
sitting on a table...
riddled with... "elephantiasis"...
     while eating breakfast
and dinner...
all the white irish catholics
from east london excluded me...
for i sat with the "bambos"...
   me?
i think that ****** was
bullied at school,
    i have similar surname...
which no one bothered
to condense into
   E = MC (squared)...
           so we chatted along...
i was trying to slyly get her
off my back...
         i'm going to my "girlfriend"
lady... a brothel...
you know... that bourbon parlour...
it's not perfume...
but it'll do...
       only until i met:
Daniel...
      who i named Richard
in my lack of a nostalgia
and pretty much all the amnesia...
she let go...
        i returned en route
to the brothel...
and spent a decent hour...
having forgotten to trim
my ***** hair, to use my *****
objects...
   *** dolls and ******...
we kissed for an hour
until i felt like a teenager again...
lips numb...
            and no clashing
front-teeth...
   and i began investigating
a fetish i never thought
was in me...
           scent...
the hair...
           and the skin...
below the neck...
stuck within the collar-bone area...
and hands...
       so much more than
being able to grip a basketball
with one hand...
   i held in my hand...
  something akin
to the beauty and tenderness
of an origami swan...
a *******'s hand...
       but the scent of hair...
within the confines
of a bourbon perfume factory
of a brothel?
                        i was happy
to have forgotten to trim my *****
so she would perform
******* and climbed on
top of me, with her fat, cuddling
thighs...
                    it would never be...
hit-lear...
          or...               stall-lean...
i'm guessing the surname
bullying started in school...
             all the achtung, achtung
for me...
                   people do tend
to grow with a focus on
the most... mundane *******...
the girl at the bus-stop,
who decided to ride a bus with me...
brave little girl...
    she even told me that her
father walked... all the way from
africa... across africa...
and then took a boat to europe...
        yeah...
men objectifying women...
happened around the same
time that i would never become
much of anything
with a woman armed with
a *****, was i?
               thank you god
            that i still have a *******!
i don't need to hear
this crap...
   this...            "θινγ" of a...
             "φινγ"...
                                    dominance...
hmm...
      who would have thought
that all men were just...
sleepers... of instances
of a furthering of jack the ripper
instances...
         but it's good,
that i sieve through
a plethora of eclectic "biases"
     (how does that
noun adjective combo look like?
pretty awful,
i know, but rarely can you
make the "mistake"
in tautology seem...
               trans-categorically
"accurate"...
          i.e. a plethora is
                        eclectic by nature)...
a man is shamed
when *******...
must be a monotheistic
snippet-scenario...
but a woman...
*******...
     is given money,
give-go and a video
                          medium!
it's not like there's any
latex involved...
sometimes i just
forget...
     is it the grand canyon
cleft
   of the *******,
          or the buttocks?
chandelier ***
                      cow-tow?
ah... petty sentiments...
       to... know...
the difference...
        fudge-packaging
of a limp **** stashing
enough ****** to
emerge as a cut-off...
                      in ***** form.
books to be read
using only one hand...
ingenious!