i stopped wanting to mind the numbers...
count the footsteps,
on a beach,
when the tide comes in
from the eerie aspect
of the north sea...
   the old celts think that the Polen
are the new Saxons...
to: "revive"...
the **** is left to be revived?!
  social-new-standard-awkwardness?
huh?
  the **** do i need that
anchor if my ***** of a ship
will never be met with
harbor, or let alone
be beached:
** **... 'n' a bottle of ***...
it's not sad when i say:
there's a cat in my bed,
i want to drink my last,
i want it to wake up,
i hope we can settle
our differences....
a woman?
  can i go to bed
to a stake....
or a pork chop?
   you have your 2nd tier of
******...
what, the ****,
do you want me, for?
grandpa morals?!
the told-you-so "mystery
of a worth of *******
i'd rather translate into
the worth of a tapeworm?
yes?
you come at me,
you come at me big,
no editor,
pure, bach like polyphonic...
no *******: oops...
chance a game of golf
in between...
  me?
   i'm ******-shopping...
oh... i'm ******* gagging
for the rejects...
i'm gagging for...
what you invested
in a child...
i'll invest in a *******
surrogate
you made fun of!
just... so...
i... can... twist...
the... "imaginary"... knife...
BECAUSE A *******
****** WILL NOT
PERFORM A *******
M16 MASS SHOOTING...
YOU, *******... ******!
i mean authentic...
i mean: impaired...
oh... but the casper
associated folk...
i guess they're right...
what equates to an army
rubric foundation that's
different to a supermarket
rubric foundation
"synonym"?
the shopper is dead;
see, simple logic...
base ******* societies...
can't translate fake wars
into ever more fake social
cohesion...
from: i shoot guns
into: i sell shoes...
i was asked about a hobby...
how is a soldier supposed
to compete with a civilian...
who climbs a mountain-face
with no rope support?
well... but the civilians
made into...
***-butchers made it
to the slaughterhouses before
the soldiers made it to the battlefield...
i made it to the university...
look at me now...
fwee whoop-d'-d'ah...
a ******* *****-wonka scoop...
i'm as not here,
as all the veterans aren't...
nope...
  count me out...
  damaged goods, rotten apple...
like all the crazy ladies said,
when being rejected,
inverting their narcissism:
trophy wives...
    hence my hero:
pontius pilate...
   pssst... i'm.... not.... here...
now?
   i want to go to sleep
having ingested enough whiskey,
but there's a cat asleep
in my bed...
i'm probably... eh...
30 times its size...
   and i love it for the fact
that of the two of us...
i'm the one who has
to deal with all sorts of
nuanced language *******...
while, "it"...
clear precursor,
        antagonist: woof!
**** me...
simply red sounds
even better with time,
just like... simply burgundy
(for some, an alt. to wine).