.this was in the waiting, it was teasing me, it had to wait for a while before it needed a sort atypical video response, video, akin to what happens in the internet's soap opera segment of cultural expression... what, like the fact that you don't see any music videos on m.t.v. and that youtube video is not the new normal? again: a plethora of experiences: and *****, please meme... wouldn't be taken out of context, right about now? prince is available on youtube, for once, which makes slightly bewildered as to why trust and partyman were no on his greatest hits.

every single turn of the page,
and i'm still
trying to content the argument
with regards
to the "ownership"
of certain words,
             well, only about one
"certain" word,
   and it's if a happy-go-to drunk
is suspect on the ground of:
malicious intent...
               it must be a cultural
thing: this thing of needing
to breathe the whole bits of air
that is only around 20% oxygen,
not some sterile diving
experience...
     all, or nothing,
             the whole atmosphere,
the poison fumes,
                the whole
atmosphere of vocabulary...
         however hard i try...
       i seem to reject this
     blind spot mentality...
        this enforced amnesia...
  this blank this blank that...
          who needs to walk or speak
with a stutter?
        walk on eggshells
all you want:
   or listen to the stand-in reasoning
akin to an owen benjamin
in persona non grata
               (atlanta georgia) -
i mean:
   did i say something wrong,
when i said that i'd still be stuck
with a clarinet up my ****
    and all the methodological
classical music of europe...
is it a scenario where in africa
          they didn't come with guitars
and trumpets?
         because sure as ****
we wouldn't have jazz and blues
and all that became the groundwork
for modern music...
       and...
   come to think...
most of these sensitive h'americans
of a "certain" disposition
have ever been to africa and spoken
to the africans...
  kenya...
            really great people...
i found myself sitting alone
    at a table sipping a cognac
  and coffee (when i still could,
  high blood pressure,
  can't even drink a pepsi these days)
and, here you:
   three ivory beauties sat
next to me and we started chatting
about this that and the other...
and i'll say this much...
   nothing is as beautiful as the indian
ocean bashing against the kenyan
shore at night...
     i even cried at the sight...
so, no,
        as if it doesn't actually imply
an urban slur these days...
      vomito *****...
a somewhat off-shoot underground
band...
       what now,
   the missing dip into a double g
missing?!
            no one ever
teach these people self-deprecating
humour
                  like a hebrew might?
looks like it's a no-winner scenario...
you can posit all the jazzman
above all the classical music...
      and still a drunken slip of
the tongue and you're:
       just an inch shy, just a tidbit
short of being trampled by
a horse...
                     bemoan as i might...
over this, anglophonic
    cultural "curiosity"...
                    it's just sick,
         i'm happy to be rid
               of the little bit of sickness
that clung for a while.