oh!

                                      look here!

                          a blank canvas...

   i sometimes open one
                     up and forget about it...

i scroll through minor
                                  drama on the internet:

i was never a big fan
of soap opera...

  however english...
however ******...
or mexican or turkish...

but given that i'm
drinking a bottle of ol' jack...
i sometimes over-stretch
the "markers"...

bourbon is no whiskey...
and whiskey: who can enjoy
too much of that sort of:
"debating"...

     i have before me
a myopia of sentences...
the far right's: kind sir... sir...
n'est ce-pas: mr. samuel weller?

oink oink rock a boat?
i have lived in england...
well into the count of 2 decades...

who are the natives?
the irish are the natives
of these isles?
are they? i.r.a.
placard and the plantagenet
name: in name alone...

           the scots are the natives?
well sold! this... union of
suppose-we-do-so-and-likewise...
yes?
             i hear... a... ochenaid...
sigh... hark at the CH...
          o"X"e-n'ah-eed...
                      rummagining
for... sparrows... wheelbarrows...
squirrels and rats and cockroaches:
the natives!
i'm looking for the natives!

i must have been... cushioned...
oh too well...
by the irish immigrant population...
back in Goodmayes... Seven Kings...
i don't even want to think
i met a PROP'AH english custom...
of the tongue and patriotism...

always had to mingle with
the irish... the scots...
    somewhat the welsh...
   once i visited Cheltenham...
for the festival... the book awareness:
slogan read:
they're not door-knobs!
  brick would have been just fine...
fine...

             but i never heaved...
to curate myself around...
the ****** diaspora...
one thing "we've" learned...
there's no concept of mafia...
a china town... a mossad...
                the ottoman barbers...

over 20 years in england...
and... yes... i've perhaps met a few...
"locals"...
but the other "locals" have already
treated the locals i've met as...
paving... something...
worth a digression...

       i calls it the irish cushion...
the hard work has already been invoked...
not that... an englishman ever fought...
on the plains of masovia...
but i'm, pretty sure,
    the ****** squadron... 303?
pilots... dog-fights over dover an la manche...

what-a-doodle-do-no-more-doable?
Cheltenham... such ripe...
harvest of... ****** **** pears and plums...
and a little bird asked:
were these fruits plucked...
picked... and stashed for selling...
by Romanians?

my dearest: Dorset!
         my Exeter...
               as "we" all know...
my... my... "my"...
          hardly... speak the tongue of
subservience... make "my" and... "own"...
  subconscious complications
of affairs with an already established...
philately...
                          
can anyone please tell me...
what ING-land... and at what point...
is an E ever stressed?
banking on the mixer...
the letter-stripping: shape in place...
but the sound a bit: 'ffy...
               iffy... i.e. off...
         did some roundabout loops
on the matter...
came back with clues from sahara...
i.e. no footprint...
pretended to **** on the sand...
to ease... some moisture onto
the riddle...

  no dear: rhubarb sprout...
                   but once in a while...
i hear the natives speak...
i've heard the welsh...
i've heard the scots... i've heard
the irish...
  but the ING- and the ĘNG-LEASH...
tow... baron tow a...
            Florida over-ere!
         let's have! Maine!
                      
   king john and the pole:
****** - lack-land...
              ha ha... the fable of richardson...
and big richard... with no whittle...
charlemagne... my my:
         sr.                and no future jr.

will smith in gemini man...
plays... a... incel... killer...
                               will smith as an incel killer...
gotta rock the boat...

colonel hans christian and a heg's...
a statue with a missing leg...
bonkers united...

        i sometimed hear my parents
speak... and being the sort of loser
that still lived into his 30s
as a charcaol - a slave of the solipsistic
adventures of tending to a ****
and some *******...

             the heaven of a mother
and father... and the hell: theremin...
wax job...
a father met a mother...
  the crux of the story...
is that they met...
in a vicinity... a town....
          the story suggests...
they knew: the names if streets...
and the names of cafes...

             mind you... i know
a whittle place... ol' loondon...
on the outskirts...
ballerinas come 'ere most often...
for skate and a chance to
break a ******* leg:
call it a: spot a vaginal floral piece...
come up with a fortune...
selling a...
                     julian grater:
otherwise known as:
                  a peter gabriel album
sleeve... nimb cutting...
         from an eight part series...

      charcoal / graphite / pastel / acrylic /
       bitumen / beeswax / straw...

floral patterns... "somehow"....
revealing / revelling in a crucifix...
               whatever... happened...
to depictions of glorified... madonna...
and the iron maiden?
they will stage coup e'tats on statues...
but not...
the torture instruments of
the state...
the crucifix needs! preserving...
thank god... for the guillotine... no?

i need to heave a lasting...
exhaustion of breath... bound by a tidying
in a crucifix...
gold-mine! a ******* gold-mine!
i see... words like
strobe-light flickering discoteque
"nuances"...

my parents knew... several streets...
and their town was...
a makeshift... Basildon...
i know a different reality...

   Coventry St....
         Beehive Lane...
                   Havering Road...
      i know streets...
little to do with a concept of
bubble... and town...
              this... luquidation of time...
time... well spent...
time... invested... time... abandoned...
they have these shared avenues...
i was supposed to jump ship...
bail-out... find myself a decrepit suitor
of warm womb flesh...
a sparring partner to no tennis...

   and abduct her... with... a foetus...
lavish!
                     suppose there came:
two!
                it was all... formidably:
accurate... in how... the "game" would...
progress...
the loser that i am:
so much for not being homeless...
a lavish drinker of bourbon...
i'm more of a slave...
a curator for cats more than anything...
the 2008 financial crash
didn't bother me...
when... i was rudely woken up
by the existence of soul...
never... make the least concern:
psychosis a waste...
it's not... a l.s.d. "overdose"...

there's something... special...
a temporal... synchronicity about "it"...
the "magic" happens with a loitering...
bravado...
   it happens but it doesn't happen...
at the same time...
you're humbled... without a tenacity of...
being... a forewarning prophet...
there's not memorable time...
shifting forward...

       the persistent prison of all that is...
now... it's a London...
and it's a London with...
say... dull-strapped Sikh done two-ways...
a welcome... proselyte grief
for the jew: having succumbed to islam...
a catholicism: with no necessary
protestant conversion...
no sung anthem... no...
dickensian take on...
a *******... lackey...
there's just: the moderation of...
a... "speech impediment"...
      
  n00b for *******... whenever...
a **** would appear! and...
a face with a beetroot tinge would just so...
happen... to blush... to... keep you away from...
singing in the choir's crescendo!

the looters' choir theme boy:
a **** "bono" wałęsa...
    to have invested in a dynamic
of a foreign currency...
best better: than... in...
made in china... in the metallurgy
exploits etc.
                      i am no patriot...
   a bit like... the jew in new york...
might think himself an israelite...
              how much time away...
among... foreigners...
will make you... inclined...
to return to... "home"...
               israel is about much a home...
as poland is for the diaspora living
away from it...
               there's... a lithuania?
there's a... latvia... an estonia?
                          
israel is like a baltic state...
              of those who do not live in it...
and of those...
cosmopolitan enough...
living outside of it...
  i bless this anchor...
this... dragging my down...
seemingly... insensible...
when... english... puritanical / liberal...
sensibilities... oh god! the french are coming!
continental intellectualism is...
is what it is...

                    two maxims emerge
as modus operandi...
  when the people have lost trust...
in both the media and the politics sham'b'oh...

oculus per oculus: eye for an eye...
and... the golden rule...
      treat others... as you'd want others
to treat you...
           i would be inclined...
to look beside the doorsteps...
of western liberalism...
   the black in mongolia...
and the antithesis of celebrating genghis...

what statue of his... could hear...
the echo... of a... toppling?
                 sooner a horse laughs!
the pristine whip of:
alienation...
               the liberal cuck-mantra...
of western diplomacy...

   somehow iraq was and...
oh don't get me started on libya...
                the posthumous will
of a pristine... resurrected Winston C.!

the terrible price of writing:
you also desire to drink... more...
for all their worth...
the sober... the un-****** pristine angels...
selling matchsticks and pockets
filled with toothpick humour:
for the toothless!

                   i beckon... the details
of both ditto and a filling...
akin to a full...       stop                               .