better than a poem.... a promenade...
          not the noun "vs." noun...
in the realm of verbs...
it's one "thing" to call a tomato a fruit...
a cucumber a vegetable...

salmon pink moon hue
with an air tonight
so crisp: it deserves discovering INXS
for the first time...

this mighty biscuit of the moon...
hardly shipwrecked against
some distant constellation...
or itching rooftops or
teasing mountains...

everything was so alive
in the cool breeze...
no gods were summoned
to explain... this solipsistic adventure...

teased by the senses
with a leverage to tickle the extremes...
and bubbles towed...

such an icy prized briefing
of locality:
towing a mind like an anchor...
before the altar of
what two feet spine erectus...
became a cinema of
the centipede...

    better than a poem...
a promenade...
hell... this deserves a mathematical
sharpening:

crude...
   a poem < a promenade...
and i passed one of these two or three...
restaurants...
the schizophrenic riddled:
futuristic no flying cars though...
no neon strobe epileptic lighting
worth a tomorrow...

   a poem < a promenade...
    the air was electric... it was...
stealth in giving juice...
even the pavement seemed to
be clapping...
with each ninja step placed
with imitation of the stealth cat
passing by gravitating toward
the concept of ghosts...

a poem < a promenade...
          what seemed intact...
and what was already bound
to outer-urban decay:
the differential scrutiny didn't
bother me...

almost two weeks freed from...
medication that aimed
to make me better...
herr schwachkopf...
and this is somehow...
not "challenged"... somehow...
the hippocratic oath
in the realm of psychiatry...

           extensions of a willingness
come: falling asleep today...
if only it came down to the crux:
of becoming: debilitated by
a heartbreak...

ghost buses... tonne load of shadows
and freak-out...
constrict imitation glue...
random words:
borrowed lexicon-bombs...

a poem < a promenade...
    <
            <           <     <

i see the symbol... and i know the words
hidden within them...
a poem <is less than> a promenade...
unlike diacritical marks...
or the critique of punctuation:
     colon no italics...
because... colon = italics...

outside of the claustrophobia /
myopia of a prosaic paragraph and...
staging a fake *** dialogue?
              < contra... š...
                                  ж (fwench je suis)...
                   ш...     SHape of... ****...
                       >            hôpital ...
           <š
                             ô>:
   let's just pretend...     H is a surd in english
too...        the apostrophe could be
more frequently used...
causing revelation when it
and it would always come down
to... a...     'ammering...

   (best plugged in...)

rock-cho'-kim-ouch-and-then-the-chewing...
like... bargain busting
an ape *** from moor-yokko-coco-solo-oh-no!
straight up to the moon...
for a telescope riddle-me-this...
sorting session...

japanese gravure... idols...
**** as an insinuation...
because... i have a **** the equivalent
of a prized bull...
and she has a face and a mouth...
like any... porcelain doll might...
unequivocally: lambasting... a concept
of... a tired old grenade...

   teeth like double-dodgers...
of a... corn-flake smiley...
                
     2 < 3...
                 4 > 3...
                              a vowel < a consonant...
but no "lost" meaning...
                      when borrowed...
forbidden pleasures...
the forbidding: a mere thought of...
having to not grieve...
all the already in tow... restrictions...
sensible pleasures...
            
    the theatre of thought...
marquis de sade's ******...
                        "vs." nabokov's ******....

daddy issues...
mummy issues: ed gein...
                             subconsciously...
unconsciously... and...
                   all these ******* dreams...

power-pill mode...
                 my own little escapade of...
rummaging in lost details...
     word-bombs of spontaneity...
a poem < than...
    < it comes from its own... demand...
the word: than...
   a poem <
                 is, less, than...
                                      a promenade...
this evening of... slow-coach and
loitering for the moon... hued with a tinge
of teasing smoken salmon...
hanging low...
  шut up! i too thought about...
                   suit... the mingled with rugby posts
of a H...
  not AN h...
                              
                       a solipsism is not autism...
it's... oscar winning performances
of winging-it... simulation practices...
   wouldn't anyone not tire...
of all those *******... formal cameo
conversations to degrease the cognitive loop
of animation imitating inanimate objects...

like... walking into a store...
like a painting...
and... "suddenly"...
a person is presribed to your presence...
since... he alone can move...
those unmoveable objects...
onto the counter of you making
a transaction...

         i abhor faking those
formal cameo conversations...
of shopping for essentials...
     when i know the money i will spend...
is not the money i need conversation /
extra attention for...
if i were walking into a shop...
unexpected in somehow spending more...
than i expected...
   i walk in to buy a skeleton...
or some muscular mush since i already
own an exoskeleton...
    
          as i am about to solve the "mystery"
of cow-towed europe...
with count of 3 rotten teeth...
1 of mine... 2 of my father...
                 it's that blessed presumption
of democracy in the great western slavic
enterprise of: what once was...
the brothel of kings that's currently:
in situ with a synonym: poland...
     or: king john's nickname...
lackland...
   ******'and!
        laugh out loud: when living strapped
to a people with a clarity of border...
sea! to the north! of us!
sea! to the east! of us!
sea! to the west! of us!
sea! to the south! of us!
   oi! geoffrey! oi! paddle!
we're getting from this ****** perspective
of: island... we're... heading... straight...
to the moon... to **** around
with hans christine andersen....

         dream big! no ottomans or mongols
are or will ever be at... our doorstep...
from the period of the norman invasion...
from the romans... such pride...
the last usurper of peace...
was a... 20th century zeppelin...
  and... that's about it...

i like living the basic truth of being
a historical continuum unit...
true... not children... i'll foster some...
one is bound to foster some...
in the end...
hell... i'll give up my mind to foster them...
so much less heart...
when it comes to investing in a future...
i was always prescribed a future:
i wrote for the present...
a "circa"...
                          because i never believed
in children with a personal
investment on the cards...
i can't imagine...
i tried a placebo once...
a distant cousin of mine...
aged... toddler-weight...
i was frankenstein: he was...
again: i was the monster...
what i fiddled with was...
a ***** of glue...
glue and mortar...
        details of bone...
breath... later invested in brat...
and... precursor details of a budding
physiognomy: a detail of...
prejudice... etc.          etc.

i know i would be a terrible father...
i'd be a father that wouldn't...
speak to its child...
i'd treat it like...
that experiment... prescribed by...
   frederick (II) hohenstaufen...
what tongue came first: budding...
from the downfall of babel...
and the resurrection...
a babel for a tower... a pyramid scheme...
for all loss of reins...

i don't know how i should suffer...
not having a child in that...
i don't know how...
i would not abound in glee...
having prescribed him or her...
my signature of mistakes to replica...
unique signature... sure...
but still... somehow...
a detailed study of a clone in...
"will"... in "free will"...
                
       i own a bed... but i rather sleep on
the floor... bone breaking experience:
call for dog... on the clarity of wood...
i own a bed... but i rather sleep on
the floor....

             brothels... oh the scents...
bourbon... mostly... sickly sweet whiskey...
brothels and bourbon...
i went to them to excavate...
an amnesia...
if came back... riddling that...
lost and last pride of....
   after we ****: we kiss...
sleeping with glued pucker ties
to: the kisser...
of them: making a signature
with a tease of a... crow-hark...
     signature... crease..
                    an extension exclaiming:
pardon! pardon! signature...
    the pause...
                         a signature weaving...
braid teasing...
**** with a mohawk or...
a real trim-razor funk of...
         the 80's hype of... mr. mullet...
big fig in new zealand and
              alpha male rugby boyo...

how her eyes softened when i closed
them with a kiss...
of course we retired from pistons and ferrari
buckaroo...
                  i come to retire my mind
with a cinema of a brothel...
i come to... desire less and less
of a memory: knowing that there's
a serenity of having invested in...

           i tend to use two mirrors to have
to concentrate on being...
debased by a selfie...
or what once was...
   the missing ******... narrator...
  i need two mirrors to take a "selfie"...
ever wonder and bewilder yourself
with the days...
when people took photographs of you...
unsuspecting?!