.to never waste a good prose-esque (prosaic?) impromptu on a stuttering for rhyme: all in all - to never waste a good impromptu on a constipation of rhyme - knock-knock... no one's there... comes the cascade, that the impromptu has a mind of its own - that it has stolen my fingers and my hands... i'd sooner choke on a rhyme than "think" it might ease the digestive process of reading - such that the eyes see first - which implies the tongue does not necessarily have to elevate itself beyond its genesis status of an oyster in the shell of a skull - plenty of riches surround it - all these pearls tightly clenched into a grin... that i would never waste a good enough impromptu on a constipation of rhyme...

'by hampstead heath'
    the teleprompter, might have said
and thus began:
    by hampstead heath no sign of tomorrow...

but truth be told: that only sounds
all buttery and pretty and daffodil *******
a hyacinth sort of pwetty...

i've seen further afield and turned my gaze
away from the scarred sky
of the gargantuan lung that heaves
as much life to live
as much as it tramples said life
to a mush of murk, soot,
                               and phlegm...

enough to take my shadow my dog
on a leash of thought
    and these legs as aporte
   up noak hill toward and through
ingrebourne way: a horizon of hiding,
teasing, tilting and foraging buttons
   of focus for the eyes...
    a canvas such that is -
a most organic england...
     where ghosts of a people have
been frolicking to the demands
of pagan nudes and smoking barks
of acorn and of oak...
     an angevin england a tudor england...
before: how ready or not the world
might have been for the later guise -
the umpire and his tourists...
before... now... an inorganic england
with its imported mosques
in the urban shrill of scratching metal
and gluttonous concrete bulge and crackle...

- it's truly amazing not knowing:
why to begin, what to begin for (which
is nothing more than a fiddling of
the first why prompt) -
                                with what to begin,
perhaps even: to what end?
**** and **** again: another why...
but as ever:
there's always this persisting how...

to reiterate: why? why?! to whine!
or at least... to pretend to not be in a whining
concert(o)...
as such: this is apparently me...
not wining and dining but...
                     no... there's a simpler why:

why no. 1: because i was never much of
a d. h. lawrence fan (by omission)
        and now it is a fine hazy morning
and i've just read some of his... rhymed whining...

why no. 2a: it's morning, and i'm thankful
that it's not the afternoon,
    and that's a why no. 2b mind you:
probably never again... nibbling on the night,
past midnight, drinking feverishly,
convincing myself of "genius":
  as any drunk who has caught less
    a flu more a bravado cough ends up doing...
which is to say:
a cocktail of bravado                &
                    gusto...
perhaps some other time...
   when unnecessary laughter out of
blue-moon imminence is that last absolutely
necessary - stomach in stitches sort of shenanigans..

- and that's probably enough
of the why's: plural, question -
if (a) is the indefinite article...
and (the) is the definite article (v'eh point...
rather... no θank you very much)
then... possess me! O unnecessary
pedantry - raise me to a vapid polemic:
throw me a peacock of verbiage!
     - then the (s) is both a plural article
and a ('s) - apostrophe -
                 a possessive article:
                      an article of possession...

- which brings me to how...
              i suppose with language, on a spare...
i see no wrong with whining
   like so... if one can also be whimsical about
it...
  pretend one has an accent of ascent
befitting one to use such pronoun 3rd person
(i am a multitude of schizoid remains
safely mitigated in vitro)...
an accent less orientated in and around
essex or the extension of east london...
north-east loon & don...

and how else? 26 apparently necessary
tools - from which Na
                                       is a prefix for
   na-            +           -me
                  sodium / natrium /
                                     codex graeca -
    say... the alpha, beta croaking phallus junction
of p.o.w. machismo...
what war? oh... just a made up
war of words... props and grandists...
                          eat an E drop an I...
                  how... mein gott... the infinity
of hows and howls...
yet still finding only one suitably inoffensive
universal why...
as if a why isn't already too late
and is hardly justified...

as a student of kant might have put it:
oddly enough everything that's how is
a priori...
while the why is a posteriori...
             - do we need to muddle the words
further with that quadratic rubric of shorthand
i.e. synthetic a priori vs. analytic a priori etc.?
i've heard it somewhere...
mind you...
     having recently been injected with
a bug, a sickness for walking...
                        an incessant need as it were...
however much i fashion myself
with enough slow-burning grub...
at the zenith of 3 hours...
the blood sugar level drops to the point
where i can taste acidic metal in the air
and i start to chew: either my tongue,
my teeth together...
              a dignified discovery of
nostalgia in the form of maynards
                                   bassetts wine gums...
the chemical strawberry in that instance...
far superior to the real thing...
however i look at it...
it would be wrong to eat a strawberry
in winter... the analytical bonkers route of
imported from spain: a watery mush of
punched-up rouge...
   but this... synthetic taste of strawberry...
it's hardly...
                but it's its own variation
of: at best imitated - but at least not the worst
of an over-ripe original...

    - as such, the day can begin with its
slouching - its miraculously stitched together
humbling - that i can find a momentary
repose - exceeding expectations i'll demand
of myself later - or rather later forget -
bride of amnesia - memories for rent:
a hybrid of a cameo role
      and an out-of-proportion cyclopean
subjectivity that tease from
the omni- litany a needle eye's coercion
of concentrated blind spots.