idle hands fit for the devil to do his bidding...
perhaps i'll write some more
so more and the devil will come to the fore...
he might just come with
smoke and mirrors: hardly any fire...
smoke and mirrors: hardly any fire...
he might just come with
smoke & mirrors to the fore...
who wouldn't have forgotten
to shave or... for that matter: bring some
sulphuric stink and some: farting-ire...

so i've just changed my bicycle tyre...
yep... i've just change my bicycle
tyre and the inner tube too...
so i've just changed my bicycle tyre
and the inner tube too...
and... well: how mighty these idle
hands now seem...
well: how mighty these idle hands now
seem...

i've saved up about 20 quid's worth
of someone's labour...
but i've also spent us much...
on the necessary parts...

but... but... it's so much more...
when you can cook your own curry
instead of falling back on an Indian take-away...
when you can cook your own curry
instead of falling back on an Indian take-away...
pizzas too: dough with yeast:
grows it grows: it makes it sing!
hey, just listen: jovial fat man sings...
the yeast will make the flour
the sugar, water & a pinch of salt
rise! rise! rise!

- if it's not the pied piper taking the rats
out of town...
it's this best only imagined:
jovial fat man making the yeast
           rise...
he might even:
   play along with king  Solomon's con-tem-
                                                    +            -plation
of the ant... busy yeast busy ants:
the jovial fat man sang
and up up: the dough rose!

throw me a black cardamom grenade!
throw me a black cardamom grenade!
i'll forever make this work:

i have: an arsenal of Indian spices
that could compete with
the Russian or the US stockpile of
nukes...
i have: an arsenal of Indian spices
that could compete with the Russian &
the US stockpile of nukes...

knock knock: who isn't there:
knock knock... the echo... the echo isn't there...
keep up: lyrics... repeat repeat to
keep the rhythm: pink-oi(nk)-poignant...
any blessed fate of deep-fried onion
rings...
one two one two: the same sound
of a rubber ball against a brick wall...
jesus take one: on a cross...
take two on a horse...
jesus dying an old man...
hey! Zeus! you were him too?!

any idiot is supposed to ride a donkey
byway of: back a warding off...

oh look... lyricism was going to swell...
i was almost: "grifting"?
well... good luck writing lyrics
for anything beside
the one time Beethoven managed to write
the music for the lyrics...

not originally Friedrich Schiller's...
whatever the dispute was...
one was deaf... the other blind?

ode to "freedom": what which i might
enjoy last: what's leftover...
what i can have while the forerunners
have exhausted...
and will never find my own...

i was never good at keeping it:
"geometrically": compact...
i was always found to digress even when
i were to finish something with
a promise for lyrics:
i would devolve the lyrics into...
a "word salad" narrative...
all the better... i'm not rhetorician...
i'm not journalists...
if i haven't made any more from my
work...
then... obviously i'm no Salvatore Garau
who just auctioned a $18,300 sculpture...

what's the point of money: if... you don't
want to spend it?

sentiments for all those hijab-clad girls...
when a common reaction comes in the form:
there's... a hair... in my soup...
there's a hair in my soup!
almost akin to: there are some nail-clippings
in my soup... there's a fly in my champagne flute!
in defence of hair?
really... that's all there was: to begin with?
men would never be allowed to grow their hair
long? they would all be bald?
why is it a defence of hair...
a man can shave his head
and present himself with a bald head:
but a goat's beard...

em... there's a hair in my soup?
ugh! the immediate response...
someone was toying with their *****...
there's a nail-clipping...
it's one thing: and i've seen it:
muslim girls donning white-hijabs
in the street... fair enough...
Japan is an island... they're experiencing
record high-levels of... heat... humidity...
England is an island...
we share the same longitude... platitude...

it's a ******* island...
why is having "hair" somehow deemed as
"****"? what's this outdated model
to do with, herr moi?!
hair... what if i'm into shortcut pixie-dream
girl memorabilia?
what if i want to be a man:
and have long hair while i want
her to be short-cut?
Woad princess of the raven hairs: clipped
to a crew-cut... with feathers of tease
ruining my balance as i regroup?!

come to think of it...
what are these two jugs of the female ****...
but only two nibbles: of *******?
why can't i start imagining...
the cow's sack of the mono-***
with multiple *******?
if everything is to made to blatantly:
******* apparent!

i seriously turn into a quasi-paedo
when watching the gymnastics...
then again i correct myself:
i like to stand corrected...
give me anything voluptuous...
fully grown: a mandible beauty of the body...
stash the used-parts...
i'll be happy to watch rust overgrow them...

i've ****** a ****** once...
never... ever... again...
i've seen the mirror imposed...
three incisions into my body with a "***** worthy"
clarification of a knife...
on the right side: just above my collar-bone...
under my right-arm-pit...
where the tętno protrudes... pulse...
and one smooth stroke into the neck...

then to finish it all off...
somewhere in the confiscates of the abdominal
region...
by now... i'm best teasing...
in my 35 years lived...
claiming a marathon riddled with
dementia and bad to worse teeth
aged 70: life expectancy doesn't really
bother me:
i've seen what old age does...
it does very little to proof-read past
deeds with a substance of immunity
from the harrowing...

for those that might mind:
death of glorious relief!
however the life was spent...
either is the exercise of the body...
or the exercise of the mind:
whether in the limelight or
whether in the footnotes ...

it might just rain... while i take to the field...
i'm hardly going to yield a harvest
from it: perhaps an odd thought...
but what's a "thought" these days?
it's not a moral-ought-i nor
a moral-ought-i-not...
i think for a something of a burden:
when once i thought for a cogito-per-se...
i thought for the sake of thinking...
there was no "ingenious" inversion"
ascribed to Nietzsche that i might:
be... therefore to think: a machine of thinking?

i don't think Descartes would allow
himself to be justified: i exist in order
to (merely) think...
he just posited: oh... i suppose i think...
suppose i am too... towing along...
but Nietzsche had to focus on the: denken: arbeit!

how much can one "think" before:
Descartes would call me from the grave and
tell me to invoke the counter to: res cogitans:
imploring me: mention: res vanus! mention
res vanus! the empty thing...
the sensual creature! the creature
who absorbs cursors! motives... motifs...

****'s sake... sum ergo cogito...
well then... if you are... Nietzsche...
where was your... *******... lightbulb?
same as me... although i find minor concerns
best targeted...
what example? i'm pretending to be deaf...
oh... you know... the vampire of brooklyn...
Albert Fish... Fitsch... sticking needles
into his pelvis before being electrocuted...

philosophers: alias to...
fan-boys spinning narratives of artists...
the subjective-object...
the objective-subject... blah blah...
the gymnast who is fudge-packaged body
without the height of a swimmer Olympian...
i must say... beside the women...
the male swimmers still hold the highest
aesthetic for a male body: exemplar...
above every, other sport...

i drink to excess: therefore:
i have a slightness to excess in a "stomach ache"...
what... in between not having
a war to wage... too much competition...
me suckling up to the sleep of
PHENERGAN... no alcohol...
and me drinking some alcohol
and succumbing to some... APAP...
and some anti-inflammatory NAPROXEN...

it's not a fair competition for sucky-sucky...
is... it? it's not a fair competition
when within the confines of: said:
competition... there are so many...
ailing... exemplars of supposed
zenith ambitions...

while i wallow in the crustaceans nibbling...
itch itch some more...
nibble itch... itch some more...
i've learned a lesson of patience that
overcomes all that's...
necessarily... of such strong stock of body...
but with a feeble mind...
thank god i've been patient...
brain as chemical soup...

at what point am i to be excused
not remembering my 20s?!
now?
is this the right time to cash in on the hovering
gimmicks worth of chips & slabs?
a litany of: when i was...
but no one was bothered to
watch?!

what love i had...
what love i could have worshiped...
each letter... each letter guided toward
constructing a word... each word
with each and every punctuation marker...
added marker: with diacritical scrutiny...
will be... aided... with nothing short
of: oh no... no evil... nothing associated
with: d(evil) to do evil...
rather..            malice... irksome... bothersome...
little... fidgety awe...

i want to be something: belittling... nothing:
awe inspiring... i could have been...
once... the world made it obviously:
fair... fair to me...
goodness is ridiculed and waiting for
the slaughter of those having made it to old age...

a daughter will.. estrange herself from her
mother... my mother... my grandmother...
over how my grandmother kept the death
of her father: my grandfather... a secret for almost two
months... while my uncle: her brother: her son...
somehow knew all about the deterioration...
two days prior only i found about him being
subjected to a hospice...

AND ME... REPRODUCE?!
START A FAMILY!
I'VE BEEN TASKED WITH COUNTING
WHAT MARBLES I HAVE LEFT...
I'M TO BIND MYSELF WITH CONCERNS
FOR "HEALTH": THE "MIND":
WHILE ALL THESE SEEMINGLY...
PONTIUS PILATE CRITTERS...
WALK... SCALD-FREE!
DICTATING WHO REQUIRES
THE PSYCHIATRIC BRAIN CHEM-SOUP...
SO THEY CAN KEEP A ******* HARD-ON?!

it would truly require me to...
take the most... freely accessible... nonsense:
*****-nilly solipsist of the bunch
to the slaughter... and they wouldn't even know...

this "poetry": this civilization can die...
die a dog's death...
but it won't die a "dog's" death...
it'll die a death of man...
under the umbrella branch of mulattos...

there's no longer a crucified centre to hold it...
the tide has come...
the fire is gluttonous.... yes...
there's no longer a crucified centre to hold it...
the tide has come...
the fire is gluttonous.