i grew up around the time when you'd still
want to watch movies...
that's not to say that Knives Out is a bad
movie... certainly not as quirky as
the Royal Tenenbaums...
it's actually watchable...
i get it... there are only a few actors
out there where their voices come prior
to their faces...
Gene Hackman... Jeremy Irons...
Jack Nicholson...
Cary Grant...Cate Blanchett... some other
notable mentions...
but i found out that: that i just don't have
the attention span to watch a movie...
i can barely make it through
an entire football match... but a movie?!
it's not like i've been hiding
a problem with a.d.h.d. -
3 hours cycling: i can digest... conquering
my mind: ****** it with my body
the route: in reverse: from Collier Row...
to Chigwell... Loughton... Buckhurst Hill...
shyly toward Wanstead and onto the straight
via teasing Manor Park...
Epping Forest is overrated... it's a swamp...
no sequoias...
i can concentrate on a book...
i'm still trying to resurrect my grandfather
to keep his dementia sacred
in repeating the same stories...
while i'd wake up at 5am in winter
and read a book...
why i still haven't read Rousseau is beyond
me...
seems i wasted reading on
Kierkegaard... or someone...
i'd love to watch a movie...
from beginning to end...
i'm keeping the Lighthouse stashed for some
proper timing...
shot in black & white...
well... it's not the Seventh Seal...
although... Bergman's movie about a magician
was far more entertaining than Wild Strawberries...
but "we" grew up in a time when
watching a film adaptation of
high fidelity was something...
when the record shop was Mecca...
i had a girlfriend for whom i made a mix-c.d. for...
she would go to work on Oxford St at
the Mark & Spencer and listen
to this one song i put on the disk...
King Crimson's Epitaph...
i guess Oxford St. at 6am in the morning:
on a sunny morning:
come to think of it:
even Dundee must look liveable when
the sun is shining...
this beautiful ****-up of a city
that's London... if i go somewhere monochromatic:
mono-ethnic i feel a sickness that's
never going to be comparable...
i need to suckle off this... Babylon...
we actually made mixed-c.d.s for each other...
thankfully it didn't become a relationship:
that tired "thing" of... paying taxes: naked...
raising children...
i've listened to the arguments
of men who married young...
my "secret weapon" blah blah...
what sort of man would i have become
if i didn't marry... early... or at all...
i can tell you what sort of man i have become...
i read some philosophy books...
i grew a beard...
i cut my long hair from a hippy monstrosity
into something that looks: up-kept:
respectable...
if i were 35 married with children...
i was dropped a phrase into the inbox
of my ex... i said: she had the saddest face on earth...
i forgot to mention ol' Henry VIII's struggles...
a meat-grinder... of a machine...
5 babies down... no sons... only daughters...
she grew-up in a household with a father
and two brothers...
it must be sad: i suggested...
to be so fertile... yet without a son...
she didn't get why i said she looked sad...
exhausted... from... pooping out
one daughter after another...
nothing to truly mould... no?
regrets... but today i'm oblivious to them...
i have a comfortable warming
blanket of whiskey & cognac...
it almost trickle a sense of sophistication for me
to deal with...
as much as i'd love to buy flowers...
a bouquet of a single pink rose...
let's not overdo the hopes of...
i rather be left intact & curious...
than... somehow barren & oddly: happy...
since melancholy is a statement
of the aura... it's fiddling with: nascence...
well... what a word:
i guess i'm immune to the woke-brigade...
if some are "woke": then i'm: slept...
or.. nascent...
but it can't go without "question":
******* virgins is a terrible idea...
the incel community shares the same
metaphor logic of Islam...
something about a gem in a shop that sells...
jewels... keeping the one pristine gem
intact... hidden...
but... aren't you... selling?
******* virgins is a terrible idea...
give me 72 i'd ask for
72 rottweilers primo...
                 king crimson: starless...
the phantom of the film... MANDY...
the neon demon was a disappointment...
the soundtrack wasn't...
oddly enough i know what ******* a ******
feels like... the cockerel shrinks...
needle... thread... what's being protected is...
a thin skin layer of cobweb...
takes enough practice to lubricate it...
why is purity somehow: so... circumstanced
as important?
they're not exactly Sri Lankan rubber
of bicycles wheels...
i've heard this saying once before:
in passing...
don't marry a very attractive woman..
and as i cycle i pass some examples of breeders...
most of the women are: utensils...
by standards of beauty...
such a waste... all the beautiful ones...
like flowers of every spring... like every generation:
go into prostitution or *******...
the last date i was on
happened after a night out in a club...
she thought...
in the park i downed a bottle of wine...
we went to a bar... i drank some more...
she lied about a prior engagement...
with some friends...
oh look... no convert...
i don't do dating... it's so...
stressing shadow...
                  one pink rose is enough...
if she isn't buying...
better a lubricated ****...
in praise of prostitutes...
                 we're naked: first... we're naked:
last... we keep it... gesticulating at our
desire for cleanliness...
why wouldn't i praise them?
second-hand... what-what?!
               who the **** is some don juan
looking for a nunnery?!
i'm looking for a woman
that might reveal a leather armchair!
might reveal: make alias revelling in it...
without: lies...
i abhor lies...
maybe that's why i adore prostitutes...
she could have slept within
the confines of Solomon's harem:
if... there were as many Solomons
as there were his concubines...
bitter-sweet... as much wisdom as is allowed...
Solomon had no edge over David...
can you write...
a maxim... when a psalm if dawning?

sure... it would be nice to be ******:
to be licked in the funny places...
but i rather churn my own raspberry ice-cream:
and have a concept of "friend": kept to a minimalist
concern...

Johnny Cash made a pact with
Mr. Nairobi... a music producer above all others...
Rick "ricochet" Rubin...
slap on tender paws:
the kangaroo skip-jimmy...

bother me... the scent of the brothel on the tip
with an opened bottle of bourbon...
who the **** was asking for a nun?!
sure as **** i wasn't asking for one...
one of whoever you are: were?!

- that i can grasp the nakedness:
flesh market...
i can own... pigtails i can own...
the breath...
i relieve myself from having torn:
towing ambitions of mother...
grandmother... sister... daughter...

less lament for what i could be...
less lament for:
lament in itself...
              i'll pluck my eyes out...
watch the traffic... cater for the moon:
bloom:
rift and itch...
wholesome...

what would i be... married...
i would most certainly not have
read: any philosophy books...
thank god...
i don't earn enough to pay taxes..
hello unicorns!
hello... waste.
terrible idea for a date...
beginning with...
whoever had the most:
please stand up...

don't feed the gluttonous beast
of envy... of male "prowess"...
a bicycle overpowers the legs
overpowers the need for car:
and a passenger...
lift me: dead...
toward the breath... the air...
the nuance...

in the shallows... on the grounds of
counting pebbles...
among prostitutes...
if i were: somehow: too...
a barber...
a... labrador... a bartender...
but thank god the **** feels so good
that... it doesn't require a date...
all that leash...
praise them all that i can...
because the ones that become
wombs... proper.. mothers...
are... invisible... creatures..
creatures, that they are...
in the least...

               women that would hardly
want to make a Sunday afternoon
into... making...
some homemade raspberry ice-cream...
i don't want to love someone
on a leash: donning a muzzle...

it would be so much easier
if i were just: outright... gay.