precursor:

it was such a lovely day...
i was admiring the eucalyptus and the sky...
the moon... and the forever blue of the sky...
i just spent three hours boxing
with a 502 bad gateway error message...

i'm ******* livid.... intellectually exhausted...
i had to splinter my poem into
two parts....

eine fünf tag projekt (teil zwei)
and eine fünf tag projekt...
i hate it...
it's good to hate: it keeps one invigorated...
i had much better plans for
today....

/

      remains of last night's fiddling about: alas!
no violin!
      more a horse's hoof than a bow made
from a horse's mane...

the sun is becoming unbearable...
i abhor these months...
     sure, i might get a suntan...
enough vitamin D... turn into a camel-jockey
a copper-neck...
    a right proper pseudo-Arab...

but so much of the glorious night is replaced
by a dead-bone moon...
without its shine it's splendour...
so much of the glorious night has
been sacrificed for ******-botany to bloom!

ugh... and the insects stirred from the cocoons!
ugly months... joyous people basking
in carbon dioxide highs...

- i've had this thought for almost forever...
based on a single word... generic...
babies are generic... generic implying
the synonymous ascription toward: indistinguishable...
generic babies... generic old timers...
old people are like babies...
all are the same... look the same... smell the same...
behave the same...

the same goes for the really beautiful women...
well... "really" and "beautiful":
duck lips... botox... fake fans...
dolls... Barbie beauty...
     generic... indistinguishable... clone-party...

****'s sake... i think i need to go to an art exhibition...
i'm becoming cross-eyed...
there's a Walter Sickert exhibition at Tate Britain
until the 18th of September...

i need to look at something "ugly":
   uniqueness always comes in an "ugly" form...
it's not ugly ugly...
   it's not even repulsive... women can describe
ugly the best:
   a man they wouldn't **** while at the same
time fantasising about ******* a dog...
or a horse...
        
   "ugly" men: for me? Socrates and the whole bunch
of intellectuals...
Sartre... Serge Gainsbourg...
                 i'm sort of like a dog: a fantasy...
i never fall through...
           but at the same time i'm relieved from
not having any headaches...
  
              to be desired but to not be kept...
to have women think twice...
the last time she knew she couldn't handle me...
plus: i thought: she already has a boyfriend...
her son... as single motherhood goes...
she just couldn't translate boyhood into manhood
that she couldn't train, dictate over...

i'm sort of glad, very glad...
        hell... i'm very realistic!
                                     i mean: if i have fixated all
my efforts on a 2nd Schism in Islam...
spearheaded by the Turks...
                 what's the point of eating sardines
if you're aiming to eat a whale steak?!

i might get drunk each night:
   but i'm never really, truly drunk... thoughtless
or careless... there's an agenda... there's a plan...
the presence of Islam in Europe has always been
a net gain... after all: Islam requires some
rejuvenation... some intellectual oomph!
      
                   here's to pouring some of my *****
into the wine and drinking it...
    because what was once the splendour of
Christianity... the gallery of metaphors...
      has already touched something akin to
the philosopher's stone...
   what was once gold... has turned to ash...
and if people thought that Nietzsche
exhausted the critique...
                                          the time wasn't right...

now... at the zenith of nihilism...
                         now! the final nail in the coffin;
as stressed by Matthew, the Apostate.