well Bukowski and the drudgery of work and Mathias Eshlert and the arbeit macht frei of work about to cook chicken wings and make a potato salad with spring greens and radishes and i remember a line from a movie form the 1950s how radishes were the supposed cause of going mad or rather not marrying a girl because a witch cast her eyes on the to-be-wed i mean:
at the Leeds vs Southampton match a manager with no high viz then you know you're dealing with someone senior (not important, senior, there's a distinction at work, there is no hierarchy as such only tenure, there needs to be a philosophy of work and there really isn't a philosophy of work there are no philosophical works concerning the philosophy of work but you can mention Heidegger's analogy of the hammer in that there are these supposed laborers who are working and while working they talk about philosophy
well currently the hot topic in the workforce and we are talking a predominantly male working environment there is talk about history and esp post-colonial history of the English a talk of the English before the union with the Welsh and the Scots it's as if these former colonial subjects think it is easy to find an English identity from all the quashed qualms with the Scots and to be honest
i've seen father bring back construction schematics and read them
i finished writing the poem Alz Heinz and decided to go and buy a bicycle waited like a **** / a stump at the bus stop for eternity and realised with the fresh air hitting me...
yesterday this manager approached me and gave me a bundle of A3 pages crowd control schematics which is a dynamic schematic of colored dots on construction schematics and we're talking dynamics given i was only in charge of 3 guys to cordon bag restriction measures and we weren't even drawn onto the schematic there were the soft ticket checkers and their two supervisors, roughly 30 of them and there were the two response teams and their supervisors but there was no... SSE? that's code for EES we weren't on the schematic but i was given the schematic drawings it's a dynamic affair exposing the left hemisphere to such drawings so with my right hemisphere i turned the drawing into a dynamic could call it spurring on a hallucination or rather i just heard of this theory of the brain and its asymmetry only today getting the blues from a day off lying in bed no i will not listen to the audible book
in the end father picked me up and we sped to the shop to flash cash but instead got turned down because only used bicycle can be ridden out of shop not display bicycles i truly felt like a ****** or perhaps this time is precious and i shouldn't feel embarrassed to have family perhaps there's this familial stigma burn in the air of modern society that you sometimes experience the CRAB BUCKET...
KRABBEIMER MISTEIMER...
i was handed down a holy grail no, of no importance my neighbor came round and they chit chat with mother no the day is still not spent but just refreshing the memory: kept the memory it jolted me in the fresh air should have kept the schematic memorandum
in the end i was supervising four supervisors an ego-trip now when written but an ego-destruction in live time yesterday negotiating with Leeds fans and i managed to persuade people to throw away their rucksacks unprecedented when on gate 3 working with the quadrant manager Marc "zee Frenchie" i.e. i was tested for quadrant stature on the east stand with the two staircases if i were to be given both staircases and Altantik Way but just saying the fact that i was given the schematics it almost felt like i advanced away from construction but construction made alive by people using venues post-construction and these are no houses we're talking about but the two arguments that make my life easier when dealing with rowdy customers (of experience) is that: you don't walk with a drunken hard-on to argue and fight in a supermarket so please excuse our staff from dampening your little euphoric excursion to watch a concert or a football match never mind i always thought that supposedly appreciating any sport while intoxicated is the ultimate debauchery of spirit and of heart and the **** of fog of mind because when it comes to utilizing alcohol and **** i need music and the capacity of literacy a literate agency a stress of not being a surgeon an architect a werewolf or pirate in the sexed-up mixocology of feminine hormones of studying attractiveness levels ugh that 1 - 10 scaling like it's so ******* vague but so vogue so distraught am i ugh...
12h standing the commute sit-down doesn't help i need to kneel to relax the shins i need to kneel and write idle hand's ******* jesus or satan last time i heard the devil appreciated more the idle pleasure of typing typo itchy fingertips or if no itchy fingertips then people biting their fingernails last time i heard keratin does not taste of carrot and there is not carrot taste to be found in biting nails or ******* hair although i must agree that i love a little bit of hair just above the **** maybe i'm old fashioned but that's my sexuality and i have had Ilona aged 20 when she was all happily shaved but then i think about:
puff pastry, candyfloss and the burrowing of the nose in both hair then oyster of the ***** and then i remind myself of, only recently, scratching myself till i bled on the stubble that appeared with chin after a 10 year tenure of Robinson Crusoe although i must say with some Turkish tailoring in the barber category of aesthetics but i do like some fluff just above the **** i'm about to eat and if Jesus was a Woman i would have given an oyster to eat instead of bread
and Eidie this is a religious experience to counter your "chirst": cosmopolitan joke choke i swear to god the apycryp...
nassfotze! nassfotze!
i'm done with spelling this one word got away i will keep it live and abrupt seriously there is no need to oblige the editorial process this is not getting printed but then printing was cheap back around 900ad in Baghadad i don't understand the European fascination with firsts that printing press was hardly revolutionary but made so by the second christians of Alexandria i.e. the Mongols in Baghdad set us back over 1000 years what a trip thank you: so many people in Pakistan have the surname Khan like that was the Mongolian ***** deposit that precipitated with the surname that was once a title
Genghis probably Great Magnitude of Charlie Can do what the **** i can not-transliterated as Khan with the surd H to give an almost diacritical emphasis given its inclusion but overall silence... the eyes see what the tongue is ought not speak the eyes see what the tongue ought not speak the eyes see what the tongue is not to speak... wow wow wow what a strange word this ought...
oh jeez and Louise and i'm getting all tremor enamored all tremor enamored 30 messages no reply finally i replied after three days of 12h hour shin breaking shin straining like torture before kneeling and writing into the night high puff no ****! and somehow i'm gone like there was no magic act
oh how i'd wish for this earth to swallow me how i've grown and maybe understand women through that little tickle and then downing myself with ******* today i managed to **** a ***** from a **** honestly i just tweaked my fingers on a semi limp **** and i ******* lazily into my underwear and the stuff of life soon clotted and all fluid glue associations shrunk and it felt like the botanical world of talking trees didn't realise anything about the existence of mushrooms and that fungus is not exactly a botanical leech parasite i mean a turnip is not a fungus is not a mistletoe is what i missed when towing mist and le and ole and it just needs to feel like a conversation of consolations and it can't just be a babe screetching on the other end of the telephone and me trying to compliment and reward her face because that's what she's primarily concerned with: her face as i was somewhat too because of my double chin or whatever and me using a beard as a contortion feature not a tool since the face uses it and not the hands it can't be called a tool but a feature since the face like hands does many things and it's the work of hefty crowd management techniques that disparage me from the service provided at retail shops where things are sold yet but this is premeditated i'm going to have a good time mentality of spending money in advance this industry concerns itself with CREDITORS and not DEBTORS we entertain creditors - not by how they spent the money but how they spent the money in advance to be there: dasein - which is so far removed from what Heidegger might have implied in the airs of the Black Forest in complete dissociation from throngs and the bellows of Behemoth o the pangs of the hundebeiarbeiten - the talk of police dogs you have to see it the talk of police horses you have to see it up close and personal and you have to **** the ego and experience of the body of id in all its glory constipated, tired, hungry, wet, cold, hot, angry, stupid, angry, stupid you have to shut off all narrative and so many people in this Wembley-Mecca this trance like mantra of a h'um dl'um ah'um dl'um - indeed that apostrophe could be indeed judged as the letter Y'od Yyod why-yod of the wide ought and then hide the letters GH and instead OH'T... like you write the letters but hide their sounds in Gloucester asked me this guy Andrews who works with the Nigerian Sunday (his name, Monday Monday, literary scene had a Friday) Andrews is Ghanaian and he's fresh i mean he's not what one could call descended from slaves honestly you get to pick up the African original the african original pride and love for life not this stench of post-colonial dread of: jeez still living with these former slave owners and ooh come on why didn't we go back to Africa and why are the old Africans coming to Europe to tease us or whatever spiraling with stadium concerts calling for Africa Unite blah blah semi Black ****** also comes with Black Jesus... don't ask me how but honestly Black Jesus comes with Black ******...
Abu Dribble i feel like escaping into naked lunch rather not fascination with Arab historiology from the 10th century or a German thinker... although i must know that if dog in german is hund pies in ****** then horse in english a koń in polish means horse in german is...herseh? no... the diacritical mark doesn't help no room for transliteration like in semitic languages between 'rab and Heb'
what is horse in german? d'uh!
pferdbeiarbeiten...
not the sort of horses i swear are we the last people to work as humans with animals are we the last stronghold we are not Bukowski genius to drink and read sparingly the postman i mean we are not farmers because farmers no longer use animals to work instead i mean: are we the last professions on this planet to work with animals i love working with animals so much so that i'm petting one on the side if i were to take a cat into the life cycle of a dog or a horse we breed these animals for a purpose
have you ever worked with horses and dogs in a crowd management environment it's like double the high of being high at a concert when you come back from work and unwind and have the side project to write down everything bubbling to the boil in your head your ego-death and then the ego-resurrection with a concentrated focus on narrative that requires it to be written down rather than aired / thought
and then release like a sling with no shot just the snap of the sling against the skin to wake up
KREISEL
kreisel...
spinning top is not even a word... it's a worded ideogram... without an actual ideogram SPNNNGTP looks better... best to have that printed and framed and advertised...
Bączek... well then... my neighbour brought me one of those in a 50p bag of goodies... there was that and there was blowing bubble machinery i don't know does she think me ******* or happy or did i come to the fore of children at large events and i was authority and i was benevolence and i'm still thinking of the jobs that make humans interact with animals and i know it's not in farming as such especially when pig farming i mean farming with plow and not plough or maybe the two are not that far apart because this is not the sort of euphoria experienced at an event this is a private euphoria and not simply of just being there... i.e. the opposite of Dasein the opposite of Dasein is Seinda - being there i.e. a place an event a polity a necropolis is by far the best strain flex and then thrown into this disarray of fates and omens and ills of people since now even these people venture out in the full abode of sky... wheelchairs and scissors and schizoids...
i said i need to write this is not a novel if anything this is also not Zukofsky's A because by god that looks good on paper but not in that voice since i'm thinking that's the last masquerade but still the impetus to write and why not record with Charlie but then Charlie etc was also in the same circumstance as me or then sober does it: great parody of the formal in whatever order of magnitude - yes those wax eyes wore off and then night came and i toked some more and not to excess in drinking i obeyed t.v. rules for half an hour but then the show was so disastrous that the only thing i was looking at was laila rouass and thinking of my woman and yes he's 48 and she's 52 and i'm pretty sure Edie wants to make it adamantly so that there's that tease of ******* in that she's 55 and i'm 38 and she's still not sure what in what the hell would that mean when the ages shrink and then there's also the age disparity between the other forbidden love of necrophilia and that's not really as prominent in society as ******* well who knows the statistics show...
but at least now: silence... i have not given excuses but pointers as to what i also do: alias no alias persona non grata should i fly above the aqua politik - sieve through this spectacular advent of man this spectacular celebration because honest to god and winter months apart there is this air of celebration in man with the obvious hags and anchors and drags from the past but still the perserverence is there to mindlessly go forward without any static of but one universe instead so many others to come should this only be one experience i doubt there might be more with brain-deaths and heartaches
brain-labyrinths and loud-libraries or those pirates - the pigeons at Baker Street... some travel as far as Amersham and Chesham on the Metropolitan Line for their holidays from the city you can see them on the trains anchored coming into the carriages looking for pecking orders... and then as the train speeds on tracks they fly about less like bothersome flies but as frightened animals: that they are...