halfway through the chores
and i'm leaving the toilet to last

so now i know,
though,
when my loathing
no... not loathing:
loathing the algorithm
some variation of counter AI
blockage on the synthesis
parameters dire
so choice of music
gone
no spin me right round
on a youtube carousel

perhaps not Falstaff or ****
like high art
like high german is to english
or even swiss
but that was some mighty
interrogation
by that Swiss cowboy
i have to admit
that was...

we went to the moon to have an argument
about a bus ticket
and i did say to him:
isn't a stadium ticket like a bus ticket
and yet this is not a concert mate
so i can't allow you
if it was a concert
i would have said yes
but this is a sporting event so that's
so ******* dumb
people come sometimes
at the last hour
with their children
and we can be lenient like that
as security officers
imagine a police officer's poem
or an SS-man's poem
like that scene when one of them
is trying to block out the horror
and remain calm
because that's not a Bach's Mozart
or a Mozart's Bach sort of joke
when the anthropology of time
questions influences and timelines
as to who influenced who
or could have in re-verse....

by 3pm i will wearing my walking shoes
and heading to the forest
to knock on wood:
turn a few trees into secret doorways...
or something like that.