should i sooth my ego: even though i don't really
think: i have one?
it is tired of claiming an i:
an i disappears in a crowd:
there's an it that can be spoken of:
but it is only spoken of as a disappearing act...
perhaps managing 100 people
is very much unlike supervising 10 people:
managing 100 people is entrusting
them in capsules of their own competence
an individual as a noumenon:
a thing-in-itself...
people: as a phenomenon...
philosophy in the work place:
i ingested plenty of hyperbolic fiction music
to contemplate
how i was offered this position:
hardly on the sly... someone ****** up
and i was drafted in to be a Quadrant Manager
on Level 1 at Wembley...
ah! my playing field! psychological testing
ground: like landing on the moon:
instead an alien format: an other: self-dismissive
being dropped into a cohort that's sole purpose
is to organize a crowd to enjoy a sport event
peacefully...
last night i had phantasmagorical injections
into my brain from the lived-experience...
it refreshed my sense of existence
a bit like when i first came to England
without knowledge of the tongue:
as they say in the para-Olympic sense
of a joke:
****'s sake ha ha: cut the legs and arms
off: throw the ******* torso into the water
and start the motivational chant of: swim...
swim! swim! almost with a sparrow-like
cheeriness...
i'm starting to see familiar faces
although: i'm the familiar face:
i don't recognize any of these faces
but they seem to recognize me...

just recently we lost a freak of a coworker:
13 years of experience in stewarding
and yet: no progression...
i'm actually glad he's dead:
i'm glad because he was like a Christ:
he actually allowed for the world
to take its revenge on him
but there was no revenge:
just bad luck or whatever:
regardless:
he was a hero-loser...
in that he allowed his idiosyncratic ways
to flourish in him:
had weird mannerisms and bad hygiene
habits: i can't blame him for being
poor...
but at least he wasn't a militant-loser
in the vein of Islam...
although i don't know what Anders Breivik
was:
dude was a ******* paramilitary anti-spy...
the intelligence of the man
and the amount of diligent rigor...
one man army...
i find no phobia when it comes to seeking
perfection...
and that has to be admired:
because... we are... reduced to... admiring:
what? celebrity culture?!
hawk tua girls?!
we want to admire the Lebanese botox babes
of attention *******?
why can't the Nazis be wondered:
fair play: the chimneys are not the pyramids...
but for some vapid gruel:
some confiscation of the lineage of language:
now that i've had the pleasure
of managing 100 people...
and i started so basic on the cordon
at gate 3 ensuring that no bags larger than
A4 would come from the cracks...
started there...
and i was just so silent:
i don't envision a career in security any time
soon:
but my great-grandfather ended up
being a security guard at a kindergarten
and that's where my first memory comes
from:
him as a shadow:
playing a piano while putting me
on the floor and giving me a toy piano
and that's when Liszt and Chopin
performed a duet...
before that? oh you know: war and ****...
working around that:
started off with a horse and carriage
distributing lemonade:
and when coffee first arrived:
people didn't know what to do with that ****
so they dumped the beans into the river
since they they not used to coffee:
only tea from Asia...
but i'm walking in his footsteps...

what does: having 100 people under me:
feel like...
well there's certainly no room to think
about it:
perfectly muddled:
for all i know i missed the three tier
register...
so first the company rep signs them in...
then the stadium at the turnstiles
sign them in:
then they are signed in at the position:
which i was supposed to be managing:
great start...
but i'm not such a technology Ludite:
**** it **** it ****! Luddite!
there! no red?!

                  so i was keeping the arithmetic
with my six supervisors
and all girlish like at virginity being lost:
oh help me: help me:
give me clues give me cues...
time to play innocent:
and once you figure out psychologies
and temperaments:
you can get a momentum going...
oh **** me this is psychology outside
of the classroom:
this is psychology on its own terms:
mine? do i have i to have any?

during the shift:
quebec one two can you please head
over to turnstile M to speak to Abigail
there's been some...
... ch' ch' ch'... ******* crackling...
half baked messages...
yeah: but i'm only doing turnstiles A B C...
why the **** do you need me
at turnstile M?
you said outside? i'm covering inside...
so i get to turnstile M
nothing there...
******* phantom idea...
as i walk back to my area...
who do i see... a celebrity by all accounts...

Sir Mark Rowley...
and his entourage...
   so i walk past and i'm scratching my head:
i've constantly being surveyed:
i don't mind it even a little
i'm a transparent creature
i now understand why males
in positions of power / authority could
enjoy a cuckold shift in power dynamic:
slightly pushing it... but i know where it comes
from...

take away from KAT MARIE...
watching my stacked wife *** on another
man's **** - touch my wife...

it's pushing it: i don't think this happens
in real life:
what probably happens in real life
is akin to Chuck Rhodes and his ****
******* vibe of being domineered
as a release from exerting authority:
and that's what i needed to relax to:
it's not satisfying to claim to have:
a creative outlet to manage 100 people:
supervise 30... but then there's managing 100...
maybe if i worked in retail:
i'd think i could have a better work-as-working
orientation:
since i started in construction
all other jobs have been rather...
Picasso... you know:
i'm not producing anything...
in a hunter gathered society:
so many genocides...
maybe i'm dismissive of the work i do
because i see so many people perform
the job so poorly:

point being! trouble starts in a quarter of an area
within the posit of a first potential ejection:
one happened peacefully
at the turnstiles: over a nugget of marijuana
and a roller to scrub the **** to a pill
to be sprinkled...
the fella left amusingly blessed with no scuffle...
see: now i understand the Labor Government:
Labor is Authoritarianism in England:
Conservatives are Liberals!
i'm starting to ******* love it!

i'm a creative spirit in public:
i'll write my fiasco: but i don't necessarily
blast it to the public:
it's something for individuals with enough
public scrutiny to appreciate:
but... the second coming of a Labor Government
since... that other: ******* fiasco...
and i'm kinda liking it:
in order to contain people:
i like the current Labor stance on policing...
if it starts with riots:
then what happens to other policing problems?
did policing suddenly get its mojo back?

Labor is Authoritarian: Labor is: Authors of
our won Fate: as the people: of England...
who are the Conservatives?
we are the Conservation attaches of project
beyond our concerns just so the middle
classes don't scoff... what is Conservatism?
i understand what Labor is:
it is authority: of authorship...
a bit like literature:
what are the conservatives these days?
clamor ******* ***** of sputnik
and i.o.u. of fish and chips on a Friday
and roast beef on a Sunday
what the **** did these conservatives "think":
oh wait... they didn't... hence the "claws"...

Labor begins with the police force:
i get a trickle of the purifying sensation:
it's not a career...
it will be a career if i get out of these *******
high viz jackets...
up to now i'm making lazy progressions:
but i have poetry on the side that
i don't want to make a spectacle of:
like Leibniz to my intuition
and Newton to my aversion to ambition...
oh god: Newton sacrificed his intuition
and probably more...
because he was an ambitious man
and social standing took precedence over
his original intentions:
his sexuality was probably involved:
suppose i shove a **** up your ***
and it comes out the tongue of the other:
rarely does it happen
that i shove my **** up a woman's ******
and i hear myself talking back to me:

Kauai offers no solutions:
only problems...
i have yet to hear her listen to and allow
me to speak of my problems...
we crossed the Rubicon of taboos
and non-taboos...
but... it's such an unfair supposition
to keep me in this prison:
but when a 50+ woman allows
you to gain experience...
you don't exactly start looking at 19 year girls
with a fetish...
although i have one curiosity to mind...

THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO
BE THE POEM I WAS THINKING OF!
THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO
BE THE POEM I WAS THINKING OF!

since yesterday
i have been filled with such subtleties of human
understanding that
it beggars belief whether or not language
is the pivotal motive, motif:
of how we speak:
overtly: language... yes...
but i just can't write about how else
i was communicated with...
writing this junk on a piece of paper is one
thing:
but experiencing the tides of subtleties...
nuances...
no poem can capture a lived experience:
no poem can capture a lived experience
in the hyperbolic realm...
i can drink some more...
smoke a little... then return to this canvas
and bleed it some more...
but that would be like:
killing a cow once...
getting the meat:
and instead of cooking the beef to
a medium rare perfection:
making a ******* Sunday roast out of it!
all dry and itchy on the teeth:
since you want the succulent blood to run
and sooth the saliva while you chew...

100 people: it's not a poet's monologue
on the stage... i'm not performing:
i'm: not even talking...
i'm insinuating...
i'm sorry: language, abstract, mathematics...
we were talking but on such a multifaceted
level: there were keys involved:
ghost agitated inanimate objects:
things got broken...
by "ghosts"... i ended up being a locksmith
at turnstile A...
so... writing poetry at this time?
yeah: well... if you work with a lot of people
and organize them... manage them:
watching t.v. is not going to be your outlet
of choice: nor is playing a lot of video
games...
but using your vocab... to catch yourself stuttering:
i slur from time to time
and i do waggle my tongue when word-tied
not tongue tied since bilingualism
involves two brains and only one tongue...
but that's that...

                  i had better private dreams....
image-words have no place here...
and i dream using image-words...
implying the words available are sounds:
wounds inflicted by daggers of skeletal precision
against some affluence of the deity
of a face represented without: the woo or wiggle...
but can you see wiggle or woo
as an image? or is it just a word...
so where do i find my image-words?
i'm not saying imagine...
                           that'a a different type of genius /
genie...
                oh a bad spelling
in terms of the image-word gives me nightmares:
beginning with:
onomatopoeia... but i don't even know
that sequence of letters as sounds when
transcript into letters:
i know that word not by the sound
but by the rhythm of me tapping the QWERTY...
onomatopoeia...
how i arrange my hands... and then utilize
my fingers: 2 hands 10 fingers...
and whoever uses QWERTY and doesn't
utilize either pink or thumb while doing so:
well...             not going to judge:
but even in the old movies when you saw
typewriters:
you hardly ever saw them using
either pink or thumb fingers since the clavishes
were so rigid that you required
the index, middle and ring fingers...
modern typing does require you the imagination
to use the pinky and the thumb...

not the poem i was expecting.