in the memory bank of a jellyfish:
that little microcosm of life
per se

this undisturbed avenue in evolution
kindness
electric pulse
in aqua

light travelling in no stretch
of posit
an origin E = MC (speed of light cubed,
speed of light cubed
speed of light cubed
as static, posit,
speed of light cubed,
evidently this implies
the other two letters being changed
but if there's an equation with
the speed of light squared
then there must be an equation
with the speed of light cubed...
if there isn't: or there never will be
an equation with a:    "E=M"C³

        regardless of ENERGY and MASS
but there has to be an equation
with a C³... the speed of light cubed...
if there isn't one
i'll call it yet another Dead End of Darwinism:
then clearly our intellect has
no evolved to compete
with the Insect Lady and her Talking Mushroom
Lamp...
or the Dinosaur grandiosity
brought down to lizard and bird continuity
it's as if there was no meteorite
just the ******* madness of the moo! moo!
moooooooon and seas and tides!

lost the plot of emoji and "forgot"
to place it on canvas:

thinking aloud painting
that's what poetry is
i need those symbols

like the Star of David and the *******
those drool assigns
i have

             tick tock... tick tock:
  
    卍 (tilt: // to the side: clock! clock! twist!)
because i need a reference for:
     Schläfli symbol...
                   a hexagram is not the star of david
a hexagram is not the star of david
tilt the star of david and i'll show you
a hexagram:
an opened book
and reading on a square of camel hind
in a desert
wish there were stones in a desert
and mountains
but poor me thought the deserts
were missing hills so raised mountains
blindly following love
and all purpose throughout meaning
of this shared earth: hearth...

                    at least one H in the equation
if seriously:
all these Jews want to remain post-genocidal
insecure about what's no longer
mysterious then we can flood
Europe with as much post-colonial hangovers:

but i swear: the downer comes
with: but i am stronger and of more prided
intellect than others
and for no fault of my own
am i to tell my father: hey! you!
yes! you! colonialist!
*******! **** the right: off!

         obviously the war in Ukraine
is not of the English persuasion of concern
those lax dods and sods of the "intellectual"
class not kings
not the privy council the lazy liberal ****-whats
i mean those newspaper folk
those scribblers and cobbler-wannabes
i mean those bunch of people
how mammalian flesh alight in the heat of
an argument...

smoked a joint that's marijuana
and tobacco
drank a shy whiskey sharpshooter
that's 2:1
of whiskey to coca coca
cola the ancient Indians of Paraguay
are talking
about La Bambino Bamba

in an "alternative" reality there is a journalistic
script that says:
the Euros 2024 did happen
and i saw a populism in motion
in nothing like an echo chamber
can't make the Coliseum into an Internet
Meme Echo Chamber
have to be real bro: shitz hyphen and *****
twitch at the ***** erotica of
a volcano

in an age where homosexuality is
as the supposed degeneracy of cis fibric
frombosis: phrombosis: thrombosis:

F: Fulvark: hawk: bee: buddha:
fly...
the German police were imploring
the English fans to smoke a joint
rather than drink too much beer
hey! mate! license or no t.v.
your superstars only won
a sly / shy

victory over the moon and the mood
of the Serbs:
like the victors France against
the AXIS power of the Eastern *****
and i believe
that Nietzsche a German
was adamant about what the Germans
did to the Prussians
and what the "elsewhere" didn't do
about the Estonians and the Finns
and the Lithuanians

just saying: France superstar also won
a minor victory just
a one nil
against the Eastern *****:
the Austrians are the only people
known to the Slavic people west of the Oder
and i implore you to not justify
that Darwinism has dead ends
if this supposed fixation on evolution
and then the geniuses that brought
down Pluto
i can't contest intellectual prowess to keep
feeling less and less amazed
less and less and less in awe
i just think about bread
oh and dough
and yeast
and i think: i think that i think, i think...
my soul is shattered
i have no internal breath of a coherent narrative
the German police implored the English
football fans to not altricate: articulate
the budding Serb hunger for violence
this amazing South *****
of Yugoslavia
and big boy language: i have a hairy chest...

POWER IS BLACK
POWER IS THEN GRAVITY OF NOTHING
yes, not the: that's not a misspelling
but a continuation in CApital:
power is that a drawing nearness of death
prior: impediment

in the memory bank of jellyfish:
bells of eternity - a dream of a song
of actually enjoying music
like some telekinetic hypothesis of an itchy brain
whereby a Mushroom donning a Venetian
Carnival Mask
is playing me primitive... "tunes"...
the jellyfish and perhaps our organic history
stretches into the dinosaur realm
of existence
that felt because HAD endoskeletons
but the dinosaurs didn't die
but evolved into miniatures of birds
and great hawks
and our mammal father the WHALE

but as i was smoking and drinking
an unlikely companion:
i never thought flies to be nocturnal insects
but there's always one
super-freak Beelzebub Bob and my pierced
ego my pride like a flickering light
a honing of an idea to another idea

but even if this earth once entertained
giant insects
and talking mushrooms
mammals and reptiles are pretty good
for extending our consciousness
i'm talking pre Bible imagination
much further
from Dinosaurs
that became birds
Holiest of All the Crows of Odin
and the Swans of Athena...

there was a time of giant insects
and giant insect brains
or rather the microcosm organic history
a history of body
not of stone

then i wandered outside the garden of Eden
into the Land of Ende (no, not Ened)
there's already the Den of Ned the Flander
in some Simpson
O what dark day i imagined
myself with a child watching Sunday afternoon
t.v. not able to trip out
with a scribble with a doodle not hallucinogenics
please
this ardent father

so i wish to become

so in a time of fervent homosexual pride
me loving a single mum of 55
no better *** than menopausal love
no seriously just watched how people
ugh: flake under the puppet skeleton
some flesh of 16 year old ******* proofs of
*** that are girls:

with enough perspective of time
i can speak concerning being:
there are just too many dead ends in the theory
of evolution!
you can't see the evolution of a spider
into a over-spider of an ant...
i must have brought in at least five this week
walking through the garden
they hitchhiked on my ears
into a death surface reality of moon
walking on a toothbrush and a sink
not Schindler's bread and butter emanel:
Immanuel Immanaeul:
You'll...             You'll...        and You'll Do This...

a serpent uncurled from around
the tree of knowledge
and having given birth to the fruit
in an insomnia of winding
and travelling from start to star
wriggled forward in time
ate Sisyphus
and started to clutter with a Hieroglyphs and
Chisel:

but those talking mushrooms
and giant insects would leave no traces
except for the moisture in the air
not like dinosaurs and pressed hard
black olive oil of locomotion
but instead
from such a harsh environment
with salt for water in the seas
these creatures left us
breathable air!
Nitrogen in abundance
but only enough sanity for 20% of air...

pre-dinosaur times...
   if we're going as far back as beginning
the universe...
religion can't compete, unless:
it get's a psychedelic booster JAB...
a language usage imprint
of said USER working with AI...

but if we are really going that far back:
i can look away from
belittling humanity as the currency
of NOW:
there is a currency of NOW: realistic interaction
there's the currency of ONCE:
there's the currency of IF
and the currency of...

       evidently too much Joyce... just thinking:
maybe aloud...
but certainly tripping on alcohol and marijuna
and before i die
and i'm at the stage of two hydro-cells on the brain
like Martin's like two watery
eyes
then i will create an advent of mushroom
tripping
and open my other 2 and 4
of seeing
since the eyes are an *****
unthinkable before kidney failure
or to think of eyes
are nostrils because there are 2
to think of the mouth as eyes: sensationally...
preposterous...

     ugh... but before the Dinosaurs
there were the talking mushroom overlords
and insect people
who left no skeleton proof
because they had mush inside and strength
outside
         so just the moisture in the eye
and time capsules messages
they left us hallucinogenic mushrooms
to travel back in time
past the eons of admiring those unlucky sods
the reptiles that weren't given slack
like Satan
because from dinosaurs to birds
couldn't devolve from short T-Rex hands
big mumma FI thyes thyme black girl running
so the bible is a word
from the reptiles via the mammals to
the insects and talking mushrooms
we got hit by a meteor!

           those ape mummies are toiletry
such idiots
chaos ensues no natural set order
this will not continue i'm sure of it
how warm the intellect
but what if lizard people had a chance
to boil water in a kettle... too!
but we are just their locomotive juice
to ******* UBER their groceries
from 100 meters away!

there are dead ends in Darwinism
just to clarify
thanks for collecting all the species
but let's put the Lament Configuration
back together:
these are: dead ends... don't you think?
will an ant evolve into a super ant?
will man evolve into a superman?
will humanity ever congregate at a major
sporting event as a count
of individuals or as a disintegration
of rigid formula that might disqualify
an ethnocentric identification process:
of evolutionary scrutiny
of not seeing the details in bedtime stories
something to scare the children with?

dead ends: static: evolution is not exactly
dynamic:
it's a Dead Science...
biology is as much a study of stones
in the miasma of mountain
but still minerals in the blood
and the pulling and pushing apart: toward
a together...

happiest so: alone...
regressing: so my love is bad but two
men and a third by himself
crossdressing to X his mother
and that's mammalian grip is
insufferable
but if history begins with volcanoes
and Dinosaurs
maybe i don't want to think about
a shortcut via the Sumerians
because: apart from the Egyptian
phonetic encoding
sharing Europe with Africans
is like: calling the Neighbors of the Continent:
Slavs the stupid Inquisitors of Communism
of Yiddish Intellect
not Hebrew not Israeli
maybe the Bilingual Monstrosities of the Yids
had to be stamped out
for the raising of Israel...
maybe? don't you think?

well it would certainly help some
countries to get on the Bilingual Ladder
like it would be great
for America to become a Bilingual Nation
a grander Switzerland
a bigger Canada
a marriage of Spanish and English
would only cement a superpower
while we could have a marriage
of the Slavs with the Germans
since the French and Especially the English
have outright rejected the Germans
at least the Austrians could soften the blow
and i could too...

my my how i love using such big words
relating to people
but mind you i was hypervigilant
on the point of paranoia
at the Champions League Final
talking to German Secret Police
at Wembley...

and that's a true story
i was also outside the one talking to youths
when the cordon on Spanish Steps
was put on by the bettered
coordination of Police with Security
Staff...
the soft police can you imagine
a police officer writing a poem,
would anyone read it?
perhaps thinking about the Club of Fetishes -
some time to relax
but i just want vanilla and juicy
and plump of plumb...

that's my girl: right there...
and like a ******* at a gay pride parade
let me do my:
Uncle Paradiso:
          Sam Smith'oh Unholy:
in the vinyl store i just heard: BAHBYHLON:

mommy don't know...
yeah: i was at the "£ body shop £"
paid £130 for giving a 20 year old
Romanian ******* a massage
after she was spanked to a glitter of blueberry
on the *** with rough love rough love
lion love i am the crab: pick up
soft spoons soft metal

happy to ******* a priest...
happy to ******* a priest...
happy to make a priest a Hashem: Kosher: Halal...
happy to make a priest a kosher
ooze: then some SALT!

salz salz! and the piper of pepper!
salz salz! and the piper of pepper!

ich suenge gerne huebschen sanc
i would not sing no song
no praise no tales of others:
justify my own adventure
of life's teeming ways
    and unjustified clamor of feelings...

        from the onset i can testify:
i'm just as ****** up as anyone
who's anyone and anyone who's no one:

don't pity me
this little stupid me
this poor little stupid me

das arm wenig dumm mich

i'm no master manipulator
i don't exactly know what i want
perhaps that's because i want so little
this little me wants so little
to drown in shrinking
to shrink and falter and shrink
and falter

asking my mother what is love
when her love is
just a constrictive riddle and a stressor
to owning
my heart for my heart to no other woman
O

         round and round the sun rises
and sets
night comes with an entourage of nightmares
and stomach cramps
and with that the body dictates
what is right and what is wrong

i don't care for intellect and intellectualizing
ethics
not from the mind but from the heart
i know what's right...

bargaining on philosophy:
a Kantian quadratic
of a priori and a posteriori
analytical and synthetic -
i've heard one is impossible

but not for the sake of knowledge
but for the sake of judgement
i much prefer the taste of sound judgement
than knowledge
hyper-fantastical non-applicable
talk of astronomers and what is
the buoyancy of the universe
suspended on a rotating disk on a camel's ****

like threading through eyes
of needle some bollocking of string theory
and i thought i'd escape all that
wasted childhood on how people educate
people
churning out people incapable of
changing a light bulb or
throwing a perfectly good appliance out
simply because the fuse in the socket
burned out...

          last time i asked my mother about
love i was 21 and i paid
over 15 years in hell
and in this hell i met god as a great wind
whirling and dispersing a choir
of singing entities
and restless ever since
i cannot compensate this riddle like
protection or the Guard of Mammon
i can't claim a reality
but since reality began disintegrating
around me
no manner or amount of psychiatric
scrutiny would endow me with
my original: solipsistic narrative of dimmed
sight...

but when it comes to manipulation:
oh yes, stay in London: the Window to the World
or don't: stay in St. Petersburg
and watch Europe: the funnel of the world
instead
or not: either -
but don't move to Kauai and become caged
not to some 55 year old woman
with a child
and an aging mother: remember i'm your
mother and i'm aging too
now that i'm this reborn Ms *******
Florence Nightingale
and i have a puppet of a brother dependent
on me kissing me gently
all our former animosity fizzled out
or that i won't be able to forgive my
own mother on her deathbed

so love is this unreasonable force?
i've witnessed a second hell
less energizing than the former
like a plateau of stones
but no hill
unlike the punishment of Sisyphus
no upheaval no single stone
to drag up a hill
but instead this plateau of rubble
and i'm here: bound to the chains of
unimaginative torturing
of self - by self...
a love like gravity a love most damning
because of the vicinity of reality
while all around me: in no special way
new atheism dies
and i'm tickled by being a proselyte
toward: having found "conversion" impossible
toward the Hebrew ways
something Islamic is smiling at me
but then the Islamic peasants like
their Christian counterparts come swarming
with bad manners
and perhaps not drunk on the furor of football
but still ill mannered
and all the bliss and intellectual comforts
of glancing past the primordial ontological
focus on man
disappears:

master manipulator my ***!
all i said was - and i was adamant about it...
'but what's the point of me visiting you
on Kauai if i have to rent and
drop pennies into the pockets of your friend
why can't i just stay with you
and instead of having rent money
i buy a ******* canoe or maybe two
and you me and Reyla
have a fun time exploring all the rivers
on that island the size of London
why don't i just better use the money
and you really think that...
we're already sleeping together
you made that adamantly clear
when dis-inhibited moaning in the hot tub
i'm seriously have a hissing fit
i have never experienced froth on my phallus
because i tried cheating
but instead i paid £130 for massaging
a *******'s bruised *** and calves and
that bit above the calves:
she didn't even have the knowledge
to **** off a ***** that hasn't been circumcised
and i know my body as i know you
and your body knows me
and i just hear this nagging realism
of mother saying: oh but you can talk
to me,
remember in ten years time she'll be 65
and you'll be in your 40s
and then widower...
well marriage and the Green Card
while you watch all those hungry Mexicans
not giving a **** still storming the border
and in any nightmare
the plummeting contention for ordinary
people to breed
bus driver replacements
and who's to say what's going to be automated
and jeez:

         and and and this is not a pretty verse
it's not supposed to be
but finally your mother reached out
because you were probably crying
and now you became the little girl
to your little girl and it finally sank in
that i'll buy a ticket the next day
and come and cuddle and *******
but i'm not paying rent when i can just
sleep on your lanai like a dog
but serious how can your mother think
that she lived her life full of frolic and
now makes it impossible for me
to rearrange your life a little
by being able to drag your daughter out
of your bedroom where she slept
with you
oh god that felt so good
dragging that mattress from your friend's
abode to your daughter's room
and setting up the bed for her
like a Jesus but unlike a Jesus
the choking joke being: well:
if can't find a crucifix to tackle and take
to Golgotha at least find a mattress to take
it up to a girl's bedroom
and then pray, pray for some **** antics
because i was the: huh? sort of looks
****** but perfectly salient
in my approach baking that 13 candle birthday cake
and right now
i was actually storming around my head
(without a head to speak of)
doing ego-juggling-with-eggs
because i heard enough public intellectualism
in English to know that people
get muddied in muddles of the performance
art of seeming confident and clued in
and with the number of books i read
myself i'm choking with disbelief at the gad
of these people having read so little
yet able to talk so much!"

love arrives outside the realm of knowledge...
i'm seeking judgement
i much prefer to orientate myself
around judgement rather than knowledge:
regardless of knowing:
knowledge becomes trivial and automated
when contending away from intellect
and ethics: spoken of
but not felt...

the knowledge of riding a bicycle
and the knowledge of swimming
the knowledge of walking
much better than questing for... blah blah
analytical a priori: 2 + 2 = 5?
given that 2 + 2 = 4...
        2 + 2 = 5? only because there was no actual
origin of numbers in Hindu or Arab
benefactors given that: if you look closely:

   2 + 2 = 5?  
                             Z + Z = S

no? it's ******* clear as daylight this is impossibly
love since it hurts because
it's not somehow defunct, devoid:
leftover scrap of makeshift food stuff divination
no wine and bread cannibalism
such loser poetics as an interlude with
a Swiss master of Cheese alluded to
when his case was presented
about using one ticket twice
to catch a metaphorical bus to a metaphorical
end of journey that was the moon
but not the stadium:

    if only it was a music event and not a sport
event...

now Edie is emailing me and i waited
in agony
for an email
thankfully i severed and ghosted her
but didn't: not really:
i was high and lonely and probably drunk
so for the next few days
i was sober and realized that i had a splinter
in my head
or like a horse with a grain of sand
in its ear started pounding at the wall
in vain trying to get it out the itch
was impossible
but now i feel alive once more
since your tears can be ascribed to:
but i can use that money for better purposes
than rent!
i can but a canoe i can at least
watch gleefully at you watching t.v.
and Reyla telling you to wake up
but i still love you snoring
and who cares
if by the time you're 65 i'll be in my 40s
and whatever that entails
but at least that's still 10 years
i will make up for the 15 or so years
my 20s and half of my 30s erased
for the pursuit of: **** know's what
now i'm supposed to make cleaning the house
a priority over writing this
and: ha! concerning writing...
well: if i were to find the semblance of effort
and care for outcome of readership
then yeah: dumb down and write
50 Shades of Grey
this literacy **** brigade is not for my liking
i will have to write the most unsatisfying
scribble for a Clued in Society of Anti-Marxists
or something
because that's how that one man's intellect
enabled the spearhead monstrosity of
how Slavic peoples congregated and left
shoes not walked in on magic carpets
then took to walking on stilts in Germanic
post-Imperial idealism...
broadly speaking: Germanic invoking
the disparity of ethnicity among the French
the English and the Germans and Scandinavians

i never understood why Denmark was
considered Scandinavian
given the past month of terrible weather
why is England even remotely considered
western when it actually should be
considered
a Scandinavian outpost
akin to Iceland why think of this place
as somehow this ideal western junction
oh god knows but i'm pretty sure
if i blah blah for long enough there will
be some clarifying justification for all this...

but it's finally sinking in...
terrible loath of me finally manages to find
the tears and knows it's love
but from previous experiences
i'm rough
and diamond but that's nothing special
but it just might be
if i get your mother to realize that we
are sleeping more sleeping
than sleeping this is ugly
             i feel uplifted i judged correctly
without knowledge
and you can judge correctly without
knowledge, per se:
when you ride a bicycle and reach
the summit of spacial-coordination
on two endoskeletons:
of one's own bones
and a bicycle frame

compared to the exoskeleton of a car
and it's just that use of mirror
and fail-safe mechanics...

clearly i don't intend to be smart
but rather: dumb dumb dumb
and i don't meet that with an air of superiority
i'm writing out of sheer desperation
and that doesn't bother me
in the slightest
once the early morning cramps
wriggled in i knew i was giving birth
to a daughter a lover a mother...

             the airy-fairy logistic of love
on paper
written O so sparingly
i would gladly bargain with a life in London
against a life in Kauai
and it wouldn't be a cage it would be a relief
because after finding her
it's not so much that i can find
another but becoming so attached
to the mint and pristine of licking
an envelope and sending whatever might
be enclosed to her

but i did delete all the explicit photographs
she sent me
i thought that was cheap of me
asking for such stuff
now, instead, i have a clean conscience
to start again
if i can be given another chance
to start and dream big
but only:

listen! i would gladly fly out to Kauai ****-naked:
in principle i will not be paying a
faking it we're ******* happy
i thought this was America
not some lost Polynesia outpost of tribal
morality
but if we're going down that route
who's to say that there need be a priest
and a church junction to finalize matters
when the "terrible" has already happened?

here writes: 𐰋‎ᛟ𐰉‎

          in Runic (at the middle)
and Orkhon either side

    just as my suspicions
concerning Gothic, script:
are not advantageous
for any foreseeable reason

other than:

   𐰢‎𐰀‎𐰦‎      (mant, like mann)

        to imply: man wrote this
ergo: by man: mant...

        i distrust the remains of Gothic
because of interaction
(perhaps) with the Romans
and the Greeks

   and i see some "unnecessary"
incisions
to make distinctions...

to say that Jacob Grimm envisioned
a gothic text as precursor
to the Greek text:

oh what's the use!
these words are only a passing by
not a conversation to be
had not words
to be engraved onto stone
the time of paper and stone
is passed
and there are foundations
to ensure everyone is comfortable
with an atom bomb's worth
of technology in their pocket
to somehow: not abuse it?

3 years divided up between
6 weeks on Kauai
with her 3 weeks in London
i was supposed to be somewhere
today:
Wembley... for the Capital FM
summertime festivity
oh god seeing this number of people
congregate
for music events all euphoric
but for sporting events so too euphoric
but measured
like there's a reason

woke up at 4am with a burden of cramps
in the abdomen...
i could blame a bad batch of sandwiches
as sold by certain supermarkerts
that might have spiced them with E. Coli
but then again i was dumb enough
to ignore my lactose intolerance
and drank some cow *****
in the night
with some Danish all butter biscuits

woke a second time ready for work
at 6am but cramps again:
crawled on all fours into my mother's
and father's bedroom and implored
mother to send a text to my wager:
these 0 hour contracts are a nuisance
how can you plan being sick
or not being sick
ahead of a shift
at least this was my first: blow-out
in 3 years...
i blew-out for the shift i didn't give
enough time for implementing changes
but i'm sure there are enough BODS
to fill an empty space
this industry is not rewarding
mind you not even this industry
so it's less about work itself and work in-itself
and the precursor to work:
that's life
i'm no machine and sometimes
the odd cramp of the abdomen
to give birth to nothing but an existential
dis-pain:
which is a negation of pain
if the physical realism subsides or is
enjoyed
but the mental: no scabs on the ego
no burning of the ego no cutting and bleeding
of the ego
just a disorganized luxury of what
would otherwise be a whoop'tee doo'dah
of narrative: lost...

     only this shrapnel i'm recovering...

then that other job description got to me:
i could be out of events industry
with one smooth application:
2 days per week
8 hour days
working as a security guard and receptionist
at the Royal College of Musicians
or whatever...
works around to £26,000 a year
so i could still do gigs on the side
but the application detail
stressed: EMPLOYING FROM
BLACK, ASIAN and LGBTQ+ LDTV
ULTRA VOX "minority"...
well... positive discrimination:
thankfully i had no former fathers
who were colonial masters, right?
WRONG!

i can tell apart a Nigerian from a Somali
and still understand that that's black on black
but when it comes to white
and -ness
and it's all ha ha from here:
because, weirdly enough:
i'm also the Holocaust maker
or perhaps my reading of history is so
pish poor that hey presto!

it's actually painful to think that
jobs are being currently advertised on
the basis of skin color and sexuality
then again i could pretend to be gay
i could be one of those covert
homosexuals
you don't actually realize are homosexuals
could have a William Burroughs
book in my pocket
but it would seem the stratification
of jobs
the menial ones go to the blacks the asians
and the gays
while plumbing and farming goes
to: inherited whiteness folk...

i knew i would be dragged into
race baiting and ****** politics of people
from elsewhere:
i still feel down about cutting the umbilical
chord with Edie
but in her own words:
we played house...
mother will never allow you to stay here
for holiday...
reality checker...
so why burden myself with having
invested 3 years and two encounters

oh but it became clear and not so
travelling on the train with:
i suppose 3 teachers on a night out
two blondes...
one trying to rub against me
and all the talk was comparative
literature to the Auschwitz trains
and it (the train) being: sardine packaging
and how there was a whiff of Indian
air
and yes i can understand that
over-saturation with the use of spices
but what got me down
was that tongue twister of:
drunk people in public
trying to savor the remnants of euphoria
and how the words:

little people little lives dampened
my mood
at the stadium at Tottenham
working with a Jamaican Muhammad
drunk white women
and this outright
scold: oh the ****** can come
but you're not tool enough...
that's like wow the jungle really has
a prized asset and now i don't wonder
why so much of this human interaction
cannot be genuine euphoria
or can be if it is hidden
and sometimes passed down in script
but for a day of supposedly being elsewhere:
if i was well enough
i would still be working for half an hour
more and getting the night buses home
but assured: i need to visit the hospital
mother to see my alter-ego
of media jargon superstitions
about some... "Norman Bates":
underclass of economics even this Swiss
whizz kid only understood poetry
in terms of WINNING or LOSING...

i think it comes with the population size
there's no need to write truths
and bottle them and gorge and digest
them there's no need to write
beautifully either...
coherently yes, but not so much
when this time round everyone is literate
and simply spoiled for choice
as to what is freely available
and....

         SRBIJA... old Serbia new Serbia
it really doesn't matter:
the southern Slavs were so much
different to the northern portion of the ethnicity
and you tend to forget that
former associations of Germanic
have long been lost
that last attempted to unite the Germanic
people under the *****
lasted 5 years but didn't
and even now the European Union
is not even equivalent to how long:
how did Marx influence the Slavic people
and made them into a Pan- contending force
to then export all: that's made to chi-cha-chu
land ahoy! Sinbad came
to Lu Hi and thought: but no Muhammad
so am i right to not be Muslim?

what was funny came around Whitechapel
this ginger Englishman
praying fervently concerning
enrichment
the policy of social health
allowing people off the train first
but ahead of him two Pakistani UNCLES
decided: that's now the case:
so in they clamored onto the train
making it more difficult for people to
get off: just so they could get their seats
and i think that's kinda of funny
given i'm an immigrant myself
but then again most Poles
didn't feel welcome in England
after joining the European Union
so they ****** off
and became replaced by a more
befitting Asian-Afro cocktail...
who? the Romanians!
oddly enough you'd be sightseeing
hummingbirds wanting to spot Bulgarians
in this London Dry Mix...

but i'm supposed to be in love with
humanity: no?
i just agree and nod and whatever
like: all's good Frankie: let's make a Stein!

i somehow feel for the native around
here but then i don't:
she, Edie... she knew i drank and smoked
marijuana
in the newspaper from yesterday
the German Politzei wanted
the English fans to smoke cannabis
rather than drink alcohol and who knows
maybe that was a marriage made in heaven
when both fans started booing each
other's anthems
clearly the air was tense
as a result Serbia 0, England 1...

you get to see Plato's Cave as a showcase
alternative to cinema and the t.v.
but it's good to watch a t.v. and think
of Plato's cave without really thinking
about the curtains of t.v. and the producers
and the staff that gets the show
going: no... simply you watching
something as grand as a sporting event...

no amount of whiskey or smoking
will alleviate my melancholic mood
my mood of wanting to erase memory
but in the pits
of melody of a singing crowd
and: oh those isolated instances
of humanity seeking benevolence from
fellow man:
i had the sinking heart of misdirecting
people
to dead ends...
not out of spite out of sheer
tiredness...

                and nothing but tiredness has
produced these words...
i will know soon enough if
i grappled with a purpose for this life
to be beyond any reasonable measure
of invested in it an ambition
a sanity
a want of specie societal differentiation
to grit down 70 years down
to a Mercedes Benz:
but somehow scuff at a Heinz can of beans
because: says so the caviar to me...
with an interlude looking
at a documentary concerning the
52 Hz whale...
  the loneliest ****** out there because his
frequency is not being communicated
to the neurotypical whales
and he's not getting honey...
of **** of jiggly **** and blubber...

                     and i'm finally concluding my own
failures...
last night...
walked past a few nightmare houses...
one of them spoke to me:
you will never live in a house
with a bedroom
where the woman has placed
a dressing table with a mirror in front
of the window...
just like i would never be a woman
who'd live in a house
with a man who parks his work
van in the front of the house
blocking all sunlight coming into
the living room...

    but hey! people do! people do!
which makes me in no way
special: i forgot about needing to feel
special or in high command of
individuation as: the western purpose for life's
fulfillment:
now i navigate using the compass:
the less people i hurt the better i will ****...
the less people are in my life
the better i will digest beef...
the more and others are passerby to each
other the more significant this glue of time
will be to dilute our each effort
to ensure we don't: cling to them with
a drowning man's resolve to grasp at
a blade's edge and bleed out
and become a feeding frenzy for:

dogs with gills... no... not sharks...
sharks have shark teeth
we need a blunt tearing off of flesh
via aqua canines
not sharks... verily not sharks.

I.

i struggle to find some alternative to her snoring and her moaning and her talking about magic numbers associated with keeping or reaching a perfect space in which to live, but i have to find alternatives...

Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

       a reading by Jordan (a) Peter's son:

sum: in Icelandic:
everyone's everybody or someone's ibin
a son of...

hereson boujeron...
did i: mishear that?

maybe my listening "skills"
are not up to scratch: whether vinyl
or liquirice
liquid not D but still
it's not Lick-a-Rish: reesh: reach!

envy of the stars...

liquirice... spelling mistake: underlined
in red...
liquorice... LIK-O-REESH...
reed?

            i much prefer fennel: seeds...
but i also know
that...
well: no surprises...

Roman cumin is standard cumin: "standard"...
but in the same way
Caraway Seeds are also categorized
as cumin (elsewhere):

pizza for dinner
and i "suffer" a suffering of this
doughy platitude that
doesn't: envelop the jaw to bite
for worth of bone, sinew, marrow slurp,
this dough like this sickness
borrowed from
the metaphor
whereby words become transfixations
to call wine blood
to call bread body
this is not what the Slavic atheists
envisioned as simply
necrophilia
but this is poetic cannibalism
what sick mind gives this envy
and mindless watered down soliloquy
not even St Boniface or Augustus

i write this as if waking up
to the simultaneous revelation of
both Auschwitz and Golgotha
equal in parody
this tender kept heave! heave!
i find not Euro-centrism in Christianity
therefore?
i can: clearly! disregard it as
something to curl and to tend to "shy intellects"
fervent ground: fertile ground
where Christianity should be
not a crutch on the spirit of the European
but a post-European dumping
ground
like... Africa... parts of China...
somewhere south in the tropics of Vietnam...
Africa (again)
south America:
and... north America...

i can't stand this cult of the "misplaced"...
"missing": cosmopolitan Messiah
this: no wandering in the desert for
40 years by god the Arabs and the Egyptians
are having a field day of
explaining who's who in the plagiarism of:
nobody to borrow or steal from...

so i was skim reading today's newspaper
and finally realized:
CLASS...
a hierarchy a society
not that i beg to differ
but so much of authoritative print
is based upon the middle-class
and their loss of cooing when pigeons
make authority of the sound...

so much CLASS: opinions i really have
no concern for...
in my little corner
i can sort of breathe an opinion off myself:

"decolonizing" the teaching of philosophy
disregarding Plato et al
as somehow "white":
like the Mediterranean curls and olive glistening
was: up to what point
will we conjure up "whiteness"
to say: oh hell yes! the Finns were the white
oppressors all along!

coming to terms with Anglo-Saxon
****** trivialities of
power-end submission-begin dynamics
like for me:

it wasn't enough to bed a 55 year old woman
to finally realize: in my 38th year
that somehow:
getting my rocks off at the prospect of
a 20 year old "body" who
punctuated *** with: pay-me-more
for: oral *** for the fingers slipping
into **** and guitar was
a saxophone's polyphony with trumpets
and trombones

and how those black men allowed
us to escape the rigidity of genius music
in score
in orchestra
with all that silence before the crescendos
so freely
this is some Jazz Musicians' Appreciation
Society?!

the Euros have started and i watched
Germany trash Scotland 5 - 1
but it wasn't just about watching
the football
that was in the background
like music like radio 4: BBC 4
i'm going through a breakup
and i'm cheating
with the workaholic me
the one that scribbles a tonne of words
with a search for some signets
in Katakana and Cuneiform
and Jesus
Jesus saying as much as he did
just doesn't cut it for me
i need a fire of intellect
and by simply nodding along
to those sayings
cages in on Kauai:
in London:
but not in Princeville.....................................

II.

am i such a bad man?
today i felt neuter good: atheistic less
and solipsistic more

i shoveled pebbles from one side
of the garden to the other
to make room for measurements
of garden furniture:
WIKLINOWE... the **** does that mean:
i so didn't want to hurt her
i made an SS-man incision
with a scalpel
and shared two videos
then the cutting words: THE END...
her religiosity got in her way
her kindness and femininity
a complex got in the way
her *** got in the say
and opened a many other ways
to see

am i a bad man?
i never cheated with her in the 4 years
long distance relationship
impossible to live
like that on DOPAMINE hits
the chemist in my ignored it for far
too long...
those were dopamine hits
having met on the Jesus Trek
i wondered: am i not riding my bicycle
that many times?

me mother and father were
actually woken up by a smell...
my female cat left us...
woken up by a smell:
not a sound...
a smell...
the **** blew the roof off and all
the rats turned into lizards...
i'll admit: some turned into cockroaches...
but then that was a far reaching
Apocalyptic B-movie B-Plan
of the vermin
i imagine a flag of central Europe:
i see four colors...

black
red
yellow
white

      yes: that's the flags of Germany, Poland
and the Vatican..

i feel like such a bad man
but today i felt normal:
i broke up with a girl and i spared myself
what i already knew:
she had a meeting with her friend
and her friend's friend some artist
from California
and i already knew:
but she prolonged
then she heard i was inheriting property
in Poland
and so she stuck around
for a bit longer
and the torture continued

and there was more Jesus than Christ
then someone broke in and starting
shouting: Immanuel!
Immanuel!
                
                    Isaiah: make me return among
this plagiarism: who the **** brings
a book into a forest?!
like who blings with: brings forth
a glass pane to the desert?!
i ask! i ask!

this is writing with interlude this is no
case for the Editorial High Priest
for this writing to reach the masses:
perhaps a few
out of what, i ask?

not out of difficulty?
i don't ask out of vanity
or snobbishness:

in the night i heard the words:

CO ROBISZ:

not: CO TY ROBISZ?

nor TY ROBISZ...

translation?

what (you) do       (beyond lost in translation:
a bilingual loss of translation,
translating into English from Polish
where there is less "shrapnel":
less conjunction not so frequent stress on
pronouns...

CO ROBISZ...

   what you do:

             because there was not question
asked by my father as i jumped
an inch quicker to send that cat ****
for examination in the sewers and picnics...

CO TY ROBISZ: yes:
the pronoun interrogative structure of sentence
even without a ? stressor at the end
would be just that: half asleep father with
burning nostrils like i...

TY ROBISZ: i sort of wish he said that
but by saying that
he would be implicit in deeming me a god:
but i am not: you (are) doing...

robienie would be the exactness of
doing...
since it is indefinitely placed in grammar:

ROBISZ is a DO- without an -ING
just like:
BJE could  be the antithesis word
from BE- within the confines of BEING
via -ING
but unlike the -ING of DO- and BE-
one can say that: stressed using the articles of
"atheism":

DO or NOT do...
either way: you're going to: BE!
to do and to be are: indefinite articles..
doing and being are: definite articles!

to do not to be
is doing is being
is not neither
not being and
not doing
but rather
either doing
and not-doing
or
being and
           not-being...

III.

have i left a daughter?
i would not have so many transcendental
euphoric experiences
of simply coming back from work
and acknowledging:
t.v. is acid
need the alkaline gangrene of
whiskey and marijuana
and day-dream come 11pm...

have i left a daughter?
i left a lover
and no amount of ****
will suffice but hell i know it now
and it's like horror movies
i now watch without being scared
so i watch *******
without being aroused
or trying to find paths to the stars...
learned it with intimacy
par excellence:

but i can't forgive her
the book: initiated like a Kantian
categorical imperative
like that wording somehow deafens
the blow
the turn the other cheek
i will never do
but am under sort of forced will:
not free will:
not enslaved will:
i am forced to: live this will...
from free will
to enslaved will
to forced will...

i turned the other cheek to Samir
not Kibsi
not Qarri
not... Samir-Saffar-Ali...

               i have been forced to muse:
to mule the alkaline and acids
the salts and the sugars
i am one carrot shy of a donkeys'
ride on a roller coaster...

                      21 years and i'm not counting:
perhaps that intelligence
deviation:
i explain it as:
been on the construction site for 40
years and didn't use ear guards of moth cloth
or worked in the events industry
as a security guard
and gone deaf from teenage screams
or listening to my headphones
with music from teenage me
almost shortening the switches:
man needs torture! torture!
make his ego come up with excerpts
coming and going
not a sleeper narrative:
i think i am i **** i eat i welcome
i pet i zoo i transgender i stink of glue...
i ergo i plus i minus i divide
i shave i live i outlive i ferment i create god

IV.

but this sharp sound in my head
from the word
whispered into my head via ear:
PIENIADZE: money...

oh but the devil can exist outside
the human world
allowed to be a shaman of shadow
and torrential rains! discipline!

watching too much ****
can make you forgot your original
wits and measures
of watching with disgust two
serpents:
two snails... mating: asexually
it would seem...
even now... the woodland pigeons
seem to be...           GANDU!

GANDU! gay: in Urdu...
sorry... this last work advert i saw stressed
that there are preferential ethnic characteristics
concerning a job role:

best be BLACK
ASIAN
NOT CHINESE
NOT RUSSIAN
BLACK AND ARAB
AND INDIAN AND URDU
BEST BE GAY TOO
TRANSGENDER NO
JUST LGBTQ+ queue too!

can't be white:
even German white is too white
so like German English
history is nothing
because oh i'm pretty sure
a Somali can joke
about Nigerians not hearing themselves
but then again
i'm just a white guy
with two Africans born of immigrants
and two immigrants
on the Bananas Bahamas..

this is the Royal Academy of Arts...
the job is simple...
£26,000 a year...
for... 16h worth of work over 2 days...
but...
Africans and Asians (not the Chinese,
of Japanese: didn't you know that Japanese
are ****?!) and GAYS...
#GIMPSFREEPALESTINE...

  so... not anyone necessarily competent
in faking and then flaking a smile?
no... none of that?
not anyone intelligent
just a racist mantra reignited
because if that **** has been
then let's return to the god of tribalism
and not any: withholding
god of the intellect when the Quran
was first scribbled down!

time for: herding the people...
it's an ugly prospect but
it's one that has been measured as occuring
countless times in history
without any real focus of entrapped
leverage of importance...

for weeks i thought myself this terrible man,
this...
ah.... but language and its own purposes
arrived and were left waiting
and i too waited: in steam and ferment
and the prospect
of a meteor
and i too decided: as *** the envious
parody of when is intellect to be envied
to be pardoned like a mutation

heart broken: heart mended:
heart broken: heart mended:

   hertz gebrochen: herz fest
   hertz gebrochen: herz fest

           Schottland!

         wurde ich geboren
                   mit einem
                         deutzschintellekt?

i'm a poet i'm a rat i will scuttle in darkness
and shimmering teeth
smiling at the moon
because i

walked the old haunts with myself
where i would sit in the night
drink and lament: by lament indeed
i indeed would cry
like a baby
unabashed like a baby a man-baby
not a man-child
but but a man-baby

i'm no Peter Pan or for that matter
Dionysus
what a poor choice of a demigod
coming from a man high on
barbiturates...
who?! who do you "who"?!
i'm not evening asking i will not drop
the "N" bomb...

        no... i will: with my Hot-Vizier
a man who knows Islam
i swear to god i need to find release
and release i will find
i need the stabbing numbing of the heart
i need to numb the heart
once more
forget this Eden
this slow ebbing Eden...

Nietzsche and the mysterious catatonic
Pole he became...
O wait: i'm a heavy drinker
i'm a mini not-me Dionysus
imagining my psychiatrists wondering
about that original diagnosis
as psychotic
and schizophrenic they mistook for
being bilingual: or they completely forgot
that i told them i heard
"voices" in English
but didn't hear them in Polish...
i wonder where i fit on the spectrum
of categorizing intelligence as a mental
disease:

but i did tell them... square in the face:
once you let me out of "here"
i don't know where DA will be or become
with all the:
-ing
-ing
-ing
-ing                          getting to rubric stance
rather than float about like
rogue planets
devoid of concept of meteor
or sun....

Geidi Prime to Geydi Sigma...
the satellite team nocturnal responding:
skin? mostly peeled otherwise
to my imagining: crawling...
thrombosis -
i like the sound of that word:

skin is crawling with nettle-worm
fluids...
we're constantly itching, Sire...
life is good but we have to complicate
it to make more bearable
even with the surplus of advantageous tools
women have the internet
and washing machines
men have AI

and i've never used too many APPS
but every time i mention that
i used chatGPT to help me complete
my NVQ Level 3 in Crowd Management
it's as if i never actually
studied a BSc in Chemistry at Edinburgh
University...
truly...

              i never once used a dating app...
not once... i never used a dating app...
me? i just went to the brothel.
simple(s): i.e. image-talk:
but not e:'moti)c;ons)

    (there: ode to e. e. cummings
in one word)

                 Arènes de Nîmes:
ahem..
AREN (not, i think: AR Eh)
de... d'uh...
NIMZ... not

Boris Brejcha concert:
i wish i was managing security at that event...

re-calibrating my mind
no... my eyes...
this is a problem of the eyes not the mind
the eyes have blind spots...
like so: put Cyrillic not Greek
to good use, for the sake of the Romans:

a rubric Anti-St. off Peter and Paul,
a reply to the Hebrews, rather simple:

ж = ż (or rz, depending on the context
of orthography,
i.e. able to differentiate between
rzeka: river and życie: life...
now for the rubric, short... and sweet!)

/                              ж = ż
/           у = υ (because of
Γγ               gamma) i.e. ooh ooh /
/                х = CH or samo H, not Z
   HEIM INS *****
         HEIM INS *****
*****...

                      ц = c     tylko c... nic wiecej!

before i entertain the tail on the e
for the sake of Polish
i best regress to Greek from Cyrillic
i.e. these letter elude me:
are problems for the eyes
to see past:

             Ξξ
                 Χχ               these two...

because i know
that...

              Ψψ = Σσς
                                       as    

        Ψψ ≠ Π(Σσς)π

                       approximate to subscript
is identifying a small letter
a progress from Cuneiform and Katakana
i must admit:
therefore establishing chemistry writing...
equations of not words
but artifacts of mind on stone
like able to identify minerals in a Dickensian
pleasure of reading
but i will never finish the Pickwick Papers
i'm sure of that
i abhor English literature
i don't understand why i had to read
Shakespeare like it was a measure
of writing skill rather than skill of recitation
because Shakespeare is not
among the: pardon my Swiss critique
just borrowed it: LOSER poet...
threw in a few sonnets to compensate
but think how lazily they were allowed
to write akin to Seneca...
akin to all these lazily living (also) writers...

ah... back to the rubric of Cyrillic...

           tylko c... nic więcej! nic! poza nic!
            nić

                      [t͡ɕ]

oh yes, that's music, the bilingual music
of speech... maybe i can't write music for the guitar
but i can write music for the instrument
of speech that is tongue...

                       ч = chequers...

mind you if i don't find it a problem with
very popular words
like szczerosc: truthfulness...
i could not probably note improve
but if emoticons are aplenty then
at least troll the **** out of the Roman alphabet
like the lazy Cyril trolled Cyrillic with
the easy e and a
and...
but all that effort in I

щ =       šč

point being: if szcz = щ
surely there might be a letter equivalent to
       -ść

dość! enough!

       thought in reverse:

                         don't make me bring out Jan Hus
and the Czech diacritical study:
you have to remember that there is still
this strange Pan-Slavic
that no Germanic person could or will acknowledge
since: can you believe it!
they don't speak English in Paris!

hence the new Tetragrammaton emerges:

    borrowed from sigma and Caro

   ZHZH...

             ha! and what vowels to throw into it like
stones? perhaps best to think about breaths
but it did dawn on my
when uttering THe letters like so:
the frictive variation of F
that is... in THE but not in THought....
but is also the same in ALthOUGH...

и
         и и
и и и

or

и
ииииии
и

    (meat and two veg, ha... not funny)

Cyril you lazy sod!
hey! look! lookie lookie!
no wonder then: so lazy on the a and e...
bud is going to be the next
Hackney ganster
educating the youth
saying that there is not need to panic
when using AI to pass
NVQ exams:
but believe me...
supervising is dull work...

those forced labor camps in Schindler's List
looked ******* authentic...
then the mood switches
and the women arrive in Aushwitz
and then you know:
a death camp is not a forced labor camp
the snow is falling
the dogs are barking
and the guards are ******* smiling!
i mean: if genocide was that bad
then imagine:
hello eternity hello god
and the people who are last in line
are in front of you:
...
   ...
      ...
******* smiling?!
how genius it must have been
to try to reunite the modern Hebrews:
unchanged
with the Ancients of Rome and Babylon
and Egypt:
to no avail! to no, *******, avail!
they stopped fearing uttering THE NAME
to now openly testifying:
oh, so complicated: say what you will...
we really don't know how to say
the word right now...
we never did... plagiarists of Gilgamesh:
store front: Jesus Saves...

****, this ****! **** it!
well... if tribes galore is what we're mining
then at least the Chinese
and the Indians (blue blue)
don't need mentioning their post-tribal
period as civilizations

in this brief civilization yawn
of Europe
we begin tribal again
thanks to the import of labor from
"elsewhere"...
no... there need not be some right wing revival
i just need to watch Schindler's List
with one more beer
and compare the guards
at a forced labor camp
and the guards at a, the, death camp
and begin to wonder
how the logistics of fooling so many
people to the bowels and furnace of
the birth of Moloch came about
so willingly so sheepishly
fooled by a bar of soap
from work camp to death camp
i'm still rattling my brains
about the coordination of the spectacle:
logistically
if you ever worked at Wembley
esp on the egress.. outside...

i can imagine volume: of people: like water...
90 thousand people dispersing from
a Coliseum
after an event it takes roughly 2h...
circa 100 people per tube carriage...
the logistical endeavor: the livid and drinking
insomnia of it all:
if i were a police officer not a security
officer
or a chemistry teacher would i have
the same sort of language freedom as
i am afforded, right now?

money? for this?! you kidding me:
the 20th century literature is still somehow
the stuff of envy while
i'm doing this for the best reason
other than reading a book
and that's called taming the ego
and ensuring it's like a voyager and all
the suitcases are packed
because i can't stop thinking that
i'm an SS-man or a Harkonnen
because that's how i begin to understand being
human...

mind you i was impregnated with that
thought: of being an SS-man
by my teachers in school:
although i have green eyes they saw blue
since green is rare
because the repressive genes that give blue
eyes
overcame the possessive genes that
give brown eyes
but i was white or somehow grown piglet
in no tux of pink
and blah blah a history reference point
to that song about a Bomber like
a glass bottle on a wall: the IRA and the RAF
joint: closure:

defunct bombs: only architectural damages...
(would prefer that in a non-plural
expression, i.e. damage... never mind)

        so much for heartache when she goes
all teary commando and
i get to feel **** that's not: ****
then i make a quick and sudden
incision and the festivity is over
and i'm tired of living but adore the mantra:
arbeit macht frei

and it's not just that people lose
intelligence when congregating
it's just sad to behold such affairs
on a daily basis
when you could, quiet simply:
isolate these examples of man
and not be as disappointed as
i found myself being:
on countless times...
these... things... magi-jigs...
              
             suppose i didn't want to write
the script to the Apocalypse... what then?
Nietzsche had take 1 and take 2...
everyone is feeling embarrassed by simply
being alive...
or strangely alive...
#metoo: getting the jitters like a girly girly
i so wanted for that Billy Eilish #LUNCH
song to not be a ***** ANTHEM
but it's like the White Stripes' 7 Nation
Army at football stadiums...

tummy ache: tum tum...
tum , tum tum tum tum tum

maybe i might just get the rhythm right
with but one word but
the best, acceptable punctuation
(and no, no diacritical markers...
who's who in the know of known who
i.e. knows: who knows)

tum, yes... about right... 5x tum after the initial
punctuation...
but there is at least one other
that i will turn from the comma
into an apostrophe...

tum, no... 6x...
just listening to the song: sorry... right back no back
just shoulders...
and that Cain plum on my shoulder:
am i an angel or just a simple man
devoid: please please poetic audience
tactic me some variation of a hard-on
no no, pretty: pwetty please...

tum,tum...

****'s sake can't count
what i see though is:

tum,tum'tum'tum'tum',tum

       something like that...
the basics... no gradations of splendor:
just the POINT of INTEREST...
smoking barrel of a gun is a fake
when the chimneys of Auschwitz
are not touristy destinations of Giza...
am i, hearing you...
yo-yo...
sorry... ear wax... am i hearing you just
right
before the altar of the god Alter and Pronoun?!
maybe... ha ha:
by now who **** knows! right?!

through the forest: instead of running
simply walking
muddied feet
muddled tongue
  
                       if i could get away
from "getting away" i would call myself
by my name
in third person
and then wonder: what's with this
pronoun gymnastics that
is dumb-    -ing people
who think they are walking on eggshells
but instead: are:
walking on broken glass...

the mirror of the sky
and the mirror of the seas
how entwined without adjectives
sometimes
sometimes things are devoid
of adjectives

a mountain is a mountain is
Moses and Muhammad and they too
are: non-responsive in
definition...

lazily stomaching an afternoon
within a day:

i sNIGGER... snigger -
yet the added S- is somehow not so much
concerning the rest of the word
"somehow": "offensive"?

i'm still astounded by what visualization
was generated from Frank Herbert's
Dune... beside the rather unique
punctuation there is not much to swallow...

willows willows and some drool...
**** and pike and birches for all lost *******
like dissociation with dogs
having *** like we try to think "we" in
the royal sense: devising plans
to outstrip *** from function
like *** is devoid of function
of magnetism like
there is no synonym and no antonym

through the forest: perfect exercise for
both mind and body
not running: oh hell no... no running involved
just hunched for moments at a time
then upright...

sitting on a stump of what was formerly
a prided oak
on a throne of stump
i sat and pondered whether:
is Matthew a good person?

3 years this long distance "relationship"
lasted...
i gave up so much travesty of
the lived, personal, experience
that i found blind-spots concerning
fellow man
and felt more indulgent than
associating Goethe with the title: patriarch...

of whom? artists? like Shakespeare
isn't already the patriarch of actors... isn't he?!
not out of vanity or wounded self-esteem
but paper and ink are readily available
in that: they're no longer necessary...

and all these people attached to miniature
Apocalypses in their pockets
these soft-machine hullabaloos
feats of anti-engineering
it would almost, almost therefore: seemingly
be: best associated with...

seems almost idiotic to pressure the id
to overcome the ego
in the grand scheme of
psy: schematic: associating man with man
within himself:
under what metaphysical scalpel
were these 20th century intrusions:
ventures: in understanding man
how well man became understood
find foundations of such progress
in Auschwitz...

elsewhere life under the Quran was as if
a nightmare to which i woke into
seeing life undisturbed:
with the exception of the unavoidable
outliers akin
to the Pakistani **** gangs of Rotherham

voiceless dental fricative [θ]
or its voiced counterpart [ð]

i think that's the dire consequence
of not keeping check the evolutionary
strategy of language as
its own entity: self... minus my self:
my self: the reflective component
"v" / "vs" the reflexive myself strictness...

forget the aesthetics of spelling
and how it looks on paper...
through the forest
i walked with only one ear...
well... two ears...
but one ear was focused on the parody
of listening to music
while the other ear was honing in
on the furor of the birds
bothered by a pendite...

i literally unearthed this word, right now,
on the spot...
spot of ENSOO... in one sitting:
omicron omega omicron omega:
U turn up to Silon...
up to Silon... my version of Zion...

second-person plural present
             active imperative of pendō

and people come to me with these
iron maiden chambers of grammar solely
on the vestiges of stressing... *******...
pronouns?! seriously?!

what the **** does pendoo mean?
ha ha! well well... just my luck for resurrecitng
old tongues
while i baptized myself in the nettles!
oh the nettles!
i took my shirt off
i was going to take all my clothes off
and run into the nettles
i thought it might suckerpunch me good
to feel the itch crawl into my skin
if i also itched with my testicles
but then again: indecent exposure...
sufficed with rubbing nettles
on my shins
my forearms
my hands
plucked a stem
and rubbed it on my face
plucked a stem
and rubbed it on my chest and my back

like Husayn -
i became a martyr of self-doubt...
no... it was certain:
there was no affair
no cheating involved
but it would have been cruel
to give hope
when the realist in me knew:
perhaps i do not like my work
but i love the company i keep
at work...

i was thinking about the properties
of doing such a thing
hinging upon a story i once read
about Roman centurions throwing themselves
****-naked into nettles...
duck quack medicine...
chemo... no...
cherry chemistry CH CH CH
choo choo...
  "too many consonants" my scratched ***
and tilting halo: for ****'s sake...

DRAKA: DRADZA: DRA-     -JA
equivalent to DZ...

          quack... duck... medicine... ah!
lost a word for a moment:
HOMEOPATHY!
or hum-pathology: **-meo-pathy...
etymological: where?
    ** in Greek: meo mea yes yes
-pathy yes like -ology...

                   this tongue outside of my
mouth in my head
not exactly a rhetorical gift
but for the duty to interest:
i.e. being invested in being interested:
undying! preserved! mummified!

what comes now is a flood of memories:
one or two hiccups
but compared to what Edie was used
to with her experience of men...
over a stretch of 3 years
we only met twice
and we had Oppenheimer sort of ***

that's what happens when
a cryptic meander:
a recluse... yes yes: once or twice
in the brothel
but what i also learned
when *** is bought / exchanged
that rigid LIMP ******* ****
i'm trying to get my rocks off
want to lick her out
finger her and then she blurbs out:
that will be extra...
she also forgot to peel the banana
sorry
but she forgot what the ******* is
for and isn't for
and that was a waste of time
i ended up paying £130 for massaging her...

and that's what: in the heralded
wisdom of a 55 year old to a 38 year
some ******* clue:
oh yeah, yeah... the younger girls
are *****...
hornier: puppet: you have my strings?
seriously?
am i to believe that women
in the luxury of the menopause
are... wait wait...

  wait wait... menopausal women
are hornier: freer...
than their younger counterparts... period!
the end!
i've heard too much ******* to suffer
the fate of the gullible patrons of:
*** for pleasure...

   and she might have thought me an invalid
for not having secured a progeny
in child of my own
(a)

           but now i just see timidity breeding
fluorescence
if that's even possible whenever
i see women in that brackets of (18 - 45)
that's a good bracket to have...
invigorating: indispensable...
like this was my ONE NOTCH
and a belt of all those times
i wondered whether or not i had erectile
dysfunction: clearly not...

******* the brains out of an older woman:
trick came with the thrice tickle...
tasteless?
current affairs and political lies
are tasteless:
suffice to say that a sound reading
of Marquis de Sade coupled with some
sobering Kant and Bukowski's efforts
yes yes... all a matter of fact: stress...
a poem a day keeps the psychiatrist away

a poem a day keeps the psychiatrist away
so much for apples...
tangerines oranges snakes and ladders...

the realist spoke:
i was never going to leave London
for her
that dynamic of mother daughter
grandmother was strict and Christian-obligatory
i can't do Christian-obligatory
when you have suspicions of
the one and only heresy that is: hypocrisy...

i couldn't leave London for Kauai
i would hate waking up
driving past the golf courses of Princeville
and i would hate to live among
Americans
even if they were Polynesian half-winks
of what the genesis story is
of that vastness: i.e. Taiwan...
too much sun not even *****: ooh! azure!

i'm an urban rat
i need urban slang to surprise me
especially if it's coming from the youths
of Hackney and they're Somalis
or Nigerians ...
i feel sick whenever i travel back to Poland
and am stuck with an ethnic homogeneity

too much white on white
i once stated already that: the future is mixed race...
for all the ills and ailments
we need a genetic vibrancy
and one way is to breed:
no sorry... that **** is on AUTOPILOT right
now... as natural as gravity...
but at least black women will stop
wearing wigs
and their half-kin will have a full crop
of hair and there will be no more
*****-slapping concerning alopecia...
perhaps no teeth-whitening envy too:
orange skin tan peel: blinding ivory: ugh!

                        only in Essex...

plus! i don't want to come across as some
invalid
but i really really don't need a car in London
sure i'm heading to Poland
to get a driving license in September
but that's just a formality blah blah blah
but over there: bicycle: bad bearings...
knock-knock buckling...

             England is an island but Kauai
is a whirlpool of existential constipation
that's equivalent to: ha ha... claustrophobia...
oddly enough it was just that...
plus summer is coming
and with that Wimbledon
and the concert season
and the Euro finals and being a tourist
of bad-mouthed Ahmed Ahmeds
flying in from Sow-Di Land of
the free peoples of Putinphilia... well: you know...
blah blah...

           yes: i am the bad man...
because i'm the realist and i wanted the memory
bank to implode then explode into
stretching time:
that non-linear point of having
a concern for time...
a stretching and juxtaposition of time
and that's also QUANTUM TIME...
as much as i might enjoy the quantum space
of my bedroom and me kneeling
before the bed and typing this out...

memory = quantum time

                       i can play with it as much as i can:
with the additional fervor of having
memory intact outside
of the realm of pedagogic infringement
and acidity once upon a time
constricted by learning irrelevant facts:
it's like: why do they teach us biology
when they know none of us will
be doctors or at least most
why don't they teach us nutrition in school
help us focus on the entire body
rather than bulldozer our experience of
youth with talk of *******
thrombocytes and chlorophyll?

          pedagogy is outdated - clearly:
if it weren't for a self-assured want to grasp
etymology / other languages...
beside from the basics of arithmetic and some
grasp of letters: although nuance
that sound to the letters presented
and what dyslexia is there to be spoken of?

ah ha ha... blah blah...
for all my afternoons to revolve around such
joy: to write.

who, the, ****, brings, a book, into, a forest?! it's like these people living in the desert forgot, "somehow"... this fertile land of Europe is what? formerly sand dunes and fantasy? you know how much effort it took to uproot these trees and make this land fertile for a harvest?! like... this is a forgetfulness?! because the sands were easy and the mountains that were before them?! you ******* **** ****** ITES... this... this?! was easy?! to turn the forests of Ukraine into the bread basket of the world?!

Uzair! Uzair! you ******* myopia glue
to glass!
Ooh: Zer!
not ******* Za'ir
you ******* plonker...
check your goggles
make sure they're not sunglasses...

for ****'s sake...
that stubble is no beard!

and if i were to give all this
up
for some cougar ***
on Kauai
with suspicions of psychopathy...

but i did nothing to the girl

FAUN
FAUN
there's the labyrinth there's:
Leopold Göth (Amon):
i'm tired of being the "good guy"
in the lexicon of American
English with
equations of winners
and losers

like mortality is this antithesis
of a sickness of this tongue
this scribble...

so i wandered into the forest
no... no psychological parody, please,
i'm into the racist nuggets
and nothing could,
quiet match up to:

UZAIR!
you ******* goggle eye my
******* google or GANDU
what?!

so...
i took the sin bin approach...
walked into the forest...
found my artifact of antithesis
monotheism
for which the newly arrived
tribes of polytheism
weren't too, too... sure
about...

beside Amir and Ahmed and
Hah'med...
MEDI-TERA-EAN...

the ******* looking at
me all blank:
you ******* Sudanese donkey
bring sprout:
stop coughing up useless
phlegm at me!
******* Jewing ****!

yeah: constricted language usage:
MAtthew will *******
hear you and pass it onto the STASI
police...

"**** me, like i had some sad
sort of wriggling hand of authority..."

NETTLES...
NETTLES...
baptism by nettles
pinch puncture: will do...

i feel... alive!
if not mint in my mouth then
nettle teasing on my fingertips
which is not akin
to the Swiney Tricksee Canadian
bull...

      oh the *******?!

here you are: castrated and de-bollocked
if you were ever to be asking
but grandma grand hag
i took

my spintzer mah fizzle
you never
know, truly,
how to, dissociate the Germanic
from the Saxon
to the English: ping ping
almost "pre-history":
like Sudanese is the Lingua Franca...

what the **** Uzir...
Uz I Air Ear...
one ******* ear?!
one ******* ear?
i stomached ancient Romans:
oops... long gone...
the Jews are still here:
renegade in genocide...
you people ought be sleeping...
but you're still here...
so let's assume you are the genuises
while i conferred with
St Andrew and came up with:

with all the thyme, oregano...
mint is to the mouth
and lips
what NETTLE is to body...
MINT-NETTLE...

    if you were me and you see
the compulsion of having children
without having any
subjective attachment
you might know
how to credit
and differentiate and how to:
put the **** to locker by tow
and toughening: a together...

or via: i walked into the forest
and what came missing?
my shoes
my sunglasses...
possibly my ego...
if this was the appropriate time
i applied a deodorant of itch
where mint was missing

itching body itching fingertips!
why i, wasn't allowed to
be an SS-man! why?!
such a ****** affair of...
"ambitions"...

you call this good existential advertisement?
like some ****** Schmuck
Chopin wannabe
wht ******* concerto: NOCTURNE...

i've been grinding metal like
culminating in paradoxical thing-thinking:
from a diamond
to graphite of scribble...
no itch to etch on stone...
hmm... i do... begin to realize...
relish...
the Hebrews should have followed
suite akin to:
the Assyrians becoming: Syrians...
the Romans becoming: Italians...
the Greeks becoming: Russian...
the Raj nee: Raj... whatever...

Matthew Matthew MAtthew...
thank **** i don't use my second name,
no one's seconding...

but i did walk into the forest and played
a very rare instrument of purpose...
dead tree is a guitar...
pillar of giggling when
there is smoke, and fire...
and a wooden stick as bow...
i clamored for the indentation of echo
and hollow...

what did i receive?
i can't remind her, Edie,
of the terrible men in her life...
but i can't suffocate with all this
revival and hope for:
by simply: being: good...

i left the forest having foraged for
baptism in the nettle
like any Roman centurion... good: to: go...
i foraged for feeling
i foraged for music
i foraged for touch
i foraged for aloofness
i foraged for:
egocentricity
and politics...

          turns out the Israel of formerly-known
Hebrew is more alive in north Amjerica
than in Europe:
i'm glad ISlaam came to Europe...
there's nothing to defend
not scripture no nothing...
i welcome Islam within the abode
of threat of the ergonomic
and work:

ha ha: even Socrates didn't invent
a philosophy of work...
Heidegger teased at the idea: prospect...
of people talking metaphysics while
compulsively averting
that not sold mantra of:
ARBEIT MACHT FREI...

oh sure... the universe is a clepsydra
of nuance and parody...

but i did walk into the forest
and scrubbed my body like a baptism
or like any reverent Islamist
before prayer...
i scrubbed by body with nettles...
because i had no mint in my mouth
to give me Pavlovian giggles
of ooch ooch pouch a kangaroo:
indigenous
the ******* ****-worshipers
want to do with a "decapitation"
of a limp... ****?

it's not that i don't enjoy women
but...
there's enjoying and there's: "enjoying"...
mantra of the polytheistic
and polygamy and the harem!

*******
*******
*******

let me just grinder my reindeer
and army of metal
and we'll be sorted... savvy?!