this heat is unbearable: there's no ice in
this night,
said the king of hollow:
and hallow replied: i see you:
clearly:
as the days of future Us allow you
to see me
but you are so captivated in
the orchestra of poet
that's the flutes of persona:

no... i am not a useless drunk:
deranged project of a missing
mother or a no-father...

i will go ahead...
show you
myself
before you stop being stupid
and loving me
how i sprain how i strain
how i flog you living
i didn't hurt your feelings
i didn't hurt your feelings
i didn't hurt your feelings
i just gave you negative emotions
to digest:
to experience:
i just gave you the bad apple: Eve...
i admit...
i am jealous:
i ate: the apple first:
i'm looking at your eating the good apple
of Augustus
while giving you the maggoty fruit
of Autumn and October...
what apple?
did i give you, dearest woman:
my Chaos in Order of One
in that's Woman:

i also want to write about the taming
business:
i want to be head of the household:
Prasutagus...
i want you to be my antithesis Lady Macbeth:
i want you to be my
Boudica...
Veltic: Celts: C / S belts...

         i am the sober drunk king!
i am the sober drunk king!
i am night!
eyes!
ice!
i am the sober drunk king!

saying goodbye to London
with Quarus:
but i did want to take Veronica Veroniya
to Paris...
for a photo-shoot:

even pets have human dreams:
to escape the ape
and embrace the grotesque god
found in Auschwitz...
for a second there i misspelled ms. pelled:
Giza: replacing it with Auschwitz:
nothing personal:
just biblibal...
just BIBIBLAL:
not allah...

although i wanted to recreate painting
via
piano into writing: from writing
via piano
into the realm of painting...

thought as unit
of memory,
of idea
of grammar
i think
you think
we think
our thinking
unit

she will not find me elswhere
beside the silence of philosophers
and there: i decide:

not a thousand year *****:
not...
a thousand year: war!
it must begin in the realm
of contemplating English history
and the 100 year war...

KEIN TAUSEND JAHR *****:
das der tausendjährige Krieg:
i wan't no struggle... man...
you will go silently into the grave:
democratically...
and with the help of A.i. i will slow
you down to your demise...
i want a war worth a thousand years
i want:
in that respect: a new religion, no?

ah dasha: ilya: hashem: nikita:
such... transgender names:
don't you think?
pronouns are grammar and grammar
is algebra:
that's also abstract: Aztec: Moor: moo!
moon: luminaries from the Baptism
Fountain that's the Vatican:

boys with girl names...
at least in Russia
boys have girls' names
but manage to sock
their feet and put it into shoe
*** shoe *** shoe?
at least the boys
didn't waste their time on
dogma:
propaganda:
but discovered Siberia
and Iberia...
                         Honey Gone Solo
Zalez...!

            mein kampf        contra
ich kampf:

in need of surgical tools:
the born and bred:
British Excalibur...
sorry?
a- indefinite article
+-the=+         definite article...

           but there's so much humbling to begin with:
i don't think you understand belief:
there's no belief anymore:
people are lost the concept of belief:
they have adopted a construct of: being humbled...

be a leaf... became::
be -ing hum: mmmmmmmmm: bled: dried:
not humbled:
i will Islam to convene after me:
bee:
i ask the surah: i don't ask Muhammad!
GDo spoke|:
j ensured
vowels remain leftovers....

i want a thousand year war....
not a thousand yawn of state....
i want a state of being
not a being of count
i will not count...

                   i want a war that
transcends states:
i wish as much USA as IRAQ
but then RUSSIZ>Ń
got involved:
pre to hey
presto: a Nero-Hey-Zeus!
ale to brat brata charata!
ty tycz: swoj czyn:
ja pierw: ty: o godzine: potym!
sra!         albo nie sra!

categorical imperative: so subtle:
you barely recognize it exists
since its existence is so subtle:
as if a Kantian counter-culture
since all the democratic chattering
and sparrow jitters:
by now all we're ingesting
and finding it hard to digest is
the western media-propaganda
complex:
like the Ah Ha'merican military-industrial
complex:
there's also the subterfuge of
the media-propaganda complex:
nothing new: last time i heard
i heard: zilch and then an itch
and i was spooked by how limitless
not being paranoid can make
you gravitating toward a second
layer of consciousness:
it's not like there aren't smart individuals
out there:
but even geniuses behave like
idiots in a chess game that's not
a chess game that's cattle herding
or rather: not even cattle: or
herding: just biological traffic...
and you don't really see biological
traffic in the animal kingdom
but in humans: at events:
just your yawn every day...
god she sounds so ****:
oh but you hurt my feelings...
no...
i just gave you negative feelings:
which is much better than
not giving you feelings:
i didn't hurt your feelings:
i just gave you negative feelings...
neurotic woman
psychotic man...
you decipher the words and
conjure up a picture...
but it's true: Lucy Letby and the whole
hero-complex:
more verbiage...
that's the western post-colonial mentality...
so the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq
were fair play
the war between the Israelites and
the Palestinians: fair play...
every ******* color of the flags waved...
but, somehow? Russia oh so bad?
i've visited Russia:
RUSKIE SKURVYSYNY:
so? at least i'll drink a beer
and eat dehydrated shrimps with them
thinking it's not Thailand and not
peanuts...
just by alienating the one people
that might have the misfortune of
keeping Christianity alive:
and you're telling me:
some advantageous lie some bogus
BIG STINK like it's the BIG BANG
and a NEW THINK is going
to: ******* help me?!
who you associate with
is who you become:
i never thought that being had
a trajectory, i.e. of becoming:
but being and becoming
is something that was not written
about in the 20th century by
either Sartre or Heidegger...
being dissociated from becoming
is the schematized man
of being and time and being and nothingness:
what is time and nothingness
when being comes: so finitely
and implores: so what of becoming?
i hate the 20th century schematized man
with "his"... (shh... more a case
of its make-up) Freudian secular trinity
of ego superego id...
that's fertile ground for conflating
the importance of pronouns:
but the it pronoun is a she that's a he
so your ******* noun of a name
i ask if Peter is coming for supper
implies that a ******* Susan turns up?!
a denial of: a Peter she: is a Susan he:
but a she Peter is still a Peter:
no good abstracting the Peter that's
still a male given name
when you say she: but still say
the already gender neutral pronoun
of the life-affirming: aye: i...
so...
   what's up with this custard pie of language...
and no wonder the Russians and the Chinese
are not invading:
too many idiots, spastic fantastic
******* jugabaloos... wondering:
um um: spaghetti sputniks?!
would it matter where i double up on the consonant
in jugabaloos:
is that better as juggabaloos
or better as jugabbaloos?!

hey island girl! whoop whoop! why do i feel like such an island girl? why does Matthew want to own the bricks and mortar? dunno: he calls me up and says such a beautiful lie of life: like: d'uh: i still luv U... hi-makkah-makkah sing the island girls: Gauguin! Gauguin! where's Israel on the map? why are Palestinians the Israelis allowed their flags the Ukrainians? why so Russophobic? why so Russophobic? why so Russophobic?! STANZ RUSKICH! NOWYCH WYKINGÓW! why so Russophobic?! you Islamo-Fascist fetishist?! why so Russophobic?! *****???? WIOT! NAM ŻE! WIO! KIELICH! IDZIEM! WOJ! bij brata skurwysynie!          nie, naprawde: trzeba: serio...

a diet upon entry:
i find myself
admiring Picasso's cubism
and i find myself in
a garden:
of my own making:
I am the Reincarnation of Adam
and i have toddler Cain
on my shoulder in the mark
he left me: by being born...

Pachelbel's Canon in D Major
of the sweetness
nothing such this absolute
so absolutely...
this definition of the divine:

i'm an artist: i'm a genius
i see the universe cascade
rather than expand:
my god oh lord
to no thrill the jealousy
of modern *******
and the **** of the crucifix:
i was born tonight
in the night
i heard orphan cats
and Cerberus' calls to:
please can someone shut
these dogs:

i sample time with drink
i sampled space with food:
i demanded earth
i got and begot air
and i smoked and i drank from
the rivers:
and as a reincarnation of Adam
a dam: i will give the vowels
in *** while F
Eve will give the consonants
and i became a we
and mother
and father

choo choo, gentle choo choo:
angels can have wings
but can't have mouths:
monotheism in the mythology of polytheism:
the joke choke
of plucking the Eye of a Cyclops...
the Olympics: his favorite event...

going back to basics:
i hate interrupting myself
but i sometimes do
just checking...
Roger Roger Stewart Steward:
my house,
is a house


              my house,
              is a house
              is me
              is my studio
              hero of ink

i ink i don't tattoo:
i'm an artist, composer,
creator:
i'm not: i am no: entertainer...

so why i felt so stupid
wearing a Bruce Springsteen
t-shirt: worked... "worked"
the gig: no, i wasn't attendee
rare event:
transcendental: no ejections:

so i was walking to the supermarket
and overheard...
shirtless men
with seasonal vanilla of *** scribbled
without pen...
the conversation was just banter
one man in the digger telling a joke
i am an artist:
not an entertainer:
the king asks:

                  where is my jester?
where is my entertainer?!
i will keep the disguise of artists
for a while:

crescendo Charles!

                   i am not a journalist:
z: with
            .
z: zzmałiwonia!

ł - Wikipedia
en.wikipedia.org › wiki

insert ctrl p/c/p/c++++
=
             =

adam is the sole archetype of reincarnation:
he's the father of polytheism...
the antithesis of monotheism...

one would have hoped for Islam:
not becoming the next monotheistic failure
by succumbing to schism...
just like Christianity is a poly-schismatic
monotheism-polytheism Chimera...
one would have hoped for Islam:
there's the Arab Pure
and then there's the Turkish Islam...
there's the Egyptian Islam...

but there's the Arab Pure:
like there's a Latin Pure
because Athens is a Democracy
and no Theocracy is invited!
long live the Byzantines!
long live the Byzantines!

but i felt so defeated:
just walking past these men...
their language was so
pure and pristine and stupid:
the sort of language that
doesn't make you
want to drink and smoke
and explore the night
unlike the mantra of the performance-coach
to keep the people: a people
via:
entertained...

Picasso's nightmare with all
those attempts to glorify the face:
i am not an entertainer:
i am a grittier sentiment
of mortality:
where there was once science fiction
there is now
friction fiction that's autobiography:
i can assure the little liar
became a dragon
and the child in him took to
collecting insects:
or at least: had a fetish for the reproductive
antics of worms outside the son
of us:
no serpents to behold just slugs
and earthworms...
and dragons: can't miss those...

and why oh god didn't the Bible:
mention:
archetypes of women
equivalent to Cain the Vegetarian
and Abel the Cannibal...
but why aren't the Daughters
mentioned:
some sacred text!

no wonder the confusion!
there are simply no archetypes of women
for both men and women...
there is no Jesus Woman
there is no Moses Woman
there's the hideous Female Einstein...
there's the ridiculous Female Newton:
but there can't be
a Elijah Woman:
there was simply Joseph
Moses and Elijah as denoting:
male given names:

you can give a chair a noun
and a noun is aggregious =
aggregious:

   in grief: ****** of!                                 f

   but then: why do we call girls:
Layla and boys Richards?
why? why bother this first hurdle so much
so buckle springboks buckle:
at the Olympics:

we all know it:
everyone wants to **** the female
gymnasts...
i know i do:
but i also want to walk away
with a scent of flowers: IF...

if, maybe, somehow:
she still loves me:
i'm either difficult or dangerous...
i can't summon the:
which is which

COLON TO BE THE NEW
COMMA
and don't go mad on the hyphens
and semicolons
when cascading
and not making money writing
in paragraphs...

ah yes! now i remember! i lost that poem: where i was talking to Odysseus via Homer, concerning the madness of hearing the sirens and the tales of 21st schizoid man... but that wording is lost: or at least someone retrieved it, kept it for themselves... because i swear by the almighty: there is no magical combination of clicks that can make you close down a web browser and all the pages you had on standby... god created man in his own image: but also the ape... to sort of put man off balance... can't exactly crescendo with that lie any more; unless of course ***** forgot to add: and god made man in his own image: and the monkey in man's image: just so man could forget or not reveal: how god was just this... Lovecraft monstrosity: love me love me love: get crucified!

in the Islamic tradition of conquest
whereby effigies
or paintings would have their eyes
gauged out as the ultimate violation
of soullessness:
sleepy-tide i assume:
more so than the current stagnation
of the newly literate who
scribble words in graffiti on sacrosanct
"concepts":

last night was the last time i bemoaned
of took to fright and despair
at the magic finger combination
on QWERTY that would allow
me to close down a canvas and
leave a poem deleted in limbo...
i have lost at least a dozen poems
by this miraculous feat of magic-finger
"confusion":
and it was a mighty poem...

just as much concerning this morning:
is one supposed to wake up
remembering falling asleep?
just as much as:
is one to die remembering
being alive?
it's a sick travesty of complicating
consciousness with generics
and stereotypes of the supposed
lived experience:
when people phone in to radio
stations and bemoan having
recurrent dreams...
i dream sparingly: disparagingly...

i tried my best to unearth the themes
in the poem that is now:
i wouldn't say lost:
given the scrutiny of c.c.t.v. i'm on a whim
going to guess that i wrote
something so profound:
it was just the choice of words
and how i arranged them
that must have sparked a paranoia theme
in someone monitoring this
website:
Luddite i am:
but there's only so much technological
paranoia you can work with
when you get to talk about algorithms
and search engines with an A.I.
platform: which is not a person...

but what did come to mind is:
mouths...
anuses...
         to me: angels are beings without
mouths...
evidently:
why would angels needs mouths
in order to speak?
surely dogs have mouths...
but does that make them equally intelligent
as humans: who also have mouths:

a mouth is an **** an ****
is a mouth:
why would angels require mouths
in order to have anuses?
a mouth requires an ****:
an **** requires a mouth:
for me: angels have no concept of mouth
or teeth or tongue...

so this whole shabang of god made man
in his image:
well: but if god also created angels:
the man in me says:
you can do away with all that mouth
and subsequently ****:
because you can communicate
telepathically: no?
aren't those the symptoms of schizophrenia
that one hears hallucinations
floating about
like we know electrons don't orbit
there's no planetary oval distinction
that electrons are quanta
i.e. they appear and disappear
in clouds or how intact is obstructive model
for gravity earth wind water fire...
but on the microscopic clarifying of
details: spooks and ghosts of
counter-intuitive measures...

angels have no mouths:
clearly that saves them the need for an ****
since angels can't exactly talk
about eating
or food...
why depict them with wings
for that SPAZZ SPACE X disorientation
all wings: and all mouth:
no!
angels don't have mouths!
if they have mouths and faces
of humans...
then they must have anuses:
clearly an **** requires a mouth
but why would an angelic creature
require an ****?
ergo... an angelic creature doesn't
require a mouth...

oh i'm pretty sure the draft is saved
but i can't unearth it due to
502 bad gateway...

         but it was me in my prime...
comings and goings:
i still don't understand why monotheism did
away with the underlying feat of
stalking humanity:
by the gods: somehow men stopped
gambling
and the gods stopping playing tricks
on humanity:
yes: the all loving god is only the all
loving god with
the face of a tortured poetic cannibal:
this bread my butter this blood my fig
this bread my body this wine my blood:
like... if this isn't: ******* mischief
and bigotry all encompassing
then we are all fools for believing:

this precursor of the Cartesian model
said nothing of what he thought:
but everything that he supposedly was...

i, am, the way...
and by the way...
there's a ******* fork in the road
and i'm calling it a centurions gamble
on the next dealt cards:
because i'll be all ******* Ernest Hemingway
when i say:
men without women
is that quintessential epitome of
behavioral psychology that needs to
be force fed to young males...

how weirdly we behave almost
Siamese ghost twinning to an artifact
of ourselves we thought was lost
but when awakened by the opposite ***
losing marbles while at the same time counting
them...

for some good kofta and creamed up
garlic sauce of a ****
i would be willing to speed up Gonzales
and make it all the way from Mexico City
to the glorious state of Hawaii
to play a little dangling-lay-lee
with my *******?

    angels have no mouths...
why would they need mouths if they
clearly don't need to have anuses...
if angels talk to god then...
oh yeah: the fallen angels have mouths...
clearly they also have anuses...
but the pristine ones don't have mouths:
like god doesn't have two eyes...
and no mouth either:
maybe ***** has two ears
but then again:

this is my returning to ask of god:
but: you're nothing like i am nothing like ape
but you expect me to just hide
the hidden urges of sussing out the Bogart
of telepathy and telekinesis
and metaphysics like we're talking Frank
and Jill and everything's just ******* dandy
because of an Andy?!

Varhol my ***... tonne of baked bean
tins...
                      take another splash at that *****
custard: there are three orientations
on the throne of thrones:

sikam: i'm *******...
sram: i'm *******...
spuszczam: i'm *******...

            if i get to heaven and i find that angels
have mouths...
i'll start looking for nuns without anuses:
why would creatures so pristine
require mouths...
i get the wings... fair enough:
halos... fair enough...
but surely heaven is as frightening
as hell:
hell is more familiar since most of us
manage to already step into it:
rich or poor...
but heaven must be just as frightening
as hell:
and what could possibly be more frightening
than a creature with wings
and all that's worth androgynous:
without a mouth... but still able to speak...
and you can make sense of it: "audibly"...

i don't see the point the depicting
angels with mouths:
since a mouth is a precursor to ****...
but angels don't eat...
eating is a foreign concept in heaven, no?
ergo ******* in heaven is like
the pleasures of ****** in hell
no?
        maybe i'm just ******* childish
or maybe no one has clarified this "problem"
for me or for anyone...

forgive me god: for looking for you... i'm here to retrieve me name from democracy! i'm not a god of democracy! no god ever existed enough: for long enough: in a democracy! gods don't exist in democracies! god's exist as mortals in the archetypes of Damocles' dangling swords! in my demons and my choir descended to talk: contra to me basing the structure of Homer's account of the Sirens! forgive me god for having asked for your existence as: proof: such atheistic regardless of your being: your beyond static argument... my St. Paul's analogy: forgive me god for you have to intervene in my life... such are the tides any my delusions of grandeur by the count and summary of i: not we: we have been summoned under the guise of the guide of I and of free will.. which We: Royally abject, refrain from commitment: this was the one time Heaven and Hell met on neutral grounds: and left with their respective Versailles proofs that peace is of no accordance with establishing a satisfactory closure to dualism. can i: at least, inscribe this pre-nupital onto you: i never thought you were the sort to replicate the gay angels ***** and Gomorrah: they were not cities: they were names of Angles... who were homosexuals who found the agony of Satan etc being all fetish prone for the daughters of men: abhorrent! ***** was an angel and Gomorrah was an angel and they were the first homosexual angels! who disbelieved in the Rebellion! from that simple culprit of pride: came man's awakening through shame... funny: almost: not so...

and that first masterpiece
was who's bullet
to the brains: my Heinz
baked beans:
my *******: Cannelloni!
no! not the pasta shape!
the french drench
why you ******* it democracy
for me and the banana
boat bread-dren... banana anna...
banana: anna:
Haricot: spasm...
i will tell Homer! about Odysseus'
sirens!
i'll tell them:
we almost had a dialogue
before the "interruption"
for as long as i can remember:
you in the plural
wy: not ty:
i was a gemini process:
but if the world allows
a Lucy Letby:

         why: not: tie...
what's missing?
a H and from ty: ie:
                   Y....
  YH...
           it begins in English: so weird:
whoever said this road
was an easy road:
it leads to nonsense:
who said i'm the devil?
did i ask
to ask:
to be further asked:
am i asking?
is question-worthiness a manner
of existence
given the matter...
at hand?

the darkness visible:
the myopia the miasma in the night
of nights: in sleep:
where we make light
an alchemy: wrong turn...
the darkness visible:
the myopia the miasma in the night
of nights: in sleep...
where we capture the light...
with dreams and:
to entrust our hopes to neglectful demons
but at least these labyrinths
ought to hold...
they ought to hold
enough mental gymnastics to be showcased
for another: 4 years later.

ЩĘKAM! ahwoo! ahwoo!

     ЩĘKA..

Greece is making parameters
and ingesting Romano
lack oh space oh...

ЩEKA!

retrieving the basics for
typo:
monographs:
telegrams:
SOZ HAVIE:
CANT COME:
MONEY
SPENT ON APOSTROPHE
& :

one poem: puff!
turned my attention to flowers
and worms rather than
serpents:
i have a Mortal Project:
a non-combatant:
host parasite:
host parasite:
i'm looking for a host: am i parasite?
talking into mirrors
hearing echoes of my void search
self beneath voice
ego contra vox
i am mantra...

SZYSZKA:
pine cone... the agitator
let's leave it abstract:
so what these c.c.t.v. crows are hanging
around:
we are having a Convene of the Gods:

i get demoted all the time:
i'm too
so not rigid
i see red flags i look closer
enough i might be swinging of the branch:
too much red not enough
blue....

this my: personal affair:
how people replaced crypts
with being cryptic...

i'll let you:
count the Norbert of Nuremberg
i'm about to keep:
in tide of ivory from
Whale Spawned the Elephant;
modern living:
kinda does that with you:
turns you into a snooze
buttocks button plagiarism
of seeing red.

the melancholy of hearing Springsteen's
born in the USA is still hitting me hard:
harder than i thought it might:
to give context:

      i asked my manager if he could demote
me from anything to do with responsibilities
of managing people in
little teams and have just a chill
day enjoying music:

how far i've come: i'm getting desensitized
with live music
and i've been toying with being
desensitized with ***...
regardless should my fantasy of a woman
come
i return to brushing my teeth
and jerking off like it's a spare tire...
tires... bicycle parts:
fish need bicycles no water...

but i knew there was a work around:
at first i felt i was being punished
i was given two petite women
and a man in his 60s with broken English...
then i was given an un'kle
then a Hindu toy of a half-made
i would call him the timid Frankenstein:
what Shelley envisioned in Frankenstein's
monster i see as not half the zombies
just zombies i just don't: want to understand
i'll replace the comma with the colon
piling up on emphasis...

i will not resort to the straitjacket of
the paragraphs: i simply can't!

oh jeez it was so joyous to finally replace
the snapped spoke in my front wheel:
i remember my grandfather not bothering
to buy new rubber in the inflatable
dimension of:
that thing beneath the tire...
the spoke: spokes:
tire: tiresome...
but only recently i realized i had two spokes
that snapped and they weren't obvious
but the gears changed just fine...
but every time i peddled:
the cassette was all wobbly...
now came the change of the spokes
and i realized i didn't have the right tools
no chain whip...
but then again i have a cheap bicycle
that's rich with sentiments
and it really doesn't matter how
money and gold and riches operates
but this bicycle: is hardly something to be seen
in...
the frustration of a simple task
matched with not having the right sort of tools...

so if i was not going to be demoted to
a simple role:
hey presto! a switch of team members:
i was given the sort of people who
would never be able to eject people
for bad behavior...
so unlike other supervisors of a response
team
i just said: stick together:
let me know you're together...
stay together...
if i need you: i'll come and find you...
so i let
Michaella, Hussein,
Abdul and Vishal just wander:
apparently having a hands-off approach:
they talked and occupied themselves
while i stood outside of the vomitory at 514
by the information desk guessing
whether i could enjoy the gig...

i didn't... i ended up taking photographs
of the London skyline from level 5 of Wembley...
but how does the usual work dimension turn out:
the response team supervisor and the four hounds...
me?
as Muhammad no known Abdullah said to me:
you just look and intervene:
these were not hounds: i was not the alpha
these were not my betas...
i needed a new alphabet of meaning...
i just said to them: i'll call you when i need
you...
otherwise? you're free to roam...
sure: i called on my four to manage queues
in two instances:
i noticed one Wembley official calling over
the radio:
but i was already analyzing the chess pieces
of men on the concourse...
and when i put my team to task of bending
the *****-like-behavior of people:
winding curving the queue for drinks while
other peoples might pass...

i'd rather deal with the insensitivity of corks
and screws and nails
than motivating people to do my biding
not my biding
in an environment where
women lack so much:
in an environment where women lack
so much
dealing with people and not children...
not bossy *****: ***** you just don't understand!

700c x 28 wheel...
but the cassette: i can't believe i was riding my bicycle
down hills not afraid:
like the predicate on life in America
is guided by insurance...
like we can't just live to 40 and not flake it
stretch it to 80 whereby the killer-crusher-able and
Abel... says to:
aversion to tattoos:
that mark of Cain on my right shoulderblade
deviated my: if i ever had a:
fetish for tattooing my body...

maybe if i didn't have an assassination
attempt
in hospital that inflated my heart
after choking on the bigger **** to match
a ******...
then another assassination attempt
come aged 21...
how many times will i have to be tried
for not dying yet still living:
and how do people find themselves
able to live a life only exhausted by
old age...
but not life in between
from people just custard-and-fudge-packaging
their ****** sentiments of:
whatever it is that it might (have) be / been?!

i'm missing the proper tools...
Edie ****** me off
and i'm not talking to her because i'm being
a brain-child
and she's "just realizing":
so many complications about:
oh but sure: the average man moves
from Newcastle to Sunderland and that's
that...
i'm being asked to ******* to Hawaii from
London and leave the burdensome father
and mother while: while her mother seems
to be all catered for so
that means: i'll have to go back and also
tend: but to her with child the child is
uttermost important and to me
that's just not my child
but when the child not mine
overshadows the mother the father that's mine:
where do you think?

mother in defense of the daughter:
this comes across as
well: this son in defense of his father and mother
and maybe this is how modernity
ought to look like...
i wasn't happy with being demoted
but at the same time i was given a time
where i didn't have to be:
in the end i didn't enjoy the Bosses'
salute...
he didn't play Streets of Philly and didn't
play: my mustard gas track:
i never understood Iron Maiden's fetish
for world war I account
in poetics... like that war wasn't self-inflicted
by one family...
i wouldn't call world war I world war I:
i'd call world war I the War of Incestuous
Reclaiming of the Nation
away from the Pressures of Empire Building...
World War II was actually the first world war...
why then demonize talk of hyping up
a potentiality of a world war III being staged?

slow down: you'll get your world war III
as a world war II
because world war I wasn't really a world war...
you should know
that between world wars...
there has to be a cold war
of reflection...
past cold war I now a cold war II
so it seems only natural that a world war II
is impeding like scratching my head:
is that an itch or an inch of hmm...

so i had my "hounds" roaming while
i sort of: looked different in the background...
but even at the AC/DC gig
we had ejections
came Springsteen there was an atmosphere
of: had a good time will have a good
let's all have a good time...
but i don't think much of a rhino in that...
i just don't understand
why she thinks i can't think her claiming
my father's and mother's hard work:

would i rather the flimsy supra-real love
of blessed **** best ******
with Jason, Jeff and Peter:
would i rather be loved or homeless?
after all: how excruciating the laws of men
with all their sidetracking subjectivity of
passing judgement:
while the objectivity of the law of gravity:
has: already been passed!
so there's this weird impasse:
how naive am i and how desperate is she
to tell me it's not otherwise:
is she going to tell me i'm yet another
cradle-snatched example of ***
below par for her Mantis hot-spot of hot fat
*** and i'm so naive as to think:
**** is not enough
to... oh wow!

                if this was me i wouldn't really
as much as i'd like the headache of a teenage
girl:
i'm starting to think: maybe it would be
easier to have a boy to prize and mold and
figure **** out...
but then she's all flimsy and sorry-soppy and
for me i spoke to the night:
this relationship is turning out to be
one right proper: BOGUS of BOG...
so what? no signing paperwork:
we're still going to be these loved-up teenagers:
so i'll lie about nearing 40
and you'll lie about nearing 60
and somehow life will manage itself
like we pretend to work together
but here we are:
i've worked for something and you worked
for something:
there's a disparity of what we worked
for...
and now: we are to share?
if only my interaction with you was uplifting:
but i can hardly call it that:
as told in the mantra of high-school...
i just overheard two supreme quotes:

take a picture: it'll last longer...
and...
you're special: just like everyone else!
Catholic mantra:
yet still people manage to grind
a hope for that antonym i
just want a secluded life
i can envision working with people
but then days on end with
no one in my vicinity...

              aged nearing 40
and having my 20s in a recluse mode...
and half of my 30s...
why should it become so embarrassing
so incomprehensible to think i might
want to bypass all those complications
of dealing with a person
on a personal bias: focus...

            i just don't understand the need
for intimacy... that might develop into...
what? the fear sung about
in Eleanor Rigby?
where all those lonely people go to?
into Abraham's *****...
that's where they go to!

   but it would be so anti-****** to succumb
to just good ***
when i've amassed so much time spent
alone reading philosophy
and i read philosophy to escape religiosity
and that's just a ******* mismatch...
outright off the bat...
i've spent too much time alone
to somehow crumble:
i just don't want to hurt...
turns out the complimentary party
will just hurt itself regardless...

        i've spent too much time alone
and that's just that.