i wrote a paranoia poem when i was in school:
once...
maybe being diagnosed as schizophrenic
has made me more adept
in focusing for splinter moments
of listening to people: IRL...
and some honing in device of an earpiece
at the same time:
maybe i am hearing voices:
wait...
i am...
this just makes me stand out like a ******* clown
on parade!
not a clown about to put his make-up on!
disaster...
unlikely for many to know:
English Authoritarianism is sort of:
savory: it's not sweet:
there's plenty of fiber:
not a lot of flamboyant philosophizing...
enough work-arounds and other:
flamboyant terms: for ergonomics blah blah:
but the English way is:
let's get **** done and forget about
puritanical "justices" of idealism...
i like it:
i'm only now realizing how Left Politics
works in England:
it's... ******* beautifully:
muchos grunchos:
it's none of this media Americana exporting
ideology *******...
i was born in Poland
of pure pedigree:
that translates into English as that born & bred
macabre...
i love the English Left!
it's FASCIST!
currently: ugh: what's the date? the time?
12th August, 2024...
2 minutes to noon... almost an Iron Maiden
song...
eh?! the English left is like the American left
of the post-Soviet experiment?
no... i'm pretty sure the English left
are the authority over containing a people
than the right ever were:
the conservatives of England:
are the true liberals:
people are so muddled i don't even know
if i can knit...
so people thought the Labor party was
full of these quasis: ditto heads of enforced
language policing:
sorry... ha ha: all seems slightly covert...
but that's how the chameleon plays it:
covertly: silently... with an OOPS!
thank goodness i'm on the receiving end
of a mantra akin to:
god, this heat of Augustus is unbearably sane...
sanity project:
for the most part:
all the sane people are solipsistic...
the insane people are trans-dimensional...
i will no reveal my personal interactions
in the workplace:
i'll sooner write about the great ******* i accomplished
seeing as the woodland pigeons are adamant
on making their homosexuality known...
and how they adamantly court:
almost ****-encouraging:
while the crows sort of... word with pecking
without tongue: can't this frivolity be left
to the burden of the night?
no! the pigeons stutter: then wobble:
then bubbles spontaneously appear:
while i deal with parasitical worms in my eyes
that i hone in with my microscope of scope...
i've reached that age where i was young
and now i'm semi-old...
and now i understand English Authority:
forget British Values: blah blah...
now i understand: English Authority:
it's so... oh so subtle...
i wish i could say it only takes the right
measure of posturing and silence...
but it's also associated with
the synonym antonym and the name giving force
of how human chess is played:
how human chess has to become
a game of backgammon...
but only the left in power has allowed me
to see this...
the English right, liberal-conservatism
has blinded me for so many years!
i was blinded by the English right-wing
liberal-conservatism... too long!
i like peace: i like calm:
if that comes at a price of psychological
tyranny: so be it...
freedom of speech ought to be freedom:
if there's something worth: being said:
if there, is, nothing, worth, being, said:
then what freedom is it?
               i don't even think it's a question:
i listen to birds squabble
i listen to dogs bark...
       i listen to cats meow and escape those meows
imitating human speech:
     what freedom of speech:
something irritable: inconvenient:
some... "unheard" of truth?
knowing how truth operates: it becomes covert
and the marrow
and the burrowing dynamic of a mole...
truth doesn't get silenced:
it might get ignored, for a while...
but it's not silenced: a truth is a breath
that's a breath without the lies of words...
freedom of speech is a filtering dynamic...
but feel free: say what you want:
and try to breathe while you're at it...
don't want you to suffocate on your...
ahem...
the English left is this newly unexplored
territory of: a return to school:
rebus...

                 it's not what the media thought
as pronoun contagion... propaganda...
i'm not going to claim the genius of the equation:
but when all manner of sensibility and sense
becomes exhausted: the authoritarian Left
of England seeps in: steps in:
**** **** they chant...
yeah: the "NAZIS" are in power:
and i just feel fine: this Augustus heat is...
sweltering... i'm thinking: jolly-ball-jelly-baby
jellyfish dancing on Thursday when
Taylor comes back from cancelling
her mimic karaoke from Vienna...

but people fell in and out of love in ****
Germany... didn't they?
let's play...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

not the poem i was expecting.

words agitate me out of sleep:
i figured:
this schizophrenic night and day
duality of how the earth orbits
no wonder we become
disorientated:
to counter-protest:
i recently purchased a BASIS
road-bicycle...
a slender frame
a Grecian statue:
i believe the military Christ
side by side with Michael
is hanging around Greece:
if i'm going to believe
in Christ: i need to believe
in a militant Christ...
but only until the phantom swords
of the crucifix disappear..
not until then...

caffeine is as bad as music:
as an agitator:
the alligators of Afghanistan
ought to know...
i'm writing for a New Elite...
maybe that's why i feel so...
so... disgruntled...
i'm tired of the consciousness
allowance:
subsequent hangover...
reaping no rewards...

but my body is also tired
of drinking so much:
so many people don't allow
their bodies to have a voice...
i know that
i see that:
i have parasitical worms in my eyes...
which is why
i don't mind her suggesting
i have pin-worms in my tickling
****:
i'm kinda happy with:
the symbiosis to counter
the man's dimensional abstraction
via dualism:
i'm talking symbiosis:
Christ the Parasite of Satan
and Satan the Parasite of Christ...

symbiosis: Peter, St.
where those Aztecan dances:
i had the stupid thought
of cycling into London wearing a Taylor Swift
t-shirt:
words are not words:
words are just words:
Pepsi: Coca-Cola: Smirnoff...
Jackie Judo Daniels...
i scratch my forehead:
you scratch my ***?!

words are meaningless:
said the dyslexic pastor
and i was like:
do you see past the letters:
to envision the sound
to then descend into the realm
of words:
words like abstracts
like punctuation
like grammar:
like subscript chemistry
but superscript algebraic mathematics:
doodle doodle...
doodle...
i don't want to live among Europeans!
the great wind
is not with them:
such mediocre: fire,
earth,      static...
wounded and doubly wounded
with sepsis..

               Chopin's bride...
   will this relationship save me:
is she the black widow redeemer...
have i finally crossed the Rubicon
of women who despot
by despot
analyze my attention giving prowess...

fold the pillow: to make a croissant!
fold the pillow! to make a croissant!
don't make me ask you
twice on explaining to you the spine!
and how two pillows won't work:
stop pretending to be Anne ******* Bolyean...
Boylean.... Bolyean:
Bolyon...
will you seriously ask me for the proper name
of Anne: and Henry: sitting in a tree:
one chop two chop
three chop the tree...             is a stump:
m'eh wowd...

          Bo-lane... no... but who reads poetry
on poetry websites...
if not poetry MA graduates:
who writes:
Police novelist...
Security guard: diarist...
Hairdresser: protagonist...
and that ****** up daughter of hers
that has me believing in the Red Flags
of Yugoslavia that i also
believe a Second Byzantines will
thirst for reviving the Ottoman barber barber...

but if poetry could be understood
as the antithesis of journalism:
current: given: what year?! 2025?
if poetry could be given this allowance:
and there would be a purge:
Stalin says hello,
sister: hello: thank you Stalin:
if i had a cat
of my own...
i'd become Hades...
if i had a dog: of my own:
just a little cluck towards a chicken...
puck puck:
hog hog onomatopoeia queer of queen:
said:
HULK TU'AH...
hawks?! hawks?!
all praises to the gods extinct...

Jesus is saving ****:
just about shaving his ***
so that his girlfriend can
perform: more than just ****...
time wasting: oral as much as
optometry...
***: invoked...

i am: being: cannibalized
by: lazy thinking:
no visualization of the gravity
of 0...
of nothing...
to craft ego from nothing
to create the ego-ergo...
like Virgo... Zodiac... hmm...
are we going to be that weird
couple
that just **** like rabbits
and digest world news like
bad dreams:
are we going to be that couple
that's so solipsistic that
the world will give us a
snippet of Alzheimer-Warhol
15 minutes...
or would, rather: those descending:
descendant:
you beat me to that
cross-hyphenation of complex:
my ******* is your
******-catharsis:

don't believe me?!
                        i'd peel off the skin
of the fore:
but i can't... because of two protruding
veins of the vine:
so... drink your wine twice:
then, Turkey:
i'll make sure i gag you with the nibble of bread!
now: i will turn you:
into a slave...
i will not liberate you:
i will turn you not adherent of the Greek
tradition of the militant Christ:
i will ensure you become
adherent of the Reformist Christ:
the pacified Christ:
the cuck Christ...
the Protestant Christ...
this: English Antichrist!

i had to wait for gaming to evolve: right now, the only evolution to speak of is the evolution of technology, which has exponential growth: the world around me burns and i burn with it, ingesting a liter of alcohol a day not knowing when to stop: is it painful: am i getting indigestion, heart-burns: yes... but i'm also more alive because of it: i'm not some wanderer, restless nomad with barbiturates: i understand alcohol: Nietzsche didn't... but i don't blame him... but gaming is so much more with the advent of the internet: now i can replenish my thirst for chess with Mech- -Arena ++, it is an imitation of chess it is vamped up chess... i get to orientate my ego, i get to sooth my ego in the abstract, beyond the reality of biology, i can fuse my background in chemistry and hope: to understand: but knowledge doesn't breed hope: understanding comes from hope but knowledge comes from fear... i understand and therefore hope: but i never quiet know whether there's any good to get involved for... but that spiral is a chaos whispering... i want to suckle at the beckoning: i want to speak a language on the border between sea and earth and earth and air: and air and water: and air and fire... i want you pluck my own eye out and give it unto you: dear Archetype: father... how gaming has changed: i was told to be resolute in not finding a PS2 instead settling on a PS1 console plugging it into the t.v.: but now the mobile reconstruction: it almost feels like a ***** colony with people aging to 70 exponentially straining the expected life frequency... are we talking the possibility of philosophy being not bound to youth? are we simply saying: philosophy owns up to old age is old age the new glorified gatekeeping strength of mundane experiencing: this blunt knife is no longer sharp... am i supposing a hammer ought to be sharp to nail nails in: am i speaking of spokes: those skeletal necessities of a bicycle wheel?

before the Hebrews and Jahweh came
to Poland:
it's a strange ordeal of think about it...
but before they came with
YHWH
there was a word: prior to the name of
their god
and in the mouths of the people of
the fields...
JAWA:   in English that's YAVA...
there's no need to implore the H to command
the vowels...
JW                  signature...
google translate just spews out jawa: as java...
it's not dzawa:
na jawie: on waking: awake...

   yavye...
                     i understand now...
no one is going to have a reasonable
conversation with me...

i can stand accused of speaking to her
while falling asleep...
also timid also slightly drunk
also testing marijuana
and that's just lazy...
but at least she's just rummaging
in her everyday and i'm in bed
this 11h time difference referential
is punishing...

before YHWH came to Poland
there was the concept of consciousness
known as the JAWA...
YAVA...
not job to rob whales of:
strange creatures:
mammalian: prone to cult like suicide
pacts getting themselves
beached...
don't you think the whales are sort of saying:
the seas are boiling
we need to find our godhead
and get the **** out of this *******...
i feel that...
i don't intend to stay in England
for much longer:
England is not my BORN & BRED
i don't feel welcome:
i want to live in the kingdom of the oceans
on an island:
i want to live among Polynesians...
i want to ingest their tribal mentality
their tribal scrutiny their tribal security
of authority of loyalty of honor
i want to live among the Polynesians...
i'm going to do it:
even if before that i don't get my driving license
and sober up...
to raise: not my daughter:
my a child is still a child so...
i don't want to live among this bastardized
anti-racist pseudo-Europeans
these cuckold **** suckers!
i don't want to live among these people...
****** sandpit:
i'm taking my vocabulary and ******* off
into the sunset:
and even if that's the last thing i do
i know i'm stalling and assassinating myself
by a default of failing:
but then i'm also a fan of a quasi soap-opera
like i'm a big fan of opera and
especially a fan of ****** opera:
i love a ****** opera:
the type of opera that makes me leave
disgruntled like a phantom and saying:
nein nein nein benign!

thank you English: but i picked this language
for my own sake
it was nothing to be mediated
or explored with for the good of the people
who originated with it:
we can talk politics but we won't talk
politico:

a great wind came and swept me away...
my forefathers dreamed about
******* off to America:
well... i'm wanting to ******* way past
America:
i'll be saying hello and goodbye
while i enter the realm, the dimension,
the strict mental blockade of water with
the Polynesians...
these beyond the measure of the attitude
of the Mongols:
these former Taiwanese oar men
like vikings... hmm similitude...
what's a good broth of a soup on the islands
should you need soup?
so the base would be some meat:
carrots... **** no carrots that grow in the sea...
leeks... potatoes...
celeriac...    young celery stalks...
o.k. workable: not doable though...

**** me: the wicked talk of border-control:
on a ******* island...
you'd almost think if someone whispered
to ******: wait wait...
how about we invade England
by digging a tunnel...
but dwarf technology and innovation
was never part of the quick premature *******
mentality of the Nazis:
cheats... if they only waited and someone
said to them...
pst... hush hush:
let's dig a tunnel... rather than terrorize
from the air...
then again: why did they just drop bombs
avoiding St. Paul's cathedral...
why not just drop a bunch of hulkish manly
Aryan men into the mix?
clearly that wasn't the plan
because i don't know what the English feminine
is since i've been ostracized
and thank **** that i will never **** an English
woman: these days
exponent of foul mouth and neck tattoos
and something a Pakistani **** gang develops
a taste for...
well at least the Romanian prostitutes...
but **** is such a bad taste in a mouth wanting
violence...
how can you: ugh... unimaginable...
but i'm happy: to have lived in England
for... donkey's count of years and never actually
having ****** an English girl...
the grey skies ought to be turning blue at some point:
maybe if i was less able
maybe a Hapsburg jawline...
maybe my teeth are rotten:
maybe my father was right when he said:
are you are hunchback?
i'd return to him and say:
let me find out... but i'll need to fly over to
Hawaii to find out... i'll get back to you...

it almost felt like i was screaming into the night
when it fact i was having *******
explaining the importance of *******
on a man...
i have no respect for circumcised men:
in that i have no respect for the tradition
that thinks that circumcising men
will somehow keep the concept of monogamy
intact...
yes:
baby: i'll get circumcised: aesthetic?
no: i was thinking i'd get circumcised after you
put a ring on this finger...
so that i am no longer able to pleasure
myself:
so i did say: dream talk, borderline:
because i talk in my sleep i want to find
the person who talks falling asleep:

didn't i say that you can do one better
than giving me a *******?
didn't i say: kiss me while ******* me?
isn't that what *** ought to be:
something to work with
a transcendental conversation
a language barrier missing
just gone...
you kiss me while jerking me off
i'm pretty sure you don't have to ****
on that tool...
but that's a prerequisite of the *******:
******* sand-******* and their *****: ugh!
how about we cut the lips off
so that the smile might be more prominent?
it won't be a Chelsea grin:
but a Kenyan oopsie!
still showing teeth? barren *******...
and these are the people that are the spearheads
of all civilization? **** me...
but the ******* is so precious...
it's like that poisonous **** mentality
of inbreeding and the fetish for anti-pig...
what's wrong with the pig
what's the point of glorifying cow
when you know you can eat red
meat because the chances of ingesting parasites
from raw steak are so slim?!
cluck cluck cluck-oh-ooh!
chicken farts... blurp:        now i will have
my berserker fun!
   but i know how to contain alcohol: so i can
talk *** and not permit myself
to feeding off violence:
because i believe that the best sort of ***
is: an imitation of violence: contained...
measured:
deliberated: kept in strict of confines of
dialogue: beyond any measure:
attempted by Socrates...

so before Jahweh and his He-brew crew found
their way to the odd sanctuary of
Poland where: i guess because the Poles
defended the last pilgrims of the winds
that were the Lithuanians... the last pagans of
Europe:
well: besides the Prussians who inverted
what wasn't Germanic...
come to think of it: the best way to digest
history is by treating is like a comic book script:
write the words:
the images come later...
so then the Hebrews came to Poland
(how the **** did they get there,
i don't ******* know)
it's almost mythical in the stance of: huh?
so many of them?

the moment i hear one Jew tell me about
the Polish collaboration with the Nazis:
it took...
**** Germany, Soviet Russia...
and the Slovaks to invade Poland...
and it took them... 2 weeks...
it took the same amount of time if not less
for only **** Germany to invade France...
*******...

yeah: well: some probably did:
but last time i heard...
there are more Polish names on the hall of flame
fame... flame... whatever somewhere
in Jerusalem...
but yo: you still circumcised!
i could understand doing a van Gogh's ear
but if these are the people we sow
to find spiritual guidance:
no wonder i'm hearing of Wōðanaz:
woovanaz...
  that's: ð of the
              and not the ᚠ of thought...

                   i think Nietzsche predicted he was
moving outside the Germanic realm
and into the Slavic realm by crying out:
i'm Polish! i'm Polish!
apparently "we" are the French of the Slavic people...

oh the brute:
that Malachi was so wrong: Malachi 4:5...
reincarnation goes against all the supposed
superiority logic of monotheism!
reincarnation of either Jesus or Elijah are
horrendous grievances against man's commitment
to monotheism!
it would have been best
to astound the world with the atheism
of China or the polytheism of India
than to succumb to this constipated and
circumcision frenzy mind ****!
cut an ear off! cut a ****** off!
how these people are not considered as bad
as the Pigme and the cannibals
who sharpen their teeth without having
any maulers i will never want to know!
how about cutting a toe off?
the ******* phallus aesthetic improved:
again!
if you want to truly fathom an unbreakable
bond of monogamy like
an imitation of swan... go for it:
sure thing gurl:
i'll snippet my hand movements off
when you decide to put a ring on this finger...
until then?
nein nein nein!

so now a circumcised **** and donning
the kippah is something of an elevated status?
outside the realm of a somewhat sensible
secularism:
at one point i didn't actually consider
myself a leftist liberal...
or rather a liberal:
but since i've aged i'm just agitated
about conservation projects...
beside wanting to be a gardener: in thought alone...
notably when you read:
oh thoughts are just thoughts
and actions speak louder than words
and words are no carriers of meaning...
actions:
hmm: so you would better understand
if i punched you in the face?
that's what it has culminated into:
words are not carriers of meaning...
spoken as a true dyslexic...
but images are ******* mesmerizing!
images convey meaning: words don't...
well then...
it only feels appropriate to speak
that sign language of a clenched fist:

                             clearly... what else is there?
but i shouldn't worry:
i hope to not live in England come October...
if i'm not on Kauai by December
then at least i'll be dead.

clearly they're scared of the impeding gravitas... at Wembley... well... if i was this lowly exit steward once, then plain ol' dandy... then supervisor of stewards, then a supervisor of the response team... and now they're asking me to be a quadrant manager... the security industry is not a career (reiterate: there is no career prospect in the security industry) - and rising in rank is not something to be glorified... but here's the burden and apparently i'm competent to be able to do: human-chess... but the subterfuge of people with absolutely no skills: no skills in construction, no skills in culinary expeditions... which later translates as no competence in giving people instructions in a mild-mannered deviation from having authority... but here i am... the first time out of a school environment of climbing ladders and it's just like school... the horror...

so i get technological paranoia... sue me...
a 502 bad gateway
of a page shutting down is
me at my most orientating pristine...
but then i share a picture of my ***...

thirst for squabble:
she's demanding triangles
and squares and circles of me:
something geometrically defining
my construct
in the confines of a female psyche...
so we playfully argue
like she does pretty much
all the arguing being half
Puerto Rican
and i'm like: o.k.
for the juicy peach of an ***
i get to RAM...
i'm not arguing...
as long as i can think about
making a pasta Carbonara
the next day
and think of eggs
and slugs
and *** and **** juices
then some blood...
and how she only recently told me:
well you know that i've done
****...
like me being upfront about
trying out a ******* and for
the love of god
the next time i ingest that suggestion
of... "feeling like a king"
just because:
i could swear i didn't ask
for a *******
i was almost pressured into
claiming that whisper:
but it wasn't true:
i didn't feel like a king:

threesomes are for petty thieves
who cannot reside in the confines
of a harem...
the rest revolves around
the dynamite of monogamy...
the nobility of monogamy:
the triviality explained: celebrated:
of monogamy...
like her falling asleep with
her daughter falling asleep
and me on the other side of the telephone:
not trying to fall asleep:
now that! that was a *******!

to have that sort of pairing of mother
and daughter knowing
full well the daughter is not even a taboo
but a sanctity...
taboos and sanctity...
strange how a plural of the latter word
doesn't really: "figure itself out"...

but how i love these petty arguments:
you cut me off,
not saying: i'll be back in a minute:
well mother called and she wanted
me to take a picture of a hospital appointment
letter...

i knew there was something wrong
with those brakes:
there was too much tension
on the wire...
i might have been a fool trying to take
off the cassette...
******* up my wheel then gleefully
basking in my intelligence's impotence:
but breaks and break wires i can figure out...
too much tension:
that's why whenever i squeezed
one side: the right side
of the brake would leech onto the wheel
and create a friction:
since there was too much tension on the wire
there was not enough REFLEX...

the most important aspect of dealing
with a subject matter of revising
a bicycle is:
you need the proper tools:
i can't stress how much ******* i received
from myself
for not having the right wrench or
the right spanner etc
to improvise with a bite of tongs
is not a way to revise:
i don't need to have shoe guards on those peddles!
what if i get "confused"
by the spin and i'm at a roundabout
and i need to press hard
on the peddles to engage the traffic
and almost be grinding my teeth
at the start of a race at a velodrome?!
apparently the force that needs to be
exerted on those bicycles is
equivalent to someone pushing a car
while reclining on their back...
well **** me: i'd love to ride
a 55,000 quids worth of a bicycle
more than i'd want to drive a Ferrari...

ah... the ******-Catharsis Complex
of the Anti-Oedipus scrutiny...
perhaps... but no...
it feels less and less like i want
to **** my grandmother and more and more
a relative concise: precision-marker
of wanting to **** my grandmother:
in terms of the body-volume
voluptuous scandal...
like pears, peaches,
oysters... slugs...
                   cushions...
                         clouds...   chicken hearts...
squish squish... octopuses...
kittens...
   cannibals exposed
to civilization and vegetarianism...
then losing the plot with veganism...
anemic vampires...
     haemophilia...
                       someone fainting seeing blood...
needle poison...

not so much public as it is cryptic
or perhaps i don't really mind
that i see people see me **** her
in my mind:
they're not actually going to see me ****
her just me thinking about:
for the time being:
next time i do i'll open up a champagne
bottle and call it a new year's eve party...
until then
we have to spice life up with
little agitations to sense a wonder
for the status quo:
otherwise it's not going to work...
but little agitations i can stomach:
like a steak tartar...

but how she managed to convince me
that i'm parasite riddled
how i have worms wriggling
in my agitated ****: tingling ****:
well... if you're scared of me licking
it and you enjoy it:
then you might as well know that
you're riddle with pin-worms!
yes! you are! riddled with pin-worms!
am i?
what?! just because i felt sort
of weird about you licking my ****
out oh the power play
so now i have to concede:
because i get to get off licking your ****
out...
but i've never experienced ****
and you have
and maybe if i wasn't so *******
vanilla i might be inclined to be gay
and maybe i should ask someone to
stick their fingers up my oblique
of a mouth:
and test for the existence of a prostate!

like a fish needs a bicycle
like a tortoise needs
a cupboard.

by all the possible exfoliation of mannerism
to breed a sense of concern:
of Heidegger's da-sein: of being-there:
as opposed to there's-being
i cannot, but, feign...
the football season hasn't begun yet
so the tribalism usually associated with
club factions disappears
for a while, in tune: in harmony and rhythm:
what's the difference between
harmony and rhythm?
i think that's an authentic question to ask...
but given the current atmosphere
of the Olympic games:
look! we all know that Duplantis won that
competition fair and square:
but if you managed to watch woman's
synchronized swimming event:
that French team's belly flop with gymnastics
at the opening of the routine
was not deserving a first placement...
the Italians shrugged it own with a clean
feet first incision of the water...
but Olympics is not a tribal sport:
not fanatical...
fanatical pacifism:
but that's not what controls the mob with
mindless stupor...
i'm yet to find an intelligent drinker...
i hone in on the poison and utilize it beyond
comparison:
for me it's really a question
of:

aqua

       status quo:

today i woke up at 7:30...
i didn't have to:
now i'm writing this at 12:00 exact...
and i feel like i have only woken  up
at 11:00am...
but i just spent the past three hours
talking to my baby
and in intervals of bad internet
connection

21sec
18min
22sec
25 sec 30min
18sec 22 sec
18min

   unless the Empress is streaming and
cutting off our connection
i would imagine this is a game
you're playing:

the cat came out to play with a mouse
went into the garden to sniff
at the evergreen tree
in my garden:
noticed a fly:
then noticed me...
yes: i was that, once...

         when the lord of the flies
came face to face with the lord
of mosqutos
mosquitos:
quitos: piquant: moss: mosquicktoes?

**** me... mosque of the quick toes?
Mt. Niqab?
and i said to him:
what a strange fruit...
this bread soaked in wine:
what a strange fruit...
don't you think? Lord Jesus Lord Christ
Lord of MOSQUITOES...
what a strange fruit:
this wine soaked slice of bread:
don't you think?
and what a strange tree:
on a Hill the Barren Hill of Golgotha...
were you trying to be me?
Cosmopolitan Messiah
O belittling Rome...

            for all the canvas of free speech:
more then: worth more then than
worth now:
people debate free speech
but we're talking free speech to zombies
and ditto-heads
of the journalistic mantras:
no one is bothered about free speech
as such:
people are just bothered
about not being heard
because everyone is so fat, docile,
intimidated by the luxuries of life on offer
than confusion seeps through
and debilitates even more:
numbs and doesn't confront:
the grand anesthetic for life
which comes from the anesthetic toward
the piquant pleasures bound
to pain...

of course the riots are happening!
too much sport!
you are televising too much sport
on the t.v.:
people will get bored
from being average:
not from soap opera antics
of the football pitch
that mindless sport...
with pundits blah blah and that sports
commentary for football is
a graveyard shift by the choice of
words: these days...

people are having a frenzy
being exposed to the Olympics:
after years of routine in mindlessly following
football...
seriously...
some honor some prestige is involved
in competing at the Olympics:
but then the Chinese can't be snubbed
for doping:
yeah: they took the alternative route:
they went meta-human on the rest of "us"
and started to genetically engineer
people...
but that's not inhumane to think about:
it would be inhumane of me to think that
i am an incubator of pinworms:

/ 'iny, parasitic nematodes that live
in the intestines and lay eggs
on the skin around the **** /

i had to copy and paste those words...
that's why there's an apostrophe instead of a T
for the word: tiny: heiny hieny high-knee
  heinee...      English is so ******* ****:
no clear phonetic correlation
to what letters are used what letters
are said: no proper vowel to consonant
correlation in no syllabary...
of the Japanese:
or the Polacks: Samatrians...

even the Aryan Deutsche:
i never said ihr: ich or isch?
ich is IX
       but isch is iś: which is almost Croat...
funny this daydreaming
like i don't have a day to live...
but what can you do:
when in love you primarily love to talk
when in love you love to listen
when in love
you love to communicate like never before

c'echa... the apostrophe there indicates
a stress
to surgically cut into the word
with both sound and meaning:
since the two are dichotomous rather than
by dualism-bound...

you think i have pin-worms?
really?
so you've been reading into my dreams:
my mortal show of horror
of becoming came in the version
of Pinhead: the priest of hell...
and now you're telling me
i should de-worm myself on a regular
basis because children don't
wash their hands after taking a ****?

wait wait... so i wasn't so special
having attempted ******* aged 8?
children are ******* flirtatious?
seriously?
so the question is how one controls
infantile: born of original sin: flirtations?
it's so original that it's actually
a duplicate: that the original sin
is actually: plagiarism:
that's inherent for the survival of the species?

that's when god realized:
****! i didn't create anyone as unique as me!
i just create another sea!
i just create ants!
but ants that share my understanding
for and of potential
but there will be so many averages
and only few glimmers of hope for me
to push through a Newton...
but average is good: Sir...
average is good: if you have a Her...
i don't mind being average i don't mind
being a security officer
i don't mind being a taxi driver:
provided i can have Frankenstein's Bride
and a Bridge to you:
with many thanks, Sir...
i don't mind being demeaned by some hierarchy
that does no align with your existence
in the presence of fleeting butchery of intent
and genuine authority of the pen...

there was more freedom of speech
when people were not exposed to literacy...
but since the advent of literacy
freedom of speech is debatable
because you'd think that
by being given the crafts
kept hidden and secret for so long
by a priestly class...
it's not a crisis of Christianity:
it's a crisis of literacy:
the ******* idiots walked into that one
on the blind...

the priests used to be the literate ones...
but now?
everyone is literate:
but as literate as their literacy mistakes show:
too throw: not to soon: my son...
but yeah:
throw into the mix the unearthing of
the Nag Hammadi library...
as R.D. Laing
opened a book with... citing St Thomas:

Jesus said to them:
when you make the two one, and
when you make the inner as the outer
and the outer as the inner and the above
as the below, and when you make
the male and female into a single one,
so that the male will not be male
and the female not be female, when you
make eyes in the place of an eye,
and a hand in the place of a hand,
and a foot in the place of a foot,
and an image in the place of an image,
then shall you enter the Kingdom...

mischievous ******* *******...
because what Socrates said was a dialogue:
you couldn't turn that into a religion...
how much dialogue do you get
in the Bible?
how much dialogue in the Quran?
so someone is always: just listening...
taking orders...
what about a back-and-forth?

too much sport created this rift!
too much sport on t.v.!
the averages came out and out-performed
other averages and disappeared
or will soon disappear into oblivion
out of sheer respect for the roulette of life
the chance to excel
but not milking it... that's what Olympians
ought to represent:
not some celebrity stature of being
like children given candy
these people and money are like children
and candy... sugar rush of no poetic justice...

it's still Jesus trying to revamp the Genesis story...
the serpent on the tree
the tree just morphed into a crucifix
and the apple became a wine soaked loaf of bread!
**** me! that's it!
hey presto, job done.

Revelation 16:15: i like my Salem Christian wife of a brothel Huck Tua!

the ego thinks: supposedly:
sometimes the thoughts we don't want to think,
ergo being is devoid of ego
therefore:
there's no therefore...
Duplantis jumped a world record
of 6.25m
and i said Huck Tow-ah
instead of Hawk Tuah...
as in:
i'm pretty sure there's going
to be more where
this linear star movements has
come from:
i was sleeping: i saw Michael...
then i saw Michael become
human and spend his time being
all gay in armor
in clothes:
why was Michael cross-dressing
nakedness with
conciseness...
hmm...
******:
i fell asleep again
and lo! behold
my tongue went missing,
was missing:
some ***** cut it off!
i heard the story!
she turned it into a spernet
on a tree with an apple
and a gimmick
Eve was the first larynx: the vowels
of ****** and O
i'll still blame her:
because she likes to play
the hide and seek
i'm the bad boy and she's the good girl:
she literally likes this elevation
of hide and seek
with: you're a bad boy and i'm
a good girl... nudge nudge wink wink....
*** can be such
a toy...
a toy of toys...
*** is the toy of toys...
*** is where we finally meet
and child-like
we play
we sort
we make toy from toy and from toys...
this is our playground:
it's not art faking staged
opera or theater:
this is fuckery on Kauai...
and i can feel the Vulcan: tension...
i'm not going to reclaim:
i'm going to claim what isn't mine...

i promised myself i'd last
until the images stopped coming
and words were
becoming complicated:
i.q. tested:
fudge: custard-brain...
i did a stint of that at NVQ level 3
and it was still not my
BSc in Science...
they gave me a Science degree
rather than a Chemistry degree...
i was supposed to specialize in chemistry:
that's what the Labor politics guided
me towards:
you don't get to choose your subjects
at high school:
no... somewhat:
not so much:
i was guilty of lying:
that i didn't speak a second language:
so i was put into the retards
and misfits and class of literacy...
writing your CV dumb-***...
i waited...
i waited...
i'm the dumbo: umb oh?

         i was supposed to have learned
German in high school!
instead they put me into literacy class
and French!
now my tongue is back...
imagine: the serpent as described:
back in the confines of the alcohol
pulsating through it:
rather than blood..
or is that...
thank you:
i have my night guard
and now i have my teeth back: my Hamlet:
and now i have my tongue...
the serpent of Eden:
thank you very much...

who would say a dragon lies?
does Smaug: lie?
or is he the one who sees
past you seeing...
do i, lie?
now that i have my tongue back in my mouth
i can live this life: of dream!
i can finally see through the excited truth:
that there was a me and a young Socrates
occupying the same predicament:
without time:
to be without time in a shared space...

because if you cut a dragon's tongue
while he sleeps...
the tongue will splinter
and give you a Y of the serpent....
a snake...
if: you cut my tongue off when i sleep:
but since you
sliced my tongue off while i slept...
i still haven't reclaimed my tongue
to be the ****** Orator:
this is the first incarnation:
there will be three...
i am the thought:
that becomes the speech:
that becomes the people...

   you cut off my tongue while i slept:
no wonder it turned into a snake:
why not a crocodile?
i was waiting:
the meteor breath the dinosaurs
now the dream of the dragon...
you had, the *******, audacity:
to cut: my tongue off...
while i slept?

so what happens to the tongue...
apparently it has a mind of its own...
and speaks its own per se:
like Odysseus with the Sirens
and Pandora with a Box of Schizophrenia...
but you cut off the head
of Medusa
and what does the Necro-Medusa head do?
magically wakes back into life!
the proof of the existence of soul
resides in Medusa's Head!

TODLEBENKOPF!
Medusa is dead yet her dead head
has all the powers of being alive!
ergo? Medusa proves that there's life
after death!
Joy to Hellas!
the Olympics: Paris is more beautiful
than London:
as testimony to the ****:
let's... bomb... can't nuke that ******* yet:
if only the Nazis nuked London
instead of those two forgetful names
of Hiroshima and Nagasaki...
if the Nazis nuked London: wow!

confetti dream...
          let's conflate:
i admire ****** like Mongolians
admire Genghis Khan..
am i a ****?
don't the French admire Napoleon?
who's to be admired in England?
venerated?
do i see four kingdoms:
what came of the empire can return
to the unifying processes of kingdoms
and four kingdoms can re-emerge:
no?

i can lay claim to a Dis- Kingdom...
the Kingdom:
and there can be equal share of fight:
hello world: sort of... invited?
and the Welsh and the Scots and the Irish
and the: quasi-Germans: immigrant Saxons...
can lay their claim:
but i'm a tourist with a Russian drinking habit
and i'm not going anywhere: impromptu...
so: hey presto: chomata

clearly you wouldn't have: dared!
to guillotine my tongue:
from my body:
you walked past graveyards of my teeth:
and you imploded:
with guilt:
with shame:
so innocent:
picked a fruit from a tree...
and there was some serpent...
you: stole from me!
THIEF!

you have woken me up: later i will tell George:
who is not a St. Michael Trans Activist:
i kept George where Milton never dared...
George is...
angel?
i am storm! i am ridicule!
i am wreath of moon! i am inheritor!
i don't think! i have no pleasure in thinking
as once i did likewise i have no pleasure in music:
just to avoid traffic conjectures...

George isn't a Saint!
George was an Angel!
just like Michael was an angel
until they turned him into a ***** wielding
profanity of where wings ought to be:
******* ruin:
half a stock-broker half a gambler:
images of sword replaced:
now i see my tongue:
and Michael is just plain confused
next in line to be redeemed for his sins...
ought not angels
think of nothing
when in the presence of god?!