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so he sings this song about watermlon sugar
but he signs it referring to strawberries

i spent the entire day in bed
unable to move
from a simple wordy
nuance like a plague in the English speaking
world
the etymology of
SNIGGER and BIGGER
and Slav and Slave
like we were the people known
for Slavery not not repelling
the Mongols
or how the Prussians weren't
Germans but these Baltic Pagans....

though
thought
GHT hides
the letters G and H
like TH is ALSO VO
because it bothers me
this literate anomaly
ono-
i see language under the dark
kingdom with
a shining crown
of the eye plucked by Odin
having its own name
its own domain
and the third crow
that i Dream....
i see the night and the constellations
of dreams imprinted
for some in orbit
recurrent like the unconscious
wasted upon the reflex
and not the deep sinker reflect
reflex is a sprint is lifting weights
is gynmastics is football
is the colliseum...

that wine and water and blood
be united
in Christ...
i will have to add the fire water
of ***** into this mix
where there is blood and ink
and wine
soon will be water ***** and air
and i come from the great wind
and these words are my own
like Moses came from fire
i come from air
and where does Muhammad come from
female intellect
and male inhibitions
who wrote the Quran if not the first
wife of Muhammad
the Elder
she was a ****....
i mean....how do you devolve from being a man
with an older wife
one who allows you to bypass
all the psychological burdens of fatherhood...

is Slav and Slave so close
as to
and too?            is that how close? ******?!
who said ****** was not a drum
and beat
and heart and free Africa making a joke
of a continent that's already
a funnel a ******
something wicked and fair....
Dzin DzhinDhzin... James says Yes ah Yah....

she was eating a cherry
and her daughter was talking in the background
i have woman in her own
caste of soul...
a mother a lover a daughter a wife a sister in christ
because she is a Sister in Christ
and as her Brother in Christ
i will disagree with her....
as Brother and Sister we disagree about Christ
but she is mother
and wife

a Father is a Father
but God is Foreign Man....
i am to Reyla
this: God...
i'm not a man
by function to relate to her
as Father:
i am: what philosopher of the Icarus
persuasion and Herod and Napoleon
who made philosophy something
to wry and shy away from women
but then i'm what is philosophy
in Europe after the strife culminating in the thought
of the 19th century
and later the 20th century meat grinder:
mince mince mince mince Moloch! Moloch!

WOJSKO! VOYSKO! trzyma pana na gwalt...
siema! brygada kryzys!
ksyg ksyg gryz krzew i ogien...
i ten glupi: kurwa WIATR!

pisze od lewej do prawej...
ale kurwa mieszam
w kubku
lyzka....
od prawej do lewej
anty
anty kristos!

pisze "clockwise"
ale mieszam lyzka....
to ja widze co inni nie widza
jak ZYD!
tak widze! widze! slonia!
i malpe i konia zamiast barana i
rybe i dzika i byka
a potem:

widze swe zachowanie w Lacinie
na swych XTR liter mnoga!
Zyd u == i jego
liter ora:
tak te samo-gloski
widmo\
ja wiem: pierworotny!
ghost limps and limbs
and ghostly sensations of
the other senses:
notably that clamour
of taste
like whiskey tastes like
chococolate
and some other addition
makes up for strawberries...
*** has become so unhealthy of late
or late of almost forever
that when an exclusive act of man
corresponding to woman
and woman correlating to man
becomes the beyond of tiresome
almost horror lackey
    this toy of cherry testicles
and **** i can't imagine melons
i see clouds and cushions
and i see a super-massive octopus head
and splinter....
i see a **** i see a surf slurp of an oyster...
i see a kaleidescope of dreamy eyes
i see a squirting senstation
i see so much **** that unfucks all the *******
in Picasso's cubism...
because that's my wife being
more than all the ******* could never
establish...
i literally saw... so much *******
that unfucks all supposed *******
in Picasso's cubism that i can retaliate on
a reel: and no... western societal disinhibitions
and freedoms and subsequent
iron maiden underwear and whatever...
this ***** dodo maniacs of feminism eshew...
proud shrews...
       n'ah n'ah... women are gone solo so wong!
it's a wok and antler brrrr... breeze... ugh...
ugly ugly... ugly women!
or rather women without biological reality:
or narrative... like the worst Frankenstein:
they don't even want love!
at least that monster had some noble parrot
to paraphrase... these modern women
don't even know what love's eventual scrutiny entails!
female sequality is sterile
no wonder i misspell it: it's no longer sexuality:
it's a sequence of QX monstrosity genome
where once YX used to breed...
               Q replaced the Y and it's the designated plague...
the advent of the anaesthetic
and the prism of the circus of
anything being readily avaialble...
the sickness does not: repent;
no amount of psychoanalysis, days, weeks,
months or years later...
no amount of shifting the focus on ****
Germany either...
just this dulldrum grey reality: resurrected: forever.
nail and thumb
i  rux:
  rux:
crux....

SZPONY!

the eagle descended
into the tidy pillow
of the bear!

Hell made its Sway!
O wilt
and all My O
and this...
phew phew phew!
aren't the clocks going backwards
on their promises of cuckrels?
going back?
i stirr my cup of coffee:
anti...
i'm an antichrist
basic of hand movement:
i am the antichrist...
simple as stirring cup of coffee
anti
clockwise
being right handed
so i write from left to right
against the sun
i am the antichrist
in his most innocent
understanding
beyond politics
this is not
even half of what christ
ever was
or could or would be
or become...
i shouldn't have been
tortured by the Schizophrenic Inquisition
of the Intelligence Quotient
for Bilingual Study of Nations:
America should be a Bilingual beacon
a Spanish-English super Hulk power
hybrid a Nation to conquer the Universe:
the Anglo-Spanish remedy:
an Agreement...
we have learned from the Prussians
the Swabians the Huss... the Swedes
the Mongols the Turks the Russ
and Vikings... now a flavour Islam like Tutti-Frutti:
not drinking but ghost limb
diabetic!
sugar ******* ghosts of diabetes...
whiskey? 11am? don't mind if i do...
to me

i have come to the conclusion that... on the basis of basic
hygiene...
cutting one's fingernails can be
as exhilirating as brushing one's teeth:
i call them the furry teeth, in winter...
because i only brush them at the start of the day
with paste
but not so much come the night owl hours
where i only brush to lodge out the hitchhikers from
the grooves... mmm...
Jon Fosse's "slow prose" as an alternative
to J. Joyce's stream of consciousness is that:
it's not so much reading the next paperback bestseller:
it's a reading of slowness
it's the remedy of articulation within the confines
of punctuation... my current fetish, fantasy...
whatever you want to call it...
i think that i will leave England for one sole reason:
not the immigration debacle not
that the English have created a failed multi-culturalism
of ghetto this that and the other...
i will leave England crying because
of the English psyche...
not because of the immigrants...
every time i go back to the homogeneity of ethno etc
of Poland i feel a nausea: a post-existentialist:
re-existentialist nausea... the sea sickness without
sea without waves boat etc of the Sea of Nau...
and i know i will leave England
because: i just can't stand the English being
so ******* **** *****-prone pristine perfect
correct, correct... ******* correct and a shy shadow
of the American: let's make mistakes!
then correct them!
the English are the gimps of the English speaking
world and i don't know whether conquering
or establishing: whatever in favor of the Raj
the Indian class system worked in their favor:
but i just opened today's newspaper and beyond
half of Gen-Z would rather a dictatorship be working
in England than this fabbled, fakery of democracy:
where half say whatever they feel like
and half are not allowed to say what they, think!
but cutting one's fingernails is a bit like
brushing one's teeth...
i've managed to keep the thumb nail of my right
(thumb) hardened and pointy
like i might be a woman tending to:
funny: it's best to warm up the nails before cutting
under a stream of hot water
so that when you cut the nails
they don't splinter off and fly off into "somewhere"...
soften the keratin: like in hair: like boiling carrots
or beetroots...
hmm... Snoopy Dough and that funny Jewish
actor: but all Jewish actors are funny
even when the Brutalist is being compared:
but not being compared to the time it takes
to watch Ben Hur or Gone with the Wind...
so it's all funny
but unlike the Polacks: ethnonym:
i don't appreciate the exonym of Poles...
poles apart: flag on a Pole:
in American a ****** was supposed to be a slur:
it's actually the proper accurate ethnonym...
but thanks for the supposed tease or slurr...
well... i might call them Yids Hebs but Jew would also
implode by impying Jewel...
if only these brigadeers of literacy would
share their priestly wisdom amongnst us Gentiles:
but given that Christ had to be sacrificed in order
for Yahweh to gobble down the pantheon
of the Greek gods and the Norse gods:
yet somehow Allah was kept rigidly standing:
and that too: i feel that Muslims have no plight
no interest: no reality: in modernity...
i think they are delusional:
like a ****** might be delusional about the glorydays
of the Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth...

Poem
Inbox

Mateusz Elert <m.k.elert@gmail.com>
10:37 AM (11 minutes ago)
to me

The subconscious is not a petty domain
For the suspension of the ego in
Inhibitions of the superego
This realm of supra-consciousness
is a place of puddle dreams
Reflexive dreaming
Unlike the unconscious and reflective
Dreaming
With focus on symbolism and
The allure of the occult
But you only realise the existence of this
Realm when doing night shifts and
Trying to snooze...
You dream the most spectacular muddles
And that conflates even confiscates
The workings of consciousness
With proposals for: f(x): functioning...
With grammar and arithmetic:
Or rather syntax and arithmetic...
Syntax and memetics
Dreaming occurs in consciousness too:
Day-dreaming it's called...
So there are three tiers of dreaming...

Also the ingenious dynamic of "idle" gaming...unlike prior gaming to replace reading,the narrator-protagonist and self-identification dichotomy of author and reader... idle gaming is perfect for necessary, even unavoidable interests of waiting... maxed out at 30min time limit

The spirits need to be tamed, by cooling them... so they don't bite back... can't imagine drinking warm whiskey or *****...***** especially since it needs to be frozen, matured, beyond freezing since alcohol can't freeze, so it resembles a rich sugar syrup... whiskey is husky and i forced myself to support Millwall... well... simply because I, like, that, part of London... and it's association with Scotch dockers... and Edinburgh was a home fora while

Why do I feela might horn growing out of my occipus bone and almost tickling my forhead: where is this thirds a wifey?

How many symbols are there? Are they aligned with the vowels?
+
×
÷
-
=
        5!

So we have the basics!

Being right handed I stir my coffee anti-clockwise when I add sugar... so why would I read the time as going "forward" that is: "left" to "right" and now have a clock with a face

          

              12

3                          9

               6                  ?
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