oak and solemn foot: intrinsic in all its deviations
from the footstep:
such rooting in purpose
this breathing schematic of inanimate formulae...
replaces concern for good
such that the concern has replaced concept
and i'm so lazily obstructive from performing
the basic intricacies of identifiable processes:
language of this sort of intricacy is no necessary
it obstructs it
what once was project veritas
now becomes project vitalis...
but not enough people are alive
to quest for A beginning with Q
questioning intelligence: prompts
i feel this cruel condescending average of my own
and everyone else's humanity
and it's a wish to cultivate out of spite and spasm
but it's not that this: this: i will readily make
all this solemn growth of a sickness that
has limbo in a pendulum guise...
       such little flickers of sweat and sweetness
because i am this grey demonic
understudy of competitions that... O what the hell:
it's not so much as it is so little
and so little as it is so much...
             i am the burden of a grey light that
wants nothing more than to gobble down a grape
and wants reimagining it the size
of a watermelon...
        this cruel crux of a self-satisfying progeny
by now words are like peacocks that find
not monstrosity of the rigid fuel of the fueding few
but all this grandiose sidestepping guillotine of
sh-          -ort
        and                  glass... furnaces of oops
and ahs...
                        because by now poetry is a Limbostan
or the quenching of thirst without a:
a splendid afternoon all sun drizzled and i'm
having a picnic of panic attacks
next thing i know i will curl into a foetal ball of sorts
and disappear and my disappearance will
be like a pneumatic blindness...
                         and that will be my zenith gravity
till i fall like a forehead guised
in augmentation of prayer and
all will stand received without a hindering...
or some other... that i failed for the 2nd 3rd and 4th
and other obvious times...
that somehow evil will usurp my minor flaws
and exasperate them and call them total...
that good will be this puny imp
and evil some other exterior
born more noble born with the truest reality
such licking of the wounds
is like having no wounds at all.

taki to byl
Tuwim
i Zydo Polok...
i ta nieba
gleba
i czasza:
i K
         pierwszy
krol...
   to hidden
to Zyto
Rzyt  MOZE
is MORZE
i REJNBOL...
    to kurva nosze!

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!