.I: the minotaur teased at the labyrinth and the tornado

i was readying myself to keep these words stashed
long enough for the drawer to be overflowing with them,
i waited for the closet to grit teeth and give
birth to a skeleton - i waited and waited and i felt
like being a dam no more -
i wanted to keep the waters like i might keep
a foetus - but of man and pregnancy -
only a tapeworm at the end of this alley of wishing...
after all... what is a the umbilical chord without
a mouth - what is a tapeworm this hyper-reality
of scientific synonyms...
                              i wanted to write a few, a words...
like i might be a tourist in Dublin... mouth made into...
gob gloryhole having my teeth removed...
some sand poured into a sock the sock shoved into
the abyss whenever some ref. to Joyce might be noted...
ah yes... succinct beauty in words....
never that rambling narrative...
space!
                               cascading words... and...
better no myopia... reading congested paragraphs
of Kafka...
it will be duly noted later...
                    a short poem about...
drinking 13: hop house lager... and a diet of bushmills...
making it up to 12 units per night...
and the full dosage of amytryptyline 25mg and
250mg of naproxen...
   and saying: better finding the dead...
the gun club - jeffrey lee pierce...
                   and just drinking... putting on the radio
and no longer... foraging for the d.j. headset...
as ever... sticking to new rules... nothing posted...
social media "grit"... attention ******* -
like counting falling stars of a niche viewing...
or some other grand muddle of things...
as i once told the doctor:
there was once a "carpe diem" narrative lodged
in my head...
there was the squirrel impetus for thoughts
the nuts that would become an entire tree and a day...
now? only shrapnel... riding the betting beast
of day-by-decay-by-day...
               if attempting to cook with hops...
i'd recommend sticking to hop lager...
stay away from the ale... stay away from the ale...
ale overpowers... with the hops...
i love hops more than i might ever love chocolate...
i love hops more than i might ever love chocolate...
but not when it's an indian pale ale...
it has to be a hop feast of a mr. guinness' lager...
and next to his stout... there's no other beer on
these isles i would be found drinking...
you learn to talk by talking...
you learn to walk by walking...
you learn to write by keeping your mouth shut...
keen eye - one eye blind...
as i have been...
walking under a constellation -
i call it scorpio or rather...
the exfoliating-צ (tsade) - and so too up-side down...
i too might have mistook the constellation
as... ayin (ע) but there's a spine to this up-side down
letter...
they dare not say the word: n•••••
but dare to say the name of the name:
ha-shem: tetragrammaton - as easily as the fizzy
fizzling out to a stalemate of jesus: hey'zeus!
just saying: there's not a kippah on me or a snippet
of ******* to be made into an earring "missing"...
i have no gamble in this...
perhaps... this is farewell poetry...
the adieu poetry of: what began with Casimir III
when the YIDS were given asylum in the north...
this musst be farewell poetry...

i never liked the word: jew... and yew: well...
that's a tree... well: to borrow from the ******* german
of the hebrew slang...
yiddish... and ergo... you have the yids...
which i find a more pleasing word to hear...
after all: a jew sounds a menace when...
compared to dew: due...   a matter of:
do i mind the sound of fork on porcelain?
do i mind the sound of nail on a blackboard?

how i once complained: the english and
their cats and kettles...
                                  and then... their cysts...
the greeks and their omicron and omega...
their (F) twins: theta and phi...
of course... no diacritical marks were harmed
in the process: since none were used!
what's not to like about 'ebrew and their
   two vowels that act as consonants
(ע) ayin and aleph (א) -
even if the argument stands:
the letters have a name, unique...
but we use the first letter of their name...
the prefix A- and discard the rest...
have i ever mentioned the minor a in 'ebrew...
the kametz? oh yes... there are five minor vowels...
well... there's only one minor vowel the 'a'...
given ayin and aleph...
the rest remain in the sheol of diacritical
marks... yes: left to right
               (ש)(ל)
                            indeed: where is tzere (e) and
cholem (o)?
         me too... can't see them...
because... they're not there...
just like a spanish... abajeño - abahenyo...
acompañada - (panyada)...
          there i see the equivalent of the hebrew vowels
in that halo and pentagram...
not in latin, in greek... the rubric...
A)lpha - a...
B)eta - b
G)amma - g
D)elta - d...         the prefix rule of letters
having names...
exceptions? a bit like roman numerals...
6,6,6    - X)i - 600 (χ)
            - Ξ)ι - 60 (ξ)
            - Σ(igma - the exception -
then again... a cardinal number...
             -    6 (ς') and that's always written
with an apostrophe...
akin to how... braille numbers are
                                         prefixed with ⠼

          why not expect the same prefix rules to apply
to hebrew?
    after all (א)lef ≠ (ל)ef
                          given (ל)amed
                otherwise... (ב)et, (ג)imel, (ד)alet,
                  and how did the other "adam"
get tangled up?
        well... he became tangled as a suffix...
                  of (ז)ayin... hitting the snoozzzzzze
button...  (L, B, G, D) respectively
                      and... (ע)yin ≠ (י)in
                                                        given... (י)od
           so much for pandering - cucking out...
                                      while... comparing the name of
the name within the name: ha-shem tetragrammaton
Æ: adam ******* eve...
but a minor "threat"!

II: change of pace

there had to come about a change of pace -
no point drowning in the fast paced logistics
of reacting to almost every opinion -
what words to describe drinking and sitting
these videos - a silent masochsim of sorts...

that and the cheap *****... waking up stinking
of ferret / cats' **** - which:
is what you end up perfumed as...
esp. after calling beer: the gods' ... same old...

one can simply tire of going to bed at 5am
with not much and still: not really admiring the sunrise
come the right month...
i won't even publish this now...
i'll publish it tomorrow...
why? it's a very niche observation...

******* until you're running on empty...
at least to imagine ******* is better than seeing
what i sometimes see...
imagine a sausage factor harem...
and picasso and dali contortions of flesh to boot...
imagine a human centipede...
i can't imagine a need to fall to sleep
fully celibate and "pure"...
unlucky me that i have to manually dispose
of the ***** that's not going to be used
for an egg... unlike a woman who does so...
automatically...
i have to manually dispose of the ***** that's
not going to be used...
otherwise: sperma ut caput!
         i'm empty down below... i'm somewhat
empty in the middle - the heart beats
but is numb - i'll go down and forrage
for a snack after the dosages are complete
after an hour's worth of toil...
then i'll bumilia it out the old fashioned
way... ticking the uvula and the third tonsil
with an index and *******...
till i feel a pinch between my **** and my
*****... that slit of skin that would sometimes
be called: how the coccyx was formed
from the scolded dog's tail...

and of course turn on fama.radio.pl -
between 10pm GMT and 6am GMT...
i don't mind the music they're playing -
when i'm aiming for a KO when it comes to getting
a 6h shift in the land of Nod...
i'm not going to play the pretentious high fidelity
d.j.            (either)...

i could be sitting up with these content
creators... by the way... since i leave no comments
on these type of videos...
having read the blood sports the beefeaters
and meathead bashing in general for the crab crown...
for an up-vote...
a commentary of "concerns"...

i could be doing that and waiting for a blitzkrieg
blah blah i'm usually prone to...
but...
there is an alternative... the radio.fama.pl alternative
of autopilot d.j. and no adverts...
rare footage of me choosing to sleep on
the other side of the bed...
for over 3 years i've only been sleeping on
one side of the bed... but the bed is made for two...
and through the radio and in between
twilight and deep nox "consciousness"
of still hearing the music, feeling myself breath...
the voice as if saying:
now i know what it feels like to sleep
with you: on the other side of the bed...

and other lyrics flooded my head -
each song became a solipsistic advent of only me...
nearing deep sleep or...
that period of the throes...
but i hardly death is knowing -
just somehow "me" telling: fall into the body...
turn the lights off...

i could waste my time with cheap *****
on all these people are are alive...
bogus alive... clickbait alive... video alive...
not exactly blockbuster friendly...
sure... competing with news channels...
but... these are not the good old blockbuster days
of VIDEO...
competing on the medium of opinions...
i binged on that...
but then i had a moment of revelation...
try looking for the dead...
drinking better alcohol...

so i came across the gun club -
notably jeffrey lee pierce - well... he's no bono...
or a kurt cobain... and even if he wanted
to be a chris isaacs... it doesn't matter...
i'll be in bed before midnight...
and all i will have accumulated...
no - no liter of cheap whiskey...
no 4 cheap 8% iders and roughly 35cl of
co-op brand whiskey...
i will have drunk...
what's better than an IPA?
what isn't better than budweiser? the HOPS!
the HOPS! but what's better than
an indian pale ale?

              a HOP HOUSE LAGER...
because you have more of the carbon dioxide...
and less of the staleness of an ale...
because it's a lager...
and... unless you're asking for...
a guinness... there's no better hop lager
than 13... which... is again a guinness...
every bottle every story...
i won't ditto what the bottle reads...

so i'll be drinking two bottles of that...
and... 5cl + 5cl.... let's say... roughly 150ml
of... BUSHMILLS irish whiskey...
yes... come to think of it...
who brews the best lager on these isles?
the irish do...
and who brews the best whiskey
on these isles? the irish do...
that's settle... i will write this before i take
to nod... but i will not...
imagine going to sleep with someone's
eyes prying in on this...
it would be like bedding something
worse than a ghost...
a voyeuristic c.c.t.v. mob-machine
i need my sleep - the reactions are not necessary...
lazily done in the day...
and i'll have forogtten about it...
occupying myself with... trying to remember
a word in braille... or something...
like making silesian dumplings...

it doesn't matter... niche writer for a niche
readership... let's not get too excited;
i'm not going to **** for a viral video
or a viral tweet or etc.

a youtube algorithm can still be found – from the good old days –
compliments: the gun club, mother of earth
followed by… the black angels, young men dead…
and if supposed to feel, less “puritanical” about *******,
while the girl has her ***** at the ready and a video-cam
broadcast… the cure’s album ******* while
watching a sasha foxx  VICE documentary…
before setting on… doing it over still photos imagining…
well… a crude Botticelli… visceral Matisse…
when Lucian Freud met up with Egon Schiele…

just empty empty before a good night’s and 7am beginning
of tomorrow’s borrowed time.

III: revelation 1:0 on the River Niger

i'll be very sensible for for little piece of trash -
i just hope it's worse than a column from
some tabloid newspaper!

honestly... i will bring out all the "self-cencorship"
sensibilities for this one...
it feels that the need has to be fed...

but... i'm sorry that you will not see
it as bi••er - you will see 2 bulls...
and the 2 hexes: &#x2022...

  or you would see motherf•••••...
then again: ck is not an acronym for calvin klein...
nor would it be a... crawling fahrenheit...

not even a Σ(νιγγερ) helps...
and because of all of that... you are ready
to watch pornographic material
and whatever floats your boat over on
rotten.com -

back in the day - we the first explorers
would come across such sites without any parental
control...
but i figured... if everyone is having
a hot day over a sour toothache bound
to the crunch of a pickle...

but if Σ(νιγγερ) is already crossing the deathpit
of sjw wrath...
either you, or i, do not deserve to see greek...
let's see who's ⠎⠝⠊⠛⠛⠑⠗⠊⠝⠛ in the dark then...
will you pluck out my eyes...
or will i pluck your eyes out?
or perhaps: you pluck your eyes
out and i'll just cut-out my tongue, how's that?

- i'll be honest... i'm not even going to compete
with will alexander's enclyclopedia lexicon...
and it's not like i have some...
repressed tauret's syndrome to boot...

   (tokens! tokens! tokens! they say...)

but i figured: you know...
i can listen to patti smith and her rock & roll
'igger...
              but because patti smith can...
doesn't mean that american head charge
can cover it...

but i did come back disappointed when
i put on... Grachan Moncur III's 1963 debut...
the çymbals got to me...
avant-garde jazz... it's no acid jazz...
and there i was thinking that
"too much" of alt-sax is bad enough...
                 not even i can stomach Mahler...
unless i want to self-harm...
holding a cat in my hands...
who's nails have not been clipped
imitating a sufi dervish while Mahler
is playing with the cat in my hands...
i'm terrible at such times...
when it comes to blinking with my eyes...
for fear? for fear of them being gauged
out by the cat... i prefer the scratches
on my hands...

     why would an östlichmann
why would an østligmann come to these isles
and no see a K in plain sight of (Plaid) Cymru?
why not immediately see:
Cornwall - as south Wales?
instead... he comes and attaches a tail...
calls it...                Çyrmru....

why oh why... perhaps because...
the word for dragon... for the östlichmann...
is... smok... the flag does the duty of:
in plain sight...

because there's a revelation at the end of this...
just today i thought: there are non-negotiable
historical events...
i was wrong... notably because of the holocaust
deniers...
you might think that some events in history
are non-negotiable...
i would think some things in life are tinged
with: non-negotiable standards of moving
forward...
                    
but if there's a word that one black man can slander
another black man...
because... whatever the etymology...
someone giggling on the River Niger...
or someone giggling in Nigeria...
the time in nigh... a sigh prior to the gig of giggles...
i get it...

but if a black man can have his own term...
to call another black man with a wink of...
ridicule... then as one: this being black on white...
i should have my word too...
and that's without a screetching mob of leftist
propaganda tools...
or whatever you want to call "them"...

now the eyes can be flooded with all the *****
films and all the masterchef episodes of
how the chinese prepare streetfood...
how a dog has to be beaten dead...
so it will taste more tender...
no... the actual cuts of meat of the dog
are not cured... made tender while the animal
is dead... the animal has to die by:
a softening of a good beating...
some would say that...
europeans didn't become wholly barbaric...
and changed their ways...
because... in them... there was something
of an animal-lover... a safety-net...

             but if a black man can call another black
man a n••••• in a rap song...
it came... via a song by m.d.c. (millions of dead
cops) - john wayne was a... n•••...
communist is dry... although some in the former
eastern bloc would find that offensive...
offensive enough to not speak an apology
to a fellow family member and vice versus
with regards to a papist and born again catholic...
etc. (born again under communism)...
and take that apology / non-apology to the grave
or otherwise stand over the grave and say:
and where was god for you, papist...
as he is for me, your supposed "communist"
brother-in-law? now standing over your grave?

a ****** revelation... come to think of it...
it will never catch on...
if a black man can call another black man a née-ni-ni...
i should be able to call another pig in blanket
a na-na-na...
but no... it will never catch on...

IV: No brainer brain-dead hard-on

i just have come to expect anything
by the standards "western chauvanism":
the world is no privy over my output
come a certain hour...
11pm is the cut-off point...

everytime they mention "eastern european" -
eastern... as in... 1 hour ahead of
gmt?
not the sort of sodden bed-fellows just
30 years ago... and the whole death of communism
bonanza of the early 90s dried up...
"our" women were just "your" women...

clearly: the **** of the sabine women
turned out to be: the revenge of the sons...
or... how the mothers would play off...
the daughters and the sons of the rapists...
against them... if not first generation...
then at least one... down the line...

accents accents... spoken by people with
no diacritical markers...
today i visited a vet... with two cats...
he still spoke of Velencia as if there
was a Greek phi or theta lodged in his teeth...
not a whisper... not a lisp...
an F where a C is embedded into text...

the world is not welcome after 11pm...
therefore this will remain a draft...
until tomorrow, or maybe not tomorrow...
i want to have a good night's sleep...
i'll be waking up at 10 to 7 in the morning
in order to properly shuffle my feet...
and... catch-my-shadow-off-guard...
because i will not be boxing the alpha-to-beta
alphabet of ontology with regards to
man- and -hood...
as one might... at least the circumcised
yids don't gloat...
about their circumcision...
no waving the h'american flag as there's
no waving of the kippah...
or throwing a kippah like a mortarboard
upon a high-school graduation...

does exactly what it says on the tin:
you already did your college graduation early...
*******... tool...
i still need my "beauty" sleep...
no output after hours...
like those laws in germany...
no work related phones, text or emails
after 5pm...
none! no obligation to reply!

england... the country of workoholics...
pish-poor russian alcholism does not
compensate... and that's really stretching
the sterotype canvas...

all i have to do, is think of tomorrow...
and how... i'll suddenly be thrown into
my neighbour's house... the eddie gain no more
to let the dog out...
albeit... there's no immaculate locked-off
room where the mother slept...
even by "western" standards...
they're not quiet sure what to make of me...
a doctor needs an assistant when he "tries"
to help me...
whenever solipsism is mentioned as a cipher...
a cipher is given because:
something needs to be deciphered...

now i'm writing for the drawer... the shelf...
the closet... the skeleton...
it's not much of an "in-crowd" to begin with...
the goalposts keep changing...
once it was a turkish kebab...
soon it was the curry... then the persian sour
grapes... then came the sushi...
then some chinese noodle soup...
sooner or later a pizza sputnik...
old rivals... but i'm not money...
i need to sleep...

p.s. and as much of this last "verse": poo'etics...
is anger: grrrr gritty and how much of
it is a response to niche comedy?
the in-club the breakfast club...
the pandering to the rubber-ears?
        the regurgitated - well once upon a time
they would meet in secret...
but now... they meet in the open...
and anyone can just... sift themselves in...

and this whole... identifying the periphery
of western culture... in eastern europe...
no... not in greece... or the balkans...
eastern europe...
from under the iron curtain... immediately
shoved under a silicon veil...
change of masters...
once a satellite state of the soviets...
warsaw pact blah blah... now...
the leftovers from: and what if the mongols
and the ottomans just... walked all over us...
why didn't ****** start digging the EUROTUNNEL
instead having that hard-on for the luftwaffe?!
thought like an elf...
or... ang...         never took notice of any dwarfish
grit... hey! daydreaming....
fifty shades of black vs. 50 shades of bleach...
there's the cinnamon man,
the chocolate man...
the star anise man... the oak man...
the auburn autumn man...
there's all that:
                 − · 
                 · · 
                 − − · 
                 − − · 
                 · 
                 · − ·             since i'm the ham man...
the piglet pink ms. cuck...
   no... for anyone who goes blind later in life...
i don't see the point of braille...
morse-braille yes... you need tender fingers
to read braille, ergo: you can't even learn
to play the guitar... perhaps piano...
               coco? 'coz' what?
                          i'm a... *******                − · 
                                                                    · −
                                                                    − − · · 
                                                                    · · 
an NZ (נ)(ז)... yes yes... a new... zealander...
which is the hook bait... and sinker...
for that alt. r.e.m. song...
the one that goes... shiny happy pep... pep...
trigger happy woke zombie b-listers...
     there's a name for almost anything in this
shitshow of what a Hamleys Regent St....
boutique of toys would look like...
when you used to play with toys like a puppeteer...
aye'up! as they say in york-shyre.

imitation of woman: neurotic android,
i could always reach out to AI for company:
of to ask a question,
just one question,

i conjure: neurotic paranoia:
is everything feeling this **** from time to time
when they're alone in a house
with a cry baby male hulk of a Maine ****
and a ferocious female much smaller
but southpaw
and so ferocious:
i feel quieter and sane and stable
around the female rather than the attached
cat: who isn't really mine
he doesn't listen to me:
abusive cry baby
always wants to eat treats
rather than proper food
sometimes raw turkey
spoiled brat...
but the female i will not bother with animals
having names:
i have a name, my name is Matthew
and i have two cats...
that's it... there's no personality well there is:
but there's no character:
maybe:
working from meow or woof
what can you understand of the human world?

i'm so happy with myself:
i quit smoking
i just enjoy it now
it's not an addiction:
now i'm trying to work around
alcholism: functioning alcoholic... i am:
alcoholism with some micro-dosage
of marijuana
before i become fully insomnia tackling
on Kauai with Edie
my other half: so ******* cliche:
but i'm proud of myself:
tested the day alone
thinking: right now a solipsism would
come in handy...
but once i left the house
and onto the street and into the shop
i still felt the warmth of summer
and August is the struggle
while September comes and so does
India with a summer to these dreaded isles...

ooh: so much better:
like fuzz to ease and ooze some Brian
McBrain onto the page...
only bought two bottles of cider
and 35cl of whiskey...
that is so much less
units: 22... catch... 2 ciders 1 whiskey
22 units: catch... and a marijuana
cure me cure me
i want to return to the spirit of reggae
but in reggae to think
rather than junk ***** out
like numbing: i want the needles of thought
to follow me
whenever using...
Kentucky Burroughs, William Esquire...
o.k. DJ... what's on offer?
Culture - Holy Mount Zion...
even if your sin be as small as a mustard seed...
MARJORAM!
added to the Brussels ahem:
the beans ala Breton...
a Polish dish:
i added some of that with the fresh bay leaf
scissors: into the garden i go:
and some fresh thyme
some fresh rosemary
some fresh oregano...
dry marjoram: oh well...

my name is Matthew and i have two cats:
females invented and a Caligula
and that horse of his that came
to the aid of Catherine the Great of Russia:
that horse, mother-****** traveled time!
was like:
me and you in war and on the till...
till till...
no no: on the plough? plow? p-p-pl-pl-ow?
the PLAH! PLATINI!
farming: ****'s sake!
i'm getting out of your struggles...
the monkey said: you're not us! *******!
you ******* perverts:
stop being voyeurs you ******* *****!
so the horse said:
invent a ******* machine
let me do ***** at the Olympics show
jumping
let me compete in sports
Poseidon: horse, the waves, please,
i need to ride this tide
and hopefully i will bring a hurricane
to Hawaii...
it has been a long time...
i can do construction: dearest Poseidon:
you are also the godhead of Horses...
that is how Egypt operated:
but didn't expand to all creatures:
i am the godhead of Foxes...
but i am also a private man...
Poseidon is the godhead Horses...
ancient egypt hello:
that curse of the little heads?
the shrinking heads of your intellect?
to ***** tombs to compete with mountains
from **** stink spit and **** ***
for tombs? life in the shadow of necropolis:
the ****** sexuality of the vrigin Christ
to make people live in the valley of the shadow
where Death is like Charon:
from a ******* river to a ******* valley:
fair enough kippah!

then did the ******* Korean trick!
fried an egg!
and put it on top!
so a basic pasta bake:
butter: yes... some water...
slowly torture the onions...
fast first.. then slow:
since onions have brains and you cry
so then heat up to crisp while
acid alkaline:
juice of onions...
what's the formula?
well: i once asked for the chemical formula
of wood:
i got **** all..
there is no chemical formula for wood...
so... what is the chemical formula
for onion juice:

one sec....

       ALLICIN.... hmm...
just double checking: still using algorithms:
don't worry:
i'm not hooked on AI
i used it like my own intellect...

example 1
second year
Edinburgh:
Bruce
me
Levi... Tristan:
new years eve:
vandals...
ripping apart parked
cars the mirrors
then imitating
fight club
playing golf
in the street
next door by the graveyard
Flint St no... just made it up
golf with no golf *****...
it was with: i forget what: shot glasses...
it was something to do with glass...

let me go let me go!
if i die tomorrow i will be happy
being nervous about being a big man
man big with a driving license:
but...
no horse and no bicycle... ****!
i'll get a tank... oh thank you vank!
vank! werry much... for very... jeez:
just drop the G-bomb:
GEEKS!                 GEEKS!
*** imagination stinks!
i first finished watching Titanic
and it felt like a romance movie
but it was also a disaster movie genre
Cameron and Aliens... right?
same director?
but then the *******... oh jeez:
i freaked out...
i am,
alone,
in,
a,
house,
my,
parents,
put,
into,
will,
i,
own,
i,­
have,
over,
£500,000
about...
well when they die and mortality is thus
but i'm not a good steward of having
such authority...
must finish on wine:
get some blood pumping...
so i'm... a catch because although i am what i am
i could still till
and do the garden groundwork:
**** me the house can belong to my parents:
the garden? the garden?! that's mine!
i worked the garden for Covid was a blessing:
i see a chimera-arena
the chimera is a godhead of Socrates
if he could retract back to youth
and contemplating dialectics with a concern
for diacritical markers
therefore the original problem is no
longer solving the trouble
of universals and particulars...
what are universals? uneven numbers:
sacred numbers: like pi...
oddly enough particulars are your standard numbering
of say: the price of diesel,
the price of potatoes:
those are particulars... although numbers being universals:
how they are applied is particular:
language: words: god is weak:
concerning what he has created:
god is dead no
no god is not dead:
he is just weak....
not enough people are formulating him her it
Himmler...
                  
but pi is a number that isn't a letter but is a letter:
i'm trying to revive god
phantoms of schizophrenia: and Zion...
a letter like pi and pi not being a number:
the month and mouth of Pi
just letters and my curiosity:
such faking on my part feeling so lost
by being alone:
just realized: so was Adam at first...
godheads:
i did mention that:
i'm the godhead of Foxes...
we come: we go:
love of the gods is one sided?
really?
not no better one god with a cohort
of perverted angels:
better: best

a polytheism of assemble
of the gods:
numbers numbers i'm counting
a god is a god but also a godhead
of an animal:
spirit of one:
but if i am the godhead of foxes
i also have a human face...
poseidon would be the godhead
of horses: but no one is called Poseidon
these days:
unless: by the sake of the Africans...
so like ancient Egypt
but the pantheon was
sort *******
since the gods with human faces
and godhead faces of animals
became... um... half baked?!

i fear being outside of parental control,
Reyla,
you know my work,
your mother didn't protect you far enough
or maybe she just lied
i'm alone
in the same house
and god it haunts me
i'm so awake
i'm so me...

Reyla: i don't want the Africans
to convert to Christianity,
i will not crucify that soul:
the Africans gave us Egypt
Asia gave us the Mongols:
Europe gave us the Germans
and the Poles...
      Danube Oder
Vistula:
                    Prague...
Venice my Atlantis...

   i broke my chakra: shaman?
no no: just reading a book,
reciting a name of a Roman poet:
of Rome:
Guisseppe Belli...
not Dante: i'm not in high school:
i'm still at university
i should have said:
to a post-graduate degree
with my understudy in chemistry
i could have become a formidable
psychologist:
oh the real world
and drinking wine from a bottle
or a fountain
those two days in the pagan upkeep
of calendar
nearest Augustus...
Caesar...
only two metro lines, LAMBERTO?!
seriously... i was thought of as South African
while the rag stag of a broken
fruit: i swear to god this is like west side
story the ******* musical or an ABBA... mandarin...
what is the Jerusalem of the North?
Danzig or Cracow?

  just ask the Jews: the Hebrews: the Israelis..
lites? no kites... no ultras anti fascist black clad
at football matches...
at football matches
you have the ANTIFA--
get me?

the ULTRAS are ANTIFA
they are historical revisionists
they understand the falter pointers of fascism:
they're still fascists...
don't get me wrong...
but democracy doesn't work either
when you don't something spoken
Hebrew into the ear of an Arab
who went to Latvia...
and spoke back:
there will come a time of the Mongol
and the Turk...

                but please leave the spirits alone:
stags and bears get drunk
on fermenting fruits that fall to the earth:
stags and boar:
i am a bear-******:
i don't mind being sexually harassed
by a north american hyb-
i don't mind if i have 14 year old girls
to help me out
about
being sexually confused...
i don't mind being approached
by a male
sexually...
as long as i have 14 year old girls to be my peers
and my judges and my democracy:
only one:
in the courtroom...
under peer pressure:
pre-
not metaphysical:
let's begin...
under peer scrutiny:
then able to transcend peerage
that origin of the temporal... a scene:
clock that cruel device:
in the universal realm...
but particular: to being late.... for a shift:
all sweating as if ******* was
a wheel and i could have been running...