there are two types of whiskey,
there's the chockey
famous grouse,
which i once "tamed"
as a gouse,
and then there's the smoked
solomon, sorry,
salmon,
equivalent to bell's...
as there is also an attempt at
humour...
because what did i do while
in kenya?
****, slept in the open on
a beach resort throughout
the night,
kept myself chasing shadows,
pretended to be a tourist
with the italians,
ping-ponged with the germans...
wrote a
mediocre story addressed to
my grandfather
about an elephant dunking
its trunk into a bottle of *****...
and?
just lounged on a balcony
with a macaque monkey or two,
feeding with satchets of sugar,
telling the grounds keeper
when a pirate baboon became
audacious... shouting:
hey! sling shot that *******
leech, attached to a whale,
there, here, whereever!
get off my baboon!
which sounds as ridiculous
as wearing a top-hat...
aren't kenyan girls pretty
though?
i can compare them
to, something the falling of snow
in england, notably essex...
that paraphrase of glee...
****, just thinking about
it makes me want to rewatch
braveyard... woah'd! 'n'
blue... ******* picts...
but you know how a kenyan
girl's skin glees, when not oiled
and how the snow in england
also shows?
****, jump into the indian
ocean
and wreck your hand on a coral
protrusion...
imbediment,
hell, several nouns later,
digested by a thesaurus...
me, climbing into a zoo cage with
a gorilla makes more sense
at this point,
with me replying:
let's throw **** at the cage bars
together...
because? frankly?
i'm way past practising judo
with you.
hey... way better:
let's play pope!
****** couldn't tell whether i
was blinking, playing darts,
or whether i was actually blind...
but hey... 'ere come the shades...
yet the greasy, brown,
buttocks of mombasa,
dust and prayer, scuttling hundreds
on their bare feet making
the sand a worthwhile grind
tool... as if: and it was walked on,
prior to you, prior to you, prior
to you, and prior to you...
macaque monkeys on a balcony
fed sachets of sugar
with a white boy lounging
bewildered by:
there's no impetus for me
to craft a cage...
hell, that was me...
and there was also a muhammad
who wanted to invite me
to his crocodile farm....
boots, boots is all i heard...
oh far gone the snapper,
just a shoe industry...
first time i witnessed
a woman in a pool swimming in
a burqini...
a bit like teaching
a child in his pyjamas being
taught to stay afloat...
napkin, two colour
suite... bam!
a table clotch pulled from
beneath all the table attire,
and no church bell ringing.
i'd love to climb into a zoo cage
with a gorilla these days... why?
dunno...
just feels appropriate to
feel like meat these days...
after doing a ******* in
and then "having" to meet her son...
or like pulling a black girl,
going back to her home,
with her thugging her children
of her bed,
her imitation of a ******
by clasping her legs together
ensuring i'd shoot, but not aim...
and then the poor afro ******
waking me in the night,
and me, having to grab him,
with touching bodies
laying him onto myself?
listen,
i was sleeping, and he was
just ******* on an imitation
of a ******... where was i going to
put him?!
sure, afro, frizzly hair,
unfortunate how
***** translate on both
face, head, and ***** region...
now i know why
growing ****** hair has become
so intimidating to women...
kenyan women are beautiful though,
like peering at snow
in england in the night...
a sight of illumination,
seemingly oiled, but not really...
all you need right now...
is an oyster, and a tongue.