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M/Victoria, Australia
Self-taught composer, tenor (opera, art songs, folk..) and violinist. A humanist. Basic words: love, humility, compassion, tolerance, humour. JOURNEY OF THE HEART, collection of 163 …
39/M/United Kingdom
chennai
Poet a dreamer dreaming of a peacefull happy caring world who hopes his words can cause a change
Poems
Mark Jun 2020
Yellow Tail Mouse Tale
Mark
Jun 2020
YELLOW TAIL MOUSE TALE
From the 9th diary entry of Stewy Lemmon's childhood adventures.
This week, I had the best surprise present since Christmas Day, when I received my new grouse pet mouse named, Smooch. But the surprise didn't come from my parents, Archie or Flo, for it didn't even come from my little brother Lemmy's mouth. It wasn't from the mouths of my two much older identical twin sisters, Emma and Jemma, either.
Believe it or not, it came from the mouth of my mouse, named Smoochy. Yes that's right, he does speak and he told me about his remarkable life story, since birth.
It began when, I was feeding him some of my Mum's delicious afternoon treat. Do you remember the one that I named, 'a colourful fruit-blast'? Smoochy said, 'wow!, I love your Mum's food, it reminds me of my Mums magical dessert creations, she used to make for me, before I came to live with the you and your family'.
I was gob smacked, when I heard Smoochy, actually having a conversation with me. I now knew 100%, that I wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, when I thought, Smoochy spoke to me. Just like the time on the seashore with the whale, and the fairy floss at the seaside resort named, Slipslopslap Bay. Also the time during the circus, while we were holidaying at the big top park circus, named Rolling River Retreat.
Smoochy, told me about his parents, who's names are, Slippy and Sloppy. He also said, 'that his birth name is actually, Poppy, but he didn't mind being called,Smoochy. His name I had given him last Christmas. He said, 'it's grouse for a mouse to have a cool nickname, in the world of humans'.
He also added, that in the animal world most creatures, don't even speak. Except for some mice, a parrot, and he was also led to believe, maybe even the odd Dolphin, swimming around the ocean.
Smoochy, told me, 'how he and his parents Slippy and Sloppy, ended up at the local pet shop, in my local village named, Shimmerdimmerlee, when he was only about 2 years old'.
Smoochy' said, 'that his parents, used to travel around the globe, with the very colourful and world famous circus troop name, 'Mr. Kazoontite's and his Marvellous, Magical, Mysterious and Musically Minded Misfits'.
They both used to appear in an act, with the circus's ventriloquist, who's stage name was, 'Mumbling Murray the Mouth of the South'.They would pop their heads out of his top, left and right hand side pockets, of his jacket, and pretend to speak in English.They could also speak, a bit of his native language called, 'Ogbogolo'.
When Mumbling Murray, opened his mouth and spoke, they would only be grinding their teeth together, to get the cheese out of the gaps of their teeth. But, the crowd thought it was funny, so they just kept doing it, for every act, over several years.
Then one day, my Mum was having a baby, it was me. So, I was born in a big top circus and was looked after, ever so well by my parents and all of the other circus workers. Then one day, Mumbling Murray had to go back to his home country, to look after his sick sister.
Mumbling Murray, had just finished the circus tour, near our village and decided he should take my parents and I to the local pet store. He thought, 'maybe they can be cared for, by a new loving family'.
While living in the pet store, we noticed, with utter amazement, a very colourful parrot, talking in English. So Smoochy's Dad, answered him back, and the parrot almost fell off his perch. He spun around, about 3 times in a row. He then yelled back to my Dad, 'did you say that'? Yes, I did indeed, replied my dad, with a very proud smile on his face. Wow, said the parrot, 'I thought I was the only non human, who could speak'.
Smoochy's Dad told the parrot, who's name was Polly, by the way, 'that he and his wife Sloppy, had learnt to speak English, from the ventriloquist acts performing with Mumbling Murray, the Mouth of the South, and the world famous circus troop named, 'Mr. Kazoontite's, Marvellous, Magical, Mysterious and Musically Minded Misfits'. They, in turn, taught their only son, Smoochy, mouse language. during the day and English at night, before he went to sleep.
As for my Mum Sloppy and her magical dessert creations she used to make for the family. It was the best mixtures of sweet and colourful ingredients anyone could ever imagine. She used to go looking for snacks that were left on the floor under the seating area after the end of each nights circus performance. She would find things like salted popcorn with a touch of butter, a variety of different coloured chocolate, Neapolitan ice cream, orange Jaffa's and an assortment of lollies. It was so fun eating it all in a large dessert bowl after our main meal.
Gee I miss those days and miss my mum and dad so much, Smoochy (Poppy) told me. So the next day I mentioned to my parents that I really need to go to the loc pet shop to get something really important for Smoochy. They said what do you need? Dad said I have built you a new pet mouse house for your grouse new pet mouse Smoochy and I even hand painted it with such colourful flair using my artistic nous.
What else does Smoochy need, asked my mum. I said it is something that everyone needs in life and can never be replaced. So my parents said ok, tomorrow morning we will go down to the village pet shop and try and find what is so important for you and your grouse pet mouse Smoochy.
Here we are Smoochy, at the pet shop that took you and your parents in a few years ago. Let's go and have a look for you mum and dad together. We saw slimy snakes, sticky spiders, floating frogs, flirting fish, droopy ducks and even timid turtles. Then all of a sudden we spotted several mouse houses.
Smoochy was quietly saying, "Hello mum and dad are you here", even I was yelling out, Slippy, Sloppy, are you here. Then Smoochy spotted his parents in a mouse house which was stacked up on the top of a shelf full of books, towards the back of the pet shop.
Hello son, how have you been and how did you and your new friend know we were living here? Smoochy told them that his new friend Stewy, knows that he can talk and I told him of my early years of life and what had happened to us all.
I then yelled out to my parents, "I've found what Smoochy needs, we have found his real parents right here in Shimmerdimmerlee's village pet shop. Mum and dad said ok, you can have the two much older mice, so Smoochy has a mum and dad like everyone should have in their lives, even though they aren't his real parents.
So back home we went and welcomed Smoochy's mum and dad, Slippy and Sloppy to their new grouse pet mouse house and even showed them dads unusually built and outrageously painted outback backyard shed.
It was a hot afternoon, so we also slid down the "Terrific Triple Tumbling Tremendously Turning Travelling Tubes" to the village pond and introduced Buck the Duck to Smoochy's mum and dad.
Smoochy and I have decided to keep his families secret to ourselves for now. It's ok that my mum and dad don't believe what I say on some occasions, because at least I know what the meaning of family means deep down inside, for myself but also for my friend and grouse pet Smoochy and his loving mum and dad.
From the 9th diary entry of Stewy Lemmon's childhood adventures.
This week, I had the best surprise present since Christmas Day, when I received my new grouse pet mouse named, Smooch. But the surprise didn't come from my parents, Archie or Flo, for it didn't even come from my little brother Lemmy's mouth. It wasn't from the mouths of my two much older identical twin sisters, Emma and Jemma, either.
Believe it or not, it came from the mouth of my mouse, named Smoochy. Yes that's right, he does speak and he told me about his remarkable life story, since birth.
It began when, I was feeding him some of my Mum's delicious afternoon treat. Do you remember the one that I named, 'a colourful fruit-blast'? Smoochy said, 'wow!, I love your Mum's food, it reminds me of my Mums magical dessert creations, she used to make for me, before I came to live with the you and your family'.
I was gob smacked, when I heard Smoochy, actually having a conversation with me. I now knew 100%, that I wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, when I thought, Smoochy spoke to me. Just like the time on the seashore with the whale, and the fairy floss at the seaside resort named, Slipslopslap Bay. Also the time during the circus, while we were holidaying at the big top park circus, named Rolling River Retreat.
Smoochy, told me about his parents, who's names are, Slippy and Sloppy. He also said, 'that his birth name is actually, Poppy, but he didn't mind being called,Smoochy. His name I had given him last Christmas. He said, 'it's grouse for a mouse to have a cool nickname, in the world of humans'.
He also added, that in the animal world most creatures, don't even speak. Except for some mice, a parrot, and he was also led to believe, maybe even the odd Dolphin, swimming around the ocean.
Smoochy, told me, 'how he and his parents Slippy and Sloppy, ended up at the local pet shop, in my local village named, Shimmerdimmerlee, when he was only about 2 years old'.
Smoochy' said, 'that his parents, used to travel around the globe, with the very colourful and world famous circus troop name, 'Mr. Kazoontite's and his Marvellous, Magical, Mysterious and Musically Minded Misfits'.
They both used to appear in an act, with the circus's ventriloquist, who's stage name was, 'Mumbling Murray the Mouth of the South'.They would pop their heads out of his top, left and right hand side pockets, of his jacket, and pretend to speak in English.They could also speak, a bit of his native language called, 'Ogbogolo'.
When Mumbling Murray, opened his mouth and spoke, they would only be grinding their teeth together, to get the cheese out of the gaps of their teeth. But, the crowd thought it was funny, so they just kept doing it, for every act, over several years.
Then one day, my Mum was having a baby, it was me. So, I was born in a big top circus and was looked after, ever so well by my parents and all of the other circus workers. Then one day, Mumbling Murray had to go back to his home country, to look after his sick sister.
Mumbling Murray, had just finished the circus tour, near our village and decided he should take my parents and I to the local pet store. He thought, 'maybe they can be cared for, by a new loving family'.
While living in the pet store, we noticed, with utter amazement, a very colourful parrot, talking in English. So Smoochy's Dad, answered him back, and the parrot almost fell off his perch. He spun around, about 3 times in a row. He then yelled back to my Dad, 'did you say that'? Yes, I did indeed, replied my dad, with a very proud smile on his face. Wow, said the parrot, 'I thought I was the only non human, who could speak'.
Smoochy's Dad told the parrot, who's name was Polly, by the way, 'that he and his wife Sloppy, had learnt to speak English, from the ventriloquist acts performing with Mumbling Murray, the Mouth of the South, and the world famous circus troop named, 'Mr. Kazoontite's, Marvellous, Magical, Mysterious and Musically Minded Misfits'. They, in turn, taught their only son, Smoochy, mouse language. during the day and English at night, before he went to sleep.
As for my Mum Sloppy and her magical dessert creations she used to make for the family. It was the best mixtures of sweet and colourful ingredients anyone could ever imagine. She used to go looking for snacks that were left on the floor under the seating area after the end of each nights circus performance. She would find things like salted popcorn with a touch of butter, a variety of different coloured chocolate, Neapolitan ice cream, orange Jaffa's and an assortment of lollies. It was so fun eating it all in a large dessert bowl after our main meal.
Gee I miss those days and miss my mum and dad so much, Smoochy (Poppy) told me. So the next day I mentioned to my parents that I really need to go to the loc pet shop to get something really important for Smoochy. They said what do you need? Dad said I have built you a new pet mouse house for your grouse new pet mouse Smoochy and I even hand painted it with such colourful flair using my artistic nous.
What else does Smoochy need, asked my mum. I said it is something that everyone needs in life and can never be replaced. So my parents said ok, tomorrow morning we will go down to the village pet shop and try and find what is so important for you and your grouse pet mouse Smoochy.
Here we are Smoochy, at the pet shop that took you and your parents in a few years ago. Let's go and have a look for you mum and dad together. We saw slimy snakes, sticky spiders, floating frogs, flirting fish, droopy ducks and even timid turtles. Then all of a sudden we spotted several mouse houses.
Smoochy was quietly saying, "Hello mum and dad are you here", even I was yelling out, Slippy, Sloppy, are you here. Then Smoochy spotted his parents in a mouse house which was stacked up on the top of a shelf full of books, towards the back of the pet shop.
Hello son, how have you been and how did you and your new friend know we were living here? Smoochy told them that his new friend Stewy, knows that he can talk and I told him of my early years of life and what had happened to us all.
I then yelled out to my parents, "I've found what Smoochy needs, we have found his real parents right here in Shimmerdimmerlee's village pet shop. Mum and dad said ok, you can have the two much older mice, so Smoochy has a mum and dad like everyone should have in their lives, even though they aren't his real parents.
So back home we went and welcomed Smoochy's mum and dad, Slippy and Sloppy to their new grouse pet mouse house and even showed them dads unusually built and outrageously painted outback backyard shed.
It was a hot afternoon, so we also slid down the "Terrific Triple Tumbling Tremendously Turning Travelling Tubes" to the village pond and introduced Buck the Duck to Smoochy's mum and dad.
Smoochy and I have decided to keep his families secret to ourselves for now. It's ok that my mum and dad don't believe what I say on some occasions, because at least I know what the meaning of family means deep down inside, for myself but also for my friend and grouse pet Smoochy and his loving mum and dad.
© Fetchitnow
20 October 2019.
This children’s fun adventure book series, is only for children from ages, 1-100. So please enjoy.
Note: Please read these in order, from diary entry 1-12, to get the vibe of all of the characters and the colourful sense of this crazy mess.
20 October 2019.
This children’s fun adventure book series, is only for children from ages, 1-100. So please enjoy.
Note: Please read these in order, from diary entry 1-12, to get the vibe of all of the characters and the colourful sense of this crazy mess.
Mateuš Conrad May 2020
a devil's decade
Mateuš Conrad
May 2020
. h'america is as much an ideology as is... islam... this... the best... pig-farmed english you could somehow... not teach... not have mustered from a slav... a pseudo-russian... inconvenience ego... contender? satellite pawn: your... *****-slave yugoslav bourbon... excavations of: the lost flood of mongolian: tribe-folk... the pakistani with the surname: khan... your peoples... prior... no-guilt... island strapped... peruvian conquistadors... or... better strapped... less the cerveza folk... more... the belittled sort of: sorting folk... blah blah...
it's honestly hard to write anything -
when one is still... shell-shocked...
fromwhat could be cited as a devil's decade:
13 years...
from the age of 21
through to: aged 34...
one of those relationship remainders...
we both got into smoking...
well... she was well ahead of me
in the cigarette domain...
no... however i will attire the event...
whatever verbiage...
it doesn't allow a "justice" to trickle down...
it just so happens that i want
to listen to some depeche mode...
and not some tool / porcupine tree...
13 years of smoking... from the nadir of
40 a day... locotomotive breath...
iron on the tongue... phelgm pancakes
harked in the morning from
a tobacco "hangover"...
oscilating around 20 per day...
for some time...
and all it took was a week... 10 days...
and i'm still in possession of 3 cigarettes...
and those two i reserve for the end
of the day ritual...
smoking the first is like:
finding oneself with a belly-full of
a child of gravity...
otherwise: gravity... unless falling...
to look up at the stars and the moon
and the sea: it's something you don't
exactly feel with two feet strapped
to the orb... no movement of
the tectonic plates...
sometimes with *******...
index and middle... of the left hand...
pushed under the right arm-pit...
to feel the pulse of the arteries...
i hardly think this is a call for celebration...
13 years can disappear like...
nothing even took place...
to substitute the habbit with...
reading... playing video games?
nibbling on carrots... nuts...
or just... waiting for the tide to recede...
and for a sea of patience to come
with tomorrow's tide...
all that... and none of it...
at the end of the day... the two cigarettes
are like a metaphor fo crack *******
or syringe strapping imitation
leech...
clear thinking: or therefore none...
no spaghetti muddles...
at best: imitation of biting into ice...
or... stretching a rubber-band until...
well: you can't feel it about to snap...
since it snaps...
a second gravity...
all concentrated in the stomach...
and esp. when the legs have not been
"properly" used up...
but remain tight-and-fidgety with goosebumps
when the ****** of tobacco lines the nerves...
i don't know why i can't celebrate this...
it's such a private event... such an exslusivity...
after all... in linear fashion:
to experience speed... a concentrated
exploration of space... within a hyper-dictum
of time...
in a linear way...
but a second gravity: without falling?
but otherwise whirling in the stomach?
a devil's decade: 13 years...
3 more... otherwise a dozen...
which is only 1 more...
the devil's dozen...
simon peter, andrew, james, john, philip,
bartholomew, matthew, thomas,
james son of alphaeus, simon the zealot,
judas son of james and judas iscariot...
count hey-zeus out of the equation...
there's paul...
and that's what eminem does...
when rapping... on white h'america?
changes the subject - a personal tirade over...
somehow i too link certain aspects...
13 years of...
this... oh so mediocre...
because: clearly... i don't know what
to make of it...
thank god i retained those
two cigarettes at the end of the day...
than have been hooked on nicorette chewing
gum / patches...
or the usual "a.a." support...
support: "support":
help yourself: by every single
and no dead or alive guru...
i really don't have anything
to write...
i'm walking away from
a 13 years of tobacco addiction...
and what i'm really thinking about...
the first thirsts of cold-turkey are long gone...
it's been under a week...
over a week... whatever...
what i'm really thinking about...
well...
how would it feel like...
to farm animals...
how does it feel to... pet animals...
a completely different dynamic...
after all... a farmer would own...
petting-worth animals...
like a cat... for... catching mice...
or a dog... to... warden... sphynx...
cerberus... watch-over the property...
how some would make the dogs
so ferocious... that a chain would
sometimes not be withstanding
to the ferocity of the barking...
eh... it's slightly off-putting...
to pet animals...
when you're being given a factory
edit of the original moo!
or snorkling in knee-deep-**** and mud
and rotten potatoes of pork...
i don't mind... the end product
is what interests me...
the **** is silk? tapeworm ****?!
or there-abouts...
but... it's so much different...
when you... farm animals...
lucky for me... my... somewhat...
immediate family still owned a farm...
and chickens in the yard...
oh yeah... catching a chicken is one thing...
amnesia of the chicken shack...
catch one... sure thing...
then with axe onto the stump...
head sticks to the stump...
last traces of life while the eyes roll back
and the tongue protrudes from the beak...
while... all the other chickens gather...
and start drinking the blood...
a bit like the two tiers of people...
some people must feel inclined to become
these... sociopathic farmers...
there are the humans you herd...
there are the humans you pet...
the ones you pet will probably find about
you herding them...
and rebel... since... you're not...
some gargantuan: ****** obvious...
miracle of a god descent... crown, pomp...
circumstance... all that was borrowed
from god... in splendour... heavens!
lo! behold... versailles was built!
the future charles III of england...
started 8pm today... on classic.fm with his own show...
i tuned in for a minute or two to hear
his voice...
i do hope that when ol' lizzie is dead...
he doesn't cower... he dons! he dons the title:
charles the third!
i ****** well hope... he doesn't become...
no... he can't become: george VII...
formerly known as charles: the prince of wales!
he has to be! charles the third!
he has waited this long!
he has to retain his name!
but that's the beauty of the monarchy...
it's so ******* pompous and omnipresent...
it doesn't hide... in... secular... grey-matter
of deep-state... there are just too many tiers
of power... even though... there's only symbolism...
but a reverence for it: nonetheless!
grey-matter of shadow-people in grey suits!
blinking: for god's sake! blinking black-holes
of hush hush: what was once...
the aristocracy... that's too replaced with...
the burden of crazed-loon bureaucracy!
i've quit smoking... well... "quit"...
2 cigarettes from 20 a day... circa...
is much better than a nicorette patch...
or some: pepperspray tasting chewing gum...
it's not a cigar... if you were asking...
but the original idea...
farming animals...
petting animals...
dogs... the ideal pets...
i'm sorry... i can't put on a leash or a muzzle...
a chihuahua can bite like a piranha...
i don't see the excuses needed to comfort
people afraid of big dogs... alsatians...
dobermans... that's the freedom allowed with cats...
if you get a chance to build their characters...
they will tend to take a dump in your
neighbour's garden...
yes... me... following sherlock feline...
with a black plastic bag and *****...
permission to... be allowed entry into your garden?
or are you... going to trebuchet that ****
back onto my lawn?
dogs or "petting" tarantulas? serpents?
the idea of petting went out of the window...
when... people started to fathom the...
what adjective?! to pet a ******* tarantula...
yes... me... running to the shop that sells
tarantulas... with caption: free tow-twos...
how about you keep that freak-****
in the jungle with all those gimp-suit sexed-up
antics... and i... get to...
farm a chicken... i get to... farm a pig?
no... of course no... although...
who couldn't be teased with latex jill and her
spider annex: library of "misdeeds"
for the library of: hard-ons...
now that you mentioned it... sure... i have a...
pressing concern... how to not...
over-cook pork...
see... pork is a bit like pasta...
you can serve it undercooked like beef...
but... it's also like chicken...
and beef... combined... you don't want
to serve it... overcooked...
only barbarians are fond of well-done beef...
probably arab...
they only stomach well-done steaks
or minced beef...
they have no palette for tartare steaks...
too much inbreeding with stinking lamb
does the trick...
whatever they might say of pork...
the aesthetic meat... leather too... shoes and belts...
lamb? for the slaughter?
eh... stinking puritanical meat worthy
of teacher 'ebrew and righteous son:
mecca ibn sudan.
because... ha ha... it's one thing being racist...
you know... detailing the physiognomy
differences between blacks and whites...
choccies and porky pies...
and the cinnamon people in between...
that's one thing...
it's like everyone was asleep...
the whites were racist...
the only people... ever...
but that's one thing...
i find it harder to digest...
there's no name for it...
kosher-ism... halal-ism?
to be... more racist than racist...
almost a vegan / vegetarian taming...
someone is being critical... of what you eat...
i imagine... malcom x being given a free
pass as a black totem in mecca...
shot dead... when converted... because...
still shuffled pork on the sly...
beside skin deep: please leavde your leather
shoes and belts... lace
beside the concept / concern for the mosque...
racism: morphed into an ideological
manifest...
for a while... let us leave thse
turban and tent dwelling folk
with their newly acquired riches
to the ***** of:
if i am to prepare lamb meat...
i treat it liky chilly...
the meat... stinks of something beside...
death... innocence prescribed...
you are told... wrong...
when ingesting the fruit of eden... somewhat...
these nomads of quasi-sikh turbans
for the women: the niqab girdle-grooms...
their wetted-appetites:
unable to satiate gyrocentrism leftovers...
and... pass from the living...
toward the theatre of the would be alive...
less the circumcised mess: misantrophes...
it's one thing to be chockie...
another to be porky-pink'ish...
but what you eat?
that's... somehow... off-putting?
puritan with some crab-meat
in this numbed jaw?
no one the persians rebelled against
the camel-jockey prescription of:
words only... no images...
pasta squiggles of phonetic encoding...
arabic... tironian a posteriori notations...
then again: one could argue:
tironian a priori notations...
shrimp-**** and eyes that would
resemble... at best... squinting from too much
sun... and at worst... ******* on a lemon...
12" of **** and the twelve-pounder
juicing worth of ***...
her ***...
for me to comment
on the mongol horde esque libido of
the fellow woman of my race...
no... the islamic idea of a heavenly harem...
mind you: it would satisfy her:
if she was to be crowned the juggling act
of three: at least one to compete with
the da vinci sodomites...
to be told you can't eat something...
i'm already a bad joke as:
"bweetish" as it comes...
tucked away with the afro-saxon...
the anglo-slav...
you just have those lips
that look like full-bloom best:
imitation: floral patterns of a ******...
best equipped for *******...
i swim: you sink...
you run... i start an arithmetic of catching
my breath...
the cinnamon people are...
if they are equipped with a polytheism
of the raj... and are saved with
culinary ambitions...
"we'd" call them the blue indians...
and that's also: to mind...
their elder: sanskrit...
पअरउत
र - or how the englishman lost the trill:
rattle-snake R: for rolling...
when he... became: the nuanced... keeper...
vanguard... of the Raj...
perhaps... the anthropomorphic genesis
in africa: givenz zee apulus... apex: gorrilolulz...
but... the sribbles and *******?
india the basin... akapit: paragraph:
the tear of sri lanka...
i.e. so much for me succumbing to the anglican:
we'z all wo'z allz: ex afri-ka'ka'kazia...
oh sure... sure... we... the sensible:
secular post-christians of the protestant wealth
of the west...
happy to afford the dumbed-down
congregations of the newly conscripted...
believers of africa and south h'america...
carrot dangling: run donkey! run!
one of your own: a pope! a cardinal!
poland is still running on that...
remark of... the passing of power...
the first pope to be given status of... saint...
john paul II the saint of:
kissing airport tarmac...
and then of course...
the hyped intricacy of the orthodox branch
of the bureau of hierogylphics and
synonymous litanies...
the events of the baltic sea:
would never be...
the sort of ****-show...
that... the events of the mediterranean sea...
hell... the events of the black sea...
christianity isn't merely dumb...
it's just... over-hyped...
the pork the pork... the pork!
who would require...
a criticism of pork and pig and ms. porky
to suit... alliance...
no matter... i'm on the cusp of quitting
smoking...
we can caricature our physiognomy...
but... how do you... caricature...
what you eat... your... sustenance?
you, black... have a pillow for a nose...
me, white... have a death's lack of...
i don't have a nose...
i have... a death's clench sucker...
i have a pinch nose...
so much for over-inflated lips...
and... my missing... elongated...
myth elves: the protruding ears...
like: no body...
current / the currency of
the now h'america... and the immediacy
of nostalgia: as a history: moving forward /
anywhere but back...
nietzsche opened up a nostalgia for ancient
greece...
h'americans... opening up... a nostalgia...
for 1950s h'america...
how can you write a future history...
from a stand-point / stand-off...
of nostalgia...
this... immediacy of nostalgia...
who's who and who isn't citing...
a richard brautigan... or... a frank o'hara?!
because: there's the sucker and no punch
for the next verse of...
****'s sake... walt whitman?!
o captain! my... john keating...
no... it's not about glorifying
the original intent... mr. president...
the english teacher...
mr.! thomas! bunce!
how can any history be written...
when there's... a nostalgia: impediment...
the hsitory of an immediacy
lacklutered by a past...
the past: however framed...
before... the dead are allowed to
turn and grovel in their graves...
i have 'ere... my gobble-whick of...
pretending: no shadows will
ever exist... at noon...
scrathing... timidy bed-fellows...
loitering squat...
we are to grovel for the cousin
imps and apes of: first born:
english born... navajo...
tortilla...
the old fling of england...
and the spanish...
the conquistadors...
loose nouns dog **** flinging applause:
i fall asleep in a bed:
i welcome the new day...
most... egregious (archaic)...
these western lands...
mmm... they're not very much akin
to our flavour...
that they dictate... refurbishment...
unless it's para-english...
alter- proto- welsh...
kashubian... masovian...
silesian...
kres...
ei hhynnal coch.. and it:
pronouns neutral: does... ****-wit...
gender-fluid-retardo: perfecto...
and i too wish i had...
themes of crusader songs...
but... i have none...
these that i marked...
teutonic knights of no order...
barbarossa being pickled...
livonians... prussians...
lithuanians...
i'm sorry...
that i'm too far away from
you to return to europe
from your: hubris...
in crafting... the...
conscripts: shikhs...
ask the russians! ask the rush-******-whips!
agony of a tongue: beside their own!
the post-colonial powers
return!
the post-colonial powers! make a return!
so much for those of us...
not having... a colonial past!
are we to pay for... such...
benevolent gracing
of gratitude from the people
"made"... under... colonial... rule?!
from the perspective of the strong...
why... am i... expected to treat
these care-bears with...
the right: equipped
manchester shovel?
you spike my drink
or am i... to... simply...
take the right, godly ****...
into all the urns...
the rest of you are to drink from?
i see my forehead glee: akin to my elbow...
and i call that phenomenon:
something benevolent of *****....
yep... not s'unni... but... shyte...
****.. persian: rebellion of camel-jockey...
****'ite... macron i...
dot's the worthy due: guillotine...
echo of the baltic sea...
we somehow: managed...
to lessen the romance...
unlike the english...
the romans conquered:
romanced the ******...
the vikings conquered...
romanced the ******...
the mongols never made it...
nor the huns..
so much for "brexit":
with your lineage of currency...
and your status as an island...
glory! vistory! ******* and all!
because: best felt!
in... places... akin to... devon!
a londoner will abhor someone...
with origins in the vicinity of bristol...
like... because...
there's no other?
n'ah... this night is pretty much worth
all the other nights...
it's worth sleeping...
it's not worth... whatever: leftover...
"worth" of...
this... this "apparent"...
yep... leftover... be...
something for the worth of yale
h'american... or...
dignitary president...
officiated cul de sac executive orders...
it's... such an anglo-saxon fetish for...
*** beside the boudoir...
dodo, lilac... gimp... latex...
dickens...
liberty at:
i feign to allow myself to have... lapsed...
in what? good question...
even i... do not... attempt to baron
myself: over;
pithy... not pity... me...
you god-sucker...
******* ******* son's of eire...
me good-son...
term me: years! under...
the tsarina! *******...
new yawn-ker...
big mouth... no new bullseye...
the same old manchester...
the same ol'...
porky pies...
the same ol' chimneys and:
love's all... at cul de sac:
southend... porky pie munch:
luvvie: ol' guv.
yem: yup... ol' groove.. zzz-tizzle...
smart bruiser:
geezer with a sneeze pops up
at random places and jokes...
retards... lobotomy cruiser...
rhymes like... a cockey...
prior... to... tourettes... the lost...
the last... and what's:
the remains of...
the always... last...
and the worst... told... chalk of joke.
se relationship remainders...
we both got into smoking...
well... she was well ahead of me
in the cigarette domain...
no... however i will attire the event...
whatever verbiage...
it doesn't allow a "justice" to trickle down...
it just so happens that i want
to listen to some depeche mode...
and not some tool / porcupine tree...
13 years of smoking... from the nadir of
40 a day... locotomotive breath...
iron on the tongue... phelgm pancakes
harked in the morning from
a tobacco "hangover"...
oscilating around 20 per day...
for some time...
and all it took was a week... 10 days...
and i'm still in possession of 3 cigarettes...
and those two i reserve for the end
of the day ritual...
smoking the first is like:
finding oneself with a belly-full of
a child of gravity...
otherwise: gravity... unless falling...
to look up at the stars and the moon
and the sea: it's something you don't
exactly feel with two feet strapped
to the orb... no movement of
the tectonic plates...
sometimes with *******...
index and middle... of the left hand...
pushed under the right arm-pit...
to feel the pulse of the arteries...
i hardly think this is a call for celebration...
13 years can disappear like...
nothing even took place...
to substitute the habbit with...
reading... playing video games?
nibbling on carrots... nuts...
or just... waiting for the tide to recede...
and for a sea of patience to come
with tomorrow's tide...
all that... and none of it...
at the end of the day... the two cigarettes
are like a metaphor fo crack *******
or syringe strapping imitation
leech...
clear thinking: or therefore none...
no spaghetti muddles...
at best: imitation of biting into ice...
or... stretching a rubber-band until...
well: you can't feel it about to snap...
since it snaps...
a second gravity...
all concentrated in the stomach...
and esp. when the legs have not been
"properly" used up...
but remain tight-and-fidgety with goosebumps
when the ****** of tobacco lines the nerves...
i don't know why i can't celebrate this...
it's such a private event... such an exslusivity...
after all... in linear fashion:
to experience speed... a concentrated
exploration of space... within a hyper-dictum
of time...
in a linear way...
but a second gravity: without falling?
but otherwise whirling in the stomach?
a devil's decade: 13 years...
3 more... otherwise a dozen...
which is only 1 more...
the devil's dozen...
simon peter, andrew, james, john, philip,
bartholomew, matthew, thomas,
james son of alphaeus, simon the zealot,
judas son of james and judas iscariot...
count hey-zeus out of the equation...
there's paul...
and that's what eminem does...
when rapping... on white h'america?
changes the subject - a personal tirade over...
somehow i too link certain aspects...
13 years of...
this... oh so mediocre...
because: clearly... i don't know what
to make of it...
thank god i retained those
two cigarettes at the end of the day...
than have been hooked on nicorette chewing
gum / patches...
or the usual "a.a." support...
support: "support":
help yourself: by every single
and no dead or alive guru...
i really don't have anything
to write...
i'm walking away from
a 13 years of tobacco addiction...
and what i'm really thinking about...
the first thirsts of cold-turkey are long gone...
it's been under a week...
over a week... whatever...
what i'm really thinking about...
well...
how would it feel like...
to farm animals...
how does it feel to... pet animals...
a completely different dynamic...
after all... a farmer would own...
petting-worth animals...
like a cat... for... catching mice...
or a dog... to... warden... sphynx...
cerberus... watch-over the property...
how some would make the dogs
so ferocious... that a chain would
sometimes not be withstanding
to the ferocity of the barking...
eh... it's slightly off-putting...
to pet animals...
when you're being given a factory
edit of the original moo!
or snorkling in knee-deep-**** and mud
and rotten potatoes of pork...
i don't mind... the end product
is what interests me...
the **** is silk? tapeworm ****?!
or there-abouts...
but... it's so much different...
when you... farm animals...
lucky for me... my... somewhat...
immediate family still owned a farm...
and chickens in the yard...
oh yeah... catching a chicken is one thing...
amnesia of the chicken shack...
catch one... sure thing...
then with axe onto the stump...
head sticks to the stump...
last traces of life while the eyes roll back
and the tongue protrudes from the beak...
while... all the other chickens gather...
and start drinking the blood...
a bit like the two tiers of people...
some people must feel inclined to become
these... sociopathic farmers...
there are the humans you herd...
there are the humans you pet...
the ones you pet will probably find about
you herding them...
and rebel... since... you're not...
some gargantuan: ****** obvious...
miracle of a god descent... crown, pomp...
circumstance... all that was borrowed
from god... in splendour... heavens!
lo! behold... versailles was built!
the future charles III of england...
started 8pm today... on classic.fm with his own show...
i tuned in for a minute or two to hear
his voice...
i do hope that when ol' lizzie is dead...
he doesn't cower... he dons! he dons the title:
charles the third!
i ****** well hope... he doesn't become...
no... he can't become: george VII...
formerly known as charles: the prince of wales!
he has to be! charles the third!
he has waited this long!
he has to retain his name!
but that's the beauty of the monarchy...
it's so ******* pompous and omnipresent...
it doesn't hide... in... secular... grey-matter
of deep-state... there are just too many tiers
of power... even though... there's only symbolism...
but a reverence for it: nonetheless!
grey-matter of shadow-people in grey suits!
blinking: for god's sake! blinking black-holes
of hush hush: what was once...
the aristocracy... that's too replaced with...
the burden of crazed-loon bureaucracy!
i've quit smoking... well... "quit"...
2 cigarettes from 20 a day... circa...
is much better than a nicorette patch...
or some: pepperspray tasting chewing gum...
it's not a cigar... if you were asking...
but the original idea...
farming animals...
petting animals...
dogs... the ideal pets...
i'm sorry... i can't put on a leash or a muzzle...
a chihuahua can bite like a piranha...
i don't see the excuses needed to comfort
people afraid of big dogs... alsatians...
dobermans... that's the freedom allowed with cats...
if you get a chance to build their characters...
they will tend to take a dump in your
neighbour's garden...
yes... me... following sherlock feline...
with a black plastic bag and *****...
permission to... be allowed entry into your garden?
or are you... going to trebuchet that ****
back onto my lawn?
dogs or "petting" tarantulas? serpents?
the idea of petting went out of the window...
when... people started to fathom the...
what adjective?! to pet a ******* tarantula...
yes... me... running to the shop that sells
tarantulas... with caption: free tow-twos...
how about you keep that freak-****
in the jungle with all those gimp-suit sexed-up
antics... and i... get to...
farm a chicken... i get to... farm a pig?
no... of course no... although...
who couldn't be teased with latex jill and her
spider annex: library of "misdeeds"
for the library of: hard-ons...
now that you mentioned it... sure... i have a...
pressing concern... how to not...
over-cook pork...
see... pork is a bit like pasta...
you can serve it undercooked like beef...
but... it's also like chicken...
and beef... combined... you don't want
to serve it... overcooked...
only barbarians are fond of well-done beef...
probably arab...
they only stomach well-done steaks
or minced beef...
they have no palette for tartare steaks...
too much inbreeding with stinking lamb
does the trick...
whatever they might say of pork...
the aesthetic meat... leather too... shoes and belts...
lamb? for the slaughter?
eh... stinking puritanical meat worthy
of teacher 'ebrew and righteous son:
mecca ibn sudan.
because... ha ha... it's one thing being racist...
you know... detailing the physiognomy
differences between blacks and whites...
choccies and porky pies...
and the cinnamon people in between...
that's one thing...
it's like everyone was asleep...
the whites were racist...
the only people... ever...
but that's one thing...
i find it harder to digest...
there's no name for it...
kosher-ism... halal-ism?
to be... more racist than racist...
almost a vegan / vegetarian taming...
someone is being critical... of what you eat...
i imagine... malcom x being given a free
pass as a black totem in mecca...
shot dead... when converted... because...
still shuffled pork on the sly...
beside skin deep: please leavde your leather
shoes and belts... lace
beside the concept / concern for the mosque...
racism: morphed into an ideological
manifest...
for a while... let us leave thse
turban and tent dwelling folk
with their newly acquired riches
to the ***** of:
if i am to prepare lamb meat...
i treat it liky chilly...
the meat... stinks of something beside...
death... innocence prescribed...
you are told... wrong...
when ingesting the fruit of eden... somewhat...
these nomads of quasi-sikh turbans
for the women: the niqab girdle-grooms...
their wetted-appetites:
unable to satiate gyrocentrism leftovers...
and... pass from the living...
toward the theatre of the would be alive...
less the circumcised mess: misantrophes...
it's one thing to be chockie...
another to be porky-pink'ish...
but what you eat?
that's... somehow... off-putting?
puritan with some crab-meat
in this numbed jaw?
no one the persians rebelled against
the camel-jockey prescription of:
words only... no images...
pasta squiggles of phonetic encoding...
arabic... tironian a posteriori notations...
then again: one could argue:
tironian a priori notations...
shrimp-**** and eyes that would
resemble... at best... squinting from too much
sun... and at worst... ******* on a lemon...
12" of **** and the twelve-pounder
juicing worth of ***...
her ***...
for me to comment
on the mongol horde esque libido of
the fellow woman of my race...
no... the islamic idea of a heavenly harem...
mind you: it would satisfy her:
if she was to be crowned the juggling act
of three: at least one to compete with
the da vinci sodomites...
to be told you can't eat something...
i'm already a bad joke as:
"bweetish" as it comes...
tucked away with the afro-saxon...
the anglo-slav...
you just have those lips
that look like full-bloom best:
imitation: floral patterns of a ******...
best equipped for *******...
i swim: you sink...
you run... i start an arithmetic of catching
my breath...
the cinnamon people are...
if they are equipped with a polytheism
of the raj... and are saved with
culinary ambitions...
"we'd" call them the blue indians...
and that's also: to mind...
their elder: sanskrit...
पअरउत
र - or how the englishman lost the trill:
rattle-snake R: for rolling...
when he... became: the nuanced... keeper...
vanguard... of the Raj...
perhaps... the anthropomorphic genesis
in africa: givenz zee apulus... apex: gorrilolulz...
but... the sribbles and *******?
india the basin... akapit: paragraph:
the tear of sri lanka...
i.e. so much for me succumbing to the anglican:
we'z all wo'z allz: ex afri-ka'ka'kazia...
oh sure... sure... we... the sensible:
secular post-christians of the protestant wealth
of the west...
happy to afford the dumbed-down
congregations of the newly conscripted...
believers of africa and south h'america...
carrot dangling: run donkey! run!
one of your own: a pope! a cardinal!
poland is still running on that...
remark of... the passing of power...
the first pope to be given status of... saint...
john paul II the saint of:
kissing airport tarmac...
and then of course...
the hyped intricacy of the orthodox branch
of the bureau of hierogylphics and
synonymous litanies...
the events of the baltic sea:
would never be...
the sort of ****-show...
that... the events of the mediterranean sea...
hell... the events of the black sea...
christianity isn't merely dumb...
it's just... over-hyped...
the pork the pork... the pork!
who would require...
a criticism of pork and pig and ms. porky
to suit... alliance...
no matter... i'm on the cusp of quitting
smoking...
we can caricature our physiognomy...
but... how do you... caricature...
what you eat... your... sustenance?
you, black... have a pillow for a nose...
me, white... have a death's lack of...
i don't have a nose...
i have... a death's clench sucker...
i have a pinch nose...
so much for over-inflated lips...
and... my missing... elongated...
myth elves: the protruding ears...
like: no body...
current / the currency of
the now h'america... and the immediacy
of nostalgia: as a history: moving forward /
anywhere but back...
nietzsche opened up a nostalgia for ancient
greece...
h'americans... opening up... a nostalgia...
for 1950s h'america...
how can you write a future history...
from a stand-point / stand-off...
of nostalgia...
this... immediacy of nostalgia...
who's who and who isn't citing...
a richard brautigan... or... a frank o'hara?!
because: there's the sucker and no punch
for the next verse of...
****'s sake... walt whitman?!
o captain! my... john keating...
no... it's not about glorifying
the original intent... mr. president...
the english teacher...
mr.! thomas! bunce!
how can any history be written...
when there's... a nostalgia: impediment...
the hsitory of an immediacy
lacklutered by a past...
the past: however framed...
before... the dead are allowed to
turn and grovel in their graves...
i have 'ere... my gobble-whick of...
pretending: no shadows will
ever exist... at noon...
scrathing... timidy bed-fellows...
loitering squat...
we are to grovel for the cousin
imps and apes of: first born:
english born... navajo...
tortilla...
the old fling of england...
and the spanish...
the conquistadors...
loose nouns dog **** flinging applause:
i fall asleep in a bed:
i welcome the new day...
most... egregious (archaic)...
these western lands...
mmm... they're not very much akin
to our flavour...
that they dictate... refurbishment...
unless it's para-english...
alter- proto- welsh...
kashubian... masovian...
silesian...
kres...
ei hhynnal coch.. and it:
pronouns neutral: does... ****-wit...
gender-fluid-retardo: perfecto...
and i too wish i had...
themes of crusader songs...
but... i have none...
these that i marked...
teutonic knights of no order...
barbarossa being pickled...
livonians... prussians...
lithuanians...
i'm sorry...
that i'm too far away from
you to return to europe
from your: hubris...
in crafting... the...
conscripts: shikhs...
ask the russians! ask the rush-******-whips!
agony of a tongue: beside their own!
the post-colonial powers
return!
the post-colonial powers! make a return!
so much for those of us...
not having... a colonial past!
are we to pay for... such...
benevolent gracing
of gratitude from the people
"made"... under... colonial... rule?!
from the perspective of the strong...
why... am i... expected to treat
these care-bears with...
the right: equipped
manchester shovel?
you spike my drink
or am i... to... simply...
take the right, godly ****...
into all the urns...
the rest of you are to drink from?
i see my forehead glee: akin to my elbow...
and i call that phenomenon:
something benevolent of *****....
yep... not s'unni... but... shyte...
****.. persian: rebellion of camel-jockey...
****'ite... macron i...
dot's the worthy due: guillotine...
echo of the baltic sea...
we somehow: managed...
to lessen the romance...
unlike the english...
the romans conquered:
romanced the ******...
the vikings conquered...
romanced the ******...
the mongols never made it...
nor the huns..
so much for "brexit":
with your lineage of currency...
and your status as an island...
glory! vistory! ******* and all!
because: best felt!
in... places... akin to... devon!
a londoner will abhor someone...
with origins in the vicinity of bristol...
like... because...
there's no other?
n'ah... this night is pretty much worth
all the other nights...
it's worth sleeping...
it's not worth... whatever: leftover...
"worth" of...
this... this "apparent"...
yep... leftover... be...
something for the worth of yale
h'american... or...
dignitary president...
officiated cul de sac executive orders...
it's... such an anglo-saxon fetish for...
*** beside the boudoir...
dodo, lilac... gimp... latex...
dickens...
liberty at:
i feign to allow myself to have... lapsed...
in what? good question...
even i... do not... attempt to baron
myself: over.
it's honestly hard to write anything -
when one is still... shell-shocked...
fromwhat could be cited as a devil's decade:
13 years...
from the age of 21
through to: aged 34...
one of those relationship remainders...
we both got into smoking...
well... she was well ahead of me
in the cigarette domain...
no... however i will attire the event...
whatever verbiage...
it doesn't allow a "justice" to trickle down...
it just so happens that i want
to listen to some depeche mode...
and not some tool / porcupine tree...
13 years of smoking... from the nadir of
40 a day... locotomotive breath...
iron on the tongue... phelgm pancakes
harked in the morning from
a tobacco "hangover"...
oscilating around 20 per day...
for some time...
and all it took was a week... 10 days...
and i'm still in possession of 3 cigarettes...
and those two i reserve for the end
of the day ritual...
smoking the first is like:
finding oneself with a belly-full of
a child of gravity...
otherwise: gravity... unless falling...
to look up at the stars and the moon
and the sea: it's something you don't
exactly feel with two feet strapped
to the orb... no movement of
the tectonic plates...
sometimes with *******...
index and middle... of the left hand...
pushed under the right arm-pit...
to feel the pulse of the arteries...
i hardly think this is a call for celebration...
13 years can disappear like...
nothing even took place...
to substitute the habbit with...
reading... playing video games?
nibbling on carrots... nuts...
or just... waiting for the tide to recede...
and for a sea of patience to come
with tomorrow's tide...
all that... and none of it...
at the end of the day... the two cigarettes
are like a metaphor fo crack *******
or syringe strapping imitation
leech...
clear thinking: or therefore none...
no spaghetti muddles...
at best: imitation of biting into ice...
or... stretching a rubber-band until...
well: you can't feel it about to snap...
since it snaps...
a second gravity...
all concentrated in the stomach...
and esp. when the legs have not been
"properly" used up...
but remain tight-and-fidgety with goosebumps
when the ****** of tobacco lines the nerves...
i don't know why i can't celebrate this...
it's such a private event... such an exslusivity...
after all... in linear fashion:
to experience speed... a concentrated
exploration of space... within a hyper-dictum
of time...
in a linear way...
but a second gravity: without falling?
but otherwise whirling in the stomach?
a devil's decade: 13 years...
3 more... otherwise a dozen...
which is only 1 more...
the devil's dozen...
simon peter, andrew, james, john, philip,
bartholomew, matthew, thomas,
james son of alphaeus, simon the zealot,
judas son of james and judas iscariot...
count hey-zeus out of the equation...
there's paul...
and that's what eminem does...
when rapping... on white h'america?
changes the subject - a personal tirade over...
somehow i too link certain aspects...
13 years of...
this... oh so mediocre...
because: clearly... i don't know what
to make of it...
thank god i retained those
two cigarettes at the end of the day...
than have been hooked on nicorette chewing
gum / patches...
or the usual "a.a." support...
support: "support":
help yourself: by every single
and no dead or alive guru...
i really don't have anything
to write...
i'm walking away from
a 13 years of tobacco addiction...
and what i'm really thinking about...
the first thirsts of cold-turkey are long gone...
it's been under a week...
over a week... whatever...
what i'm really thinking about...
well...
how would it feel like...
to farm animals...
how does it feel to... pet animals...
a completely different dynamic...
after all... a farmer would own...
petting-worth animals...
like a cat... for... catching mice...
or a dog... to... warden... sphynx...
cerberus... watch-over the property...
how some would make the dogs
so ferocious... that a chain would
sometimes not be withstanding
to the ferocity of the barking...
eh... it's slightly off-putting...
to pet animals...
when you're being given a factory
edit of the original moo!
or snorkling in knee-deep-**** and mud
and rotten potatoes of pork...
i don't mind... the end product
is what interests me...
the **** is silk? tapeworm ****?!
or there-abouts...
but... it's so much different...
when you... farm animals...
lucky for me... my... somewhat...
immediate family still owned a farm...
and chickens in the yard...
oh yeah... catching a chicken is one thing...
amnesia of the chicken shack...
catch one... sure thing...
then with axe onto the stump...
head sticks to the stump...
last traces of life while the eyes roll back
and the tongue protrudes from the beak...
while... all the other chickens gather...
and start drinking the blood...
a bit like the two tiers of people...
some people must feel inclined to become
these... sociopathic farmers...
there are the humans you herd...
there are the humans you pet...
the ones you pet will probably find about
you herding them...
and rebel... since... you're not...
some gargantuan: ****** obvious...
miracle of a god descent... crown, pomp...
circumstance... all that was borrowed
from god... in splendour... heavens!
lo! behold... versailles was built!
the future charles III of england...
started 8pm today... on classic.fm with his own show...
i tuned in for a minute or two to hear
his voice...
i do hope that when ol' lizzie is dead...
he doesn't cower... he dons! he dons the title:
charles the third!
i ****** well hope... he doesn't become...
no... he can't become: george VII...
formerly known as charles: the prince of wales!
he has to be! charles the third!
he has waited this long!
he has to retain his name!
but that's the beauty of the monarchy...
it's so ******* pompous and omnipresent...
it doesn't hide... in... secular... grey-matter
of deep-state... there are just too many tiers
of power... even though... there's only symbolism...
but a reverence for it: nonetheless!
grey-matter of shadow-people in grey suits!
blinking: for god's sake! blinking black-holes
of hush hush: what was once...
the aristocracy... that's too replaced with...
the burden of crazed-loon bureaucracy!
i've quit smoking... well... "quit"...
2 cigarettes from 20 a day... circa...
is much better than a nicorette patch...
or some: pepperspray tasting chewing gum...
it's not a cigar... if you were asking...
but the original idea...
farming animals...
petting animals...
dogs... the ideal pets...
i'm sorry... i can't put on a leash or a muzzle...
a chihuahua can bite like a piranha...
i don't see the excuses needed to comfort
people afraid of big dogs... alsatians...
dobermans... that's the freedom allowed with cats...
if you get a chance to build their characters...
they will tend to take a dump in your
neighbour's garden...
yes... me... following sherlock feline...
with a black plastic bag and *****...
permission to... be allowed entry into your garden?
or are you... going to trebuchet that ****
back onto my lawn?
dogs or "petting" tarantulas? serpents?
the idea of petting went out of the window...
when... people started to fathom the...
what adjective?! to pet a ******* tarantula...
yes... me... running to the shop that sells
tarantulas... with caption: free tow-twos...
how about you keep that freak-****
in the jungle with all those gimp-suit sexed-up
antics... and i... get to...
farm a chicken... i get to... farm a pig?
no... of course no... although...
who couldn't be teased with latex jill and her
spider annex: library of "misdeeds"
for the library of: hard-ons...
now that you mentioned it... sure... i have a...
pressing concern... how to not...
over-cook pork...
see... pork is a bit like pasta...
you can serve it undercooked like beef...
but... it's also like chicken...
and beef... combined... you don't want
to serve it... overcooked...
only barbarians are fond of well-done beef...
probably arab...
they only stomach well-done steaks
or minced beef...
they have no palette for tartare steaks...
too much inbreeding with stinking lamb
does the trick...
whatever they might say of pork...
the aesthetic meat... leather too... shoes and belts...
lamb? for the slaughter?
eh... stinking puritanical meat worthy
of teacher 'ebrew and righteous son:
mecca ibn sudan.
because... ha ha... it's one thing being racist...
you know... detailing the physiognomy
differences between blacks and whites...
choccies and porky pies...
and the cinnamon people in between...
that's one thing...
it's like everyone was asleep...
the whites were racist...
the only people... ever...
but that's one thing...
i find it harder to digest...
there's no name for it...
kosher-ism... halal-ism?
to be... more racist than racist...
almost a vegan / vegetarian taming...
someone is being critical... of what you eat...
i imagine... malcom x being given a free
pass as a black totem in mecca...
shot dead... when converted... because...
still shuffled pork on the sly...
beside skin deep: please leavde your leather
shoes and belts... lace
beside the concept / concern for the mosque...
racism: morphed into an ideological
manifest...
for a while... let us leave thse
turban and tent dwelling folk
with their newly acquired riches
to the ***** of:
if i am to prepare lamb meat...
i treat it liky chilly...
the meat... stinks of something beside...
death... innocence prescribed...
you are told... wrong...
when ingesting the fruit of eden... somewhat...
these nomads of quasi-sikh turbans
for the women: the niqab girdle-grooms...
their wetted-appetites:
unable to satiate gyrocentrism leftovers...
and... pass from the living...
toward the theatre of the would be alive...
less the circumcised mess: misantrophes...
it's one thing to be chockie...
another to be porky-pink'ish...
but what you eat?
that's... somehow... off-putting?
puritan with some crab-meat
in this numbed jaw?
no one the persians rebelled against
the camel-jockey prescription of:
words only... no images...
pasta squiggles of phonetic encoding...
arabic... tironian a posteriori notations...
then again: one could argue:
tironian a priori notations...
shrimp-**** and eyes that would
resemble... at best... squinting from too much
sun... and at worst... ******* on a lemon...
12" of **** and the twelve-pounder
juicing worth of ***...
her ***...
for me to comment
on the mongol horde esque libido of
the fellow woman of my race...
no... the islamic idea of a heavenly harem...
mind you: it would satisfy her:
if she was to be crowned the juggling act
of three: at least one to compete with
the da vinci sodomites...
to be told you can't eat something...
i'm already a bad joke as:
"bweetish" as it comes...
tucked away with the afro-saxon...
the anglo-slav...
you just have those lips
that look like full-bloom best:
imitation: floral patterns of a ******...
best equipped for *******...
i swim: you sink...
you run... i start an arithmetic of catching
my breath...
the cinnamon people are...
if they are equipped with a polytheism
of the raj... and are saved with
culinary ambitions...
"we'd" call them the blue indians...
and that's also: to mind...
their elder: sanskrit...
पअरउत
र - or how the englishman lost the trill:
rattle-snake R: for rolling...
when he... became: the nuanced... keeper...
vanguard... of the Raj...
perhaps... the anthropomorphic genesis
in africa: givenz zee apulus... apex: gorrilolulz...
but... the sribbles and *******?
india the basin... akapit: paragraph:
the tear of sri lanka...
i.e. so much for me succumbing to the anglican:
we'z all wo'z allz: ex afri-ka'ka'kazia...
oh sure... sure... we... the sensible:
secular post-christians of the protestant wealth
of the west...
happy to afford the dumbed-down
congregations of the newly conscripted...
believers of africa and south h'america...
carrot dangling: run donkey! run!
one of your own: a pope! a cardinal!
poland is still running on that...
remark of... the passing of power...
the first pope to be given status of... saint...
john paul II the saint of:
kissing airport tarmac...
and then of course...
the hyped intricacy of the orthodox branch
of the bureau of hierogylphics and
synonymous litanies...
the events of the baltic sea:
would never be...
the sort of ****-show...
that... the events of the mediterranean sea...
hell... the events of the black sea...
christianity isn't merely dumb...
it's just... over-hyped...
the pork the pork... the pork!
who would require...
a criticism of pork and pig and ms. porky
to suit... alliance...
no matter... i'm on the cusp of quitting
smoking...
we can caricature our physiognomy...
but... how do you... caricature...
what you eat... your... sustenance?
you, black... have a pillow for a nose...
me, white... have a death's lack of...
i don't have a nose...
i have... a death's clench sucker...
i have a pinch nose...
so much for over-inflated lips...
and... my missing... elongated...
myth elves: the protruding ears...
like: no body...
current / the currency of
the now h'america... and the immediacy
of nostalgia: as a history: moving forward /
anywhere but back...
nietzsche opened up a nostalgia for ancient
greece...
h'americans... opening up... a nostalgia...
for 1950s h'america...
how can you write a future history...
from a stand-point / stand-off...
of nostalgia...
this... immediacy of nostalgia...
who's who and who isn't citing...
a richard brautigan... or... a frank o'hara?!
because: there's the sucker and no punch
for the next verse of...
****'s sake... walt whitman?!
o captain! my... john keating...
no... it's not about glorifying
the original intent... mr. president...
the english teacher...
mr.! thomas! bunce!
how can any history be written...
when there's... a nostalgia: impediment...
the hsitory of an immediacy
lacklutered by a past...
the past: however framed...
before... the dead are allowed to
turn and grovel in their graves...
i have 'ere... my gobble-whick of...
pretending: no shadows will
ever exist... at noon...
scrathing... timidy bed-fellows...
loitering squat...
we are to grovel for the cousin
imps and apes of: first born:
english born... navajo...
tortilla...
the old fling of england...
and the spanish...
the conquistadors...
loose nouns dog **** flinging applause:
i fall asleep in a bed:
i welcome the new day...
most... egregious (archaic)...
these western lands...
mmm... they're not very much akin
to our flavour...
that they dictate... refurbishment...
unless it's para-english...
alter- proto- welsh...
kashubian... masovian...
silesian...
kres...
ei hhynnal coch.. and it:
pronouns neutral: does... ****-wit...
gender-fluid-retardo: perfecto...
and i too wish i had...
themes of crusader songs...
but... i have none...
these that i marked...
teutonic knights of no order...
barbarossa being pickled...
livonians... prussians...
lithuanians...
i'm sorry...
that i'm too far away from
you to return to europe
from your: hubris...
in crafting... the...
conscripts: shikhs...
ask the russians! ask the rush-******-whips!
agony of a tongue: beside their own!
the post-colonial powers
return!
the post-colonial powers! make a return!
so much for those of us...
not having... a colonial past!
are we to pay for... such...
benevolent gracing
of gratitude from the people
"made"... under... colonial... rule?!
from the perspective of the strong...
why... am i... expected to treat
these care-bears with...
the right: equipped
manchester shovel?
you spike my drink
or am i... to... simply...
take the right, godly ****...
into all the urns...
the rest of you are to drink from?
i see my forehead glee: akin to my elbow...
and i call that phenomenon:
something benevolent of *****....
yep... not s'unni... but... shyte...
****.. persian: rebellion of camel-jockey...
****'ite... macron i...
dot's the worthy due: guillotine...
echo of the baltic sea...
we somehow: managed...
to lessen the romance...
unlike the english...
the romans conquered:
romanced the ******...
the vikings conquered...
romanced the ******...
the mongols never made it...
nor the huns..
so much for "brexit":
with your lineage of currency...
and your status as an island...
glory! vistory! ******* and all!
because: best felt!
in... places... akin to... devon!
a londoner will abhor someone...
with origins in the vicinity of bristol...
like... because...
there's no other?
n'ah... this night is pretty much worth
all the other nights...
it's worth sleeping...
it's not worth... whatever: leftover...
"worth" of...
this... this "apparent"...
yep... leftover... be...
something for the worth of yale
h'american... or...
dignitary president...
officiated cul de sac executive orders...
it's... such an anglo-saxon fetish for...
*** beside the boudoir...
dodo, lilac... gimp... latex...
dickens...
liberty at:
i feign to allow myself to have... lapsed...
in what? good question...
even i... do not... attempt to baron
myself: over;
pithy... not pity... me...
you god-sucker...
******* ******* son's of eire...
me good-son...
term me: years! under...
the tsarina! *******...
new yawn-ker...
big mouth... no new bullseye...
the same old manchester...
the same ol'...
porky pies...
the same ol' chimneys and:
love's all... at cul de sac:
southend... porky pie munch:
luvvie: ol' guv.
yem: yup... ol' groove.. zzz-tizzle...
smart bruiser:
geezer with a sneeze pops up
at random places and jokes...
retards... lobotomy cruiser...
rhymes like... a cockey...
prior... to... tourettes... the lost...
the last... and what's:
the remains of...
the always... last...
and the worst... told... chalk of joke.
se relationship remainders...
we both got into smoking...
well... she was well ahead of me
in the cigarette domain...
no... however i will attire the event...
whatever verbiage...
it doesn't allow a "justice" to trickle down...
it just so happens that i want
to listen to some depeche mode...
and not some tool / porcupine tree...
13 years of smoking... from the nadir of
40 a day... locotomotive breath...
iron on the tongue... phelgm pancakes
harked in the morning from
a tobacco "hangover"...
oscilating around 20 per day...
for some time...
and all it took was a week... 10 days...
and i'm still in possession of 3 cigarettes...
and those two i reserve for the end
of the day ritual...
smoking the first is like:
finding oneself with a belly-full of
a child of gravity...
otherwise: gravity... unless falling...
to look up at the stars and the moon
and the sea: it's something you don't
exactly feel with two feet strapped
to the orb... no movement of
the tectonic plates...
sometimes with *******...
index and middle... of the left hand...
pushed under the right arm-pit...
to feel the pulse of the arteries...
i hardly think this is a call for celebration...
13 years can disappear like...
nothing even took place...
to substitute the habbit with...
reading... playing video games?
nibbling on carrots... nuts...
or just... waiting for the tide to recede...
and for a sea of patience to come
with tomorrow's tide...
all that... and none of it...
at the end of the day... the two cigarettes
are like a metaphor fo crack *******
or syringe strapping imitation
leech...
clear thinking: or therefore none...
no spaghetti muddles...
at best: imitation of biting into ice...
or... stretching a rubber-band until...
well: you can't feel it about to snap...
since it snaps...
a second gravity...
all concentrated in the stomach...
and esp. when the legs have not been
"properly" used up...
but remain tight-and-fidgety with goosebumps
when the ****** of tobacco lines the nerves...
i don't know why i can't celebrate this...
it's such a private event... such an exslusivity...
after all... in linear fashion:
to experience speed... a concentrated
exploration of space... within a hyper-dictum
of time...
in a linear way...
but a second gravity: without falling?
but otherwise whirling in the stomach?
a devil's decade: 13 years...
3 more... otherwise a dozen...
which is only 1 more...
the devil's dozen...
simon peter, andrew, james, john, philip,
bartholomew, matthew, thomas,
james son of alphaeus, simon the zealot,
judas son of james and judas iscariot...
count hey-zeus out of the equation...
there's paul...
and that's what eminem does...
when rapping... on white h'america?
changes the subject - a personal tirade over...
somehow i too link certain aspects...
13 years of...
this... oh so mediocre...
because: clearly... i don't know what
to make of it...
thank god i retained those
two cigarettes at the end of the day...
than have been hooked on nicorette chewing
gum / patches...
or the usual "a.a." support...
support: "support":
help yourself: by every single
and no dead or alive guru...
i really don't have anything
to write...
i'm walking away from
a 13 years of tobacco addiction...
and what i'm really thinking about...
the first thirsts of cold-turkey are long gone...
it's been under a week...
over a week... whatever...
what i'm really thinking about...
well...
how would it feel like...
to farm animals...
how does it feel to... pet animals...
a completely different dynamic...
after all... a farmer would own...
petting-worth animals...
like a cat... for... catching mice...
or a dog... to... warden... sphynx...
cerberus... watch-over the property...
how some would make the dogs
so ferocious... that a chain would
sometimes not be withstanding
to the ferocity of the barking...
eh... it's slightly off-putting...
to pet animals...
when you're being given a factory
edit of the original moo!
or snorkling in knee-deep-**** and mud
and rotten potatoes of pork...
i don't mind... the end product
is what interests me...
the **** is silk? tapeworm ****?!
or there-abouts...
but... it's so much different...
when you... farm animals...
lucky for me... my... somewhat...
immediate family still owned a farm...
and chickens in the yard...
oh yeah... catching a chicken is one thing...
amnesia of the chicken shack...
catch one... sure thing...
then with axe onto the stump...
head sticks to the stump...
last traces of life while the eyes roll back
and the tongue protrudes from the beak...
while... all the other chickens gather...
and start drinking the blood...
a bit like the two tiers of people...
some people must feel inclined to become
these... sociopathic farmers...
there are the humans you herd...
there are the humans you pet...
the ones you pet will probably find about
you herding them...
and rebel... since... you're not...
some gargantuan: ****** obvious...
miracle of a god descent... crown, pomp...
circumstance... all that was borrowed
from god... in splendour... heavens!
lo! behold... versailles was built!
the future charles III of england...
started 8pm today... on classic.fm with his own show...
i tuned in for a minute or two to hear
his voice...
i do hope that when ol' lizzie is dead...
he doesn't cower... he dons! he dons the title:
charles the third!
i ****** well hope... he doesn't become...
no... he can't become: george VII...
formerly known as charles: the prince of wales!
he has to be! charles the third!
he has waited this long!
he has to retain his name!
but that's the beauty of the monarchy...
it's so ******* pompous and omnipresent...
it doesn't hide... in... secular... grey-matter
of deep-state... there are just too many tiers
of power... even though... there's only symbolism...
but a reverence for it: nonetheless!
grey-matter of shadow-people in grey suits!
blinking: for god's sake! blinking black-holes
of hush hush: what was once...
the aristocracy... that's too replaced with...
the burden of crazed-loon bureaucracy!
i've quit smoking... well... "quit"...
2 cigarettes from 20 a day... circa...
is much better than a nicorette patch...
or some: pepperspray tasting chewing gum...
it's not a cigar... if you were asking...
but the original idea...
farming animals...
petting animals...
dogs... the ideal pets...
i'm sorry... i can't put on a leash or a muzzle...
a chihuahua can bite like a piranha...
i don't see the excuses needed to comfort
people afraid of big dogs... alsatians...
dobermans... that's the freedom allowed with cats...
if you get a chance to build their characters...
they will tend to take a dump in your
neighbour's garden...
yes... me... following sherlock feline...
with a black plastic bag and *****...
permission to... be allowed entry into your garden?
or are you... going to trebuchet that ****
back onto my lawn?
dogs or "petting" tarantulas? serpents?
the idea of petting went out of the window...
when... people started to fathom the...
what adjective?! to pet a ******* tarantula...
yes... me... running to the shop that sells
tarantulas... with caption: free tow-twos...
how about you keep that freak-****
in the jungle with all those gimp-suit sexed-up
antics... and i... get to...
farm a chicken... i get to... farm a pig?
no... of course no... although...
who couldn't be teased with latex jill and her
spider annex: library of "misdeeds"
for the library of: hard-ons...
now that you mentioned it... sure... i have a...
pressing concern... how to not...
over-cook pork...
see... pork is a bit like pasta...
you can serve it undercooked like beef...
but... it's also like chicken...
and beef... combined... you don't want
to serve it... overcooked...
only barbarians are fond of well-done beef...
probably arab...
they only stomach well-done steaks
or minced beef...
they have no palette for tartare steaks...
too much inbreeding with stinking lamb
does the trick...
whatever they might say of pork...
the aesthetic meat... leather too... shoes and belts...
lamb? for the slaughter?
eh... stinking puritanical meat worthy
of teacher 'ebrew and righteous son:
mecca ibn sudan.
because... ha ha... it's one thing being racist...
you know... detailing the physiognomy
differences between blacks and whites...
choccies and porky pies...
and the cinnamon people in between...
that's one thing...
it's like everyone was asleep...
the whites were racist...
the only people... ever...
but that's one thing...
i find it harder to digest...
there's no name for it...
kosher-ism... halal-ism?
to be... more racist than racist...
almost a vegan / vegetarian taming...
someone is being critical... of what you eat...
i imagine... malcom x being given a free
pass as a black totem in mecca...
shot dead... when converted... because...
still shuffled pork on the sly...
beside skin deep: please leavde your leather
shoes and belts... lace
beside the concept / concern for the mosque...
racism: morphed into an ideological
manifest...
for a while... let us leave thse
turban and tent dwelling folk
with their newly acquired riches
to the ***** of:
if i am to prepare lamb meat...
i treat it liky chilly...
the meat... stinks of something beside...
death... innocence prescribed...
you are told... wrong...
when ingesting the fruit of eden... somewhat...
these nomads of quasi-sikh turbans
for the women: the niqab girdle-grooms...
their wetted-appetites:
unable to satiate gyrocentrism leftovers...
and... pass from the living...
toward the theatre of the would be alive...
less the circumcised mess: misantrophes...
it's one thing to be chockie...
another to be porky-pink'ish...
but what you eat?
that's... somehow... off-putting?
puritan with some crab-meat
in this numbed jaw?
no one the persians rebelled against
the camel-jockey prescription of:
words only... no images...
pasta squiggles of phonetic encoding...
arabic... tironian a posteriori notations...
then again: one could argue:
tironian a priori notations...
shrimp-**** and eyes that would
resemble... at best... squinting from too much
sun... and at worst... ******* on a lemon...
12" of **** and the twelve-pounder
juicing worth of ***...
her ***...
for me to comment
on the mongol horde esque libido of
the fellow woman of my race...
no... the islamic idea of a heavenly harem...
mind you: it would satisfy her:
if she was to be crowned the juggling act
of three: at least one to compete with
the da vinci sodomites...
to be told you can't eat something...
i'm already a bad joke as:
"bweetish" as it comes...
tucked away with the afro-saxon...
the anglo-slav...
you just have those lips
that look like full-bloom best:
imitation: floral patterns of a ******...
best equipped for *******...
i swim: you sink...
you run... i start an arithmetic of catching
my breath...
the cinnamon people are...
if they are equipped with a polytheism
of the raj... and are saved with
culinary ambitions...
"we'd" call them the blue indians...
and that's also: to mind...
their elder: sanskrit...
पअरउत
र - or how the englishman lost the trill:
rattle-snake R: for rolling...
when he... became: the nuanced... keeper...
vanguard... of the Raj...
perhaps... the anthropomorphic genesis
in africa: givenz zee apulus... apex: gorrilolulz...
but... the sribbles and *******?
india the basin... akapit: paragraph:
the tear of sri lanka...
i.e. so much for me succumbing to the anglican:
we'z all wo'z allz: ex afri-ka'ka'kazia...
oh sure... sure... we... the sensible:
secular post-christians of the protestant wealth
of the west...
happy to afford the dumbed-down
congregations of the newly conscripted...
believers of africa and south h'america...
carrot dangling: run donkey! run!
one of your own: a pope! a cardinal!
poland is still running on that...
remark of... the passing of power...
the first pope to be given status of... saint...
john paul II the saint of:
kissing airport tarmac...
and then of course...
the hyped intricacy of the orthodox branch
of the bureau of hierogylphics and
synonymous litanies...
the events of the baltic sea:
would never be...
the sort of ****-show...
that... the events of the mediterranean sea...
hell... the events of the black sea...
christianity isn't merely dumb...
it's just... over-hyped...
the pork the pork... the pork!
who would require...
a criticism of pork and pig and ms. porky
to suit... alliance...
no matter... i'm on the cusp of quitting
smoking...
we can caricature our physiognomy...
but... how do you... caricature...
what you eat... your... sustenance?
you, black... have a pillow for a nose...
me, white... have a death's lack of...
i don't have a nose...
i have... a death's clench sucker...
i have a pinch nose...
so much for over-inflated lips...
and... my missing... elongated...
myth elves: the protruding ears...
like: no body...
current / the currency of
the now h'america... and the immediacy
of nostalgia: as a history: moving forward /
anywhere but back...
nietzsche opened up a nostalgia for ancient
greece...
h'americans... opening up... a nostalgia...
for 1950s h'america...
how can you write a future history...
from a stand-point / stand-off...
of nostalgia...
this... immediacy of nostalgia...
who's who and who isn't citing...
a richard brautigan... or... a frank o'hara?!
because: there's the sucker and no punch
for the next verse of...
****'s sake... walt whitman?!
o captain! my... john keating...
no... it's not about glorifying
the original intent... mr. president...
the english teacher...
mr.! thomas! bunce!
how can any history be written...
when there's... a nostalgia: impediment...
the hsitory of an immediacy
lacklutered by a past...
the past: however framed...
before... the dead are allowed to
turn and grovel in their graves...
i have 'ere... my gobble-whick of...
pretending: no shadows will
ever exist... at noon...
scrathing... timidy bed-fellows...
loitering squat...
we are to grovel for the cousin
imps and apes of: first born:
english born... navajo...
tortilla...
the old fling of england...
and the spanish...
the conquistadors...
loose nouns dog **** flinging applause:
i fall asleep in a bed:
i welcome the new day...
most... egregious (archaic)...
these western lands...
mmm... they're not very much akin
to our flavour...
that they dictate... refurbishment...
unless it's para-english...
alter- proto- welsh...
kashubian... masovian...
silesian...
kres...
ei hhynnal coch.. and it:
pronouns neutral: does... ****-wit...
gender-fluid-retardo: perfecto...
and i too wish i had...
themes of crusader songs...
but... i have none...
these that i marked...
teutonic knights of no order...
barbarossa being pickled...
livonians... prussians...
lithuanians...
i'm sorry...
that i'm too far away from
you to return to europe
from your: hubris...
in crafting... the...
conscripts: shikhs...
ask the russians! ask the rush-******-whips!
agony of a tongue: beside their own!
the post-colonial powers
return!
the post-colonial powers! make a return!
so much for those of us...
not having... a colonial past!
are we to pay for... such...
benevolent gracing
of gratitude from the people
"made"... under... colonial... rule?!
from the perspective of the strong...
why... am i... expected to treat
these care-bears with...
the right: equipped
manchester shovel?
you spike my drink
or am i... to... simply...
take the right, godly ****...
into all the urns...
the rest of you are to drink from?
i see my forehead glee: akin to my elbow...
and i call that phenomenon:
something benevolent of *****....
yep... not s'unni... but... shyte...
****.. persian: rebellion of camel-jockey...
****'ite... macron i...
dot's the worthy due: guillotine...
echo of the baltic sea...
we somehow: managed...
to lessen the romance...
unlike the english...
the romans conquered:
romanced the ******...
the vikings conquered...
romanced the ******...
the mongols never made it...
nor the huns..
so much for "brexit":
with your lineage of currency...
and your status as an island...
glory! vistory! ******* and all!
because: best felt!
in... places... akin to... devon!
a londoner will abhor someone...
with origins in the vicinity of bristol...
like... because...
there's no other?
n'ah... this night is pretty much worth
all the other nights...
it's worth sleeping...
it's not worth... whatever: leftover...
"worth" of...
this... this "apparent"...
yep... leftover... be...
something for the worth of yale
h'american... or...
dignitary president...
officiated cul de sac executive orders...
it's... such an anglo-saxon fetish for...
*** beside the boudoir...
dodo, lilac... gimp... latex...
dickens...
liberty at:
i feign to allow myself to have... lapsed...
in what? good question...
even i... do not... attempt to baron
myself: over.
Mateuš Conrad
May 2020
the universe doesn't balance itself out
when i give... what's necessary to a petted
animal...
a petted... animal...
something that's: the animation of
an otherwise inanimate worth of a table...
the eclipse of the moon...
given four legs and furr and a meow...
but... this world... this... juggernaut
realism of: lost... pondering schizoids
of: what's loss... and what's reality...
honestly?
the fact that i burden myself
with much cuddles... much cushioning
of "troubles"...
i pet a cat... i don't farm... a ******* pig...
although... i'd love to rephrase that...
i pet a cat... i milk... a cow...
i butcher a pig... i decapitate a chicken...
i "forage" for eggs: abortions...
i enjoy caviar...
esp. smoked salmon...
cucumber... dill... mayo...
bagel... rainbow trout overies...
****! i'd eat that sort of ****
in a pancake version...
oh... right... they do that...
in st. petersburg...
my bad...
no... i pet a cat... i pet a dog...
if i had a dog... it would be either
a rottweiler... or a dobermann...
and his dr. evil sidekick:
the dobermann-pischner...
the drwarf ******: geek heaven citation
pwetty lingo pwetty lingo... dachshund!
knee-cap serves: the curb...
and the jaw and bite...
expanding wonders of
copernican revisionism...
or so... the afro... was... told...
how did... the dobermann-pischner...
become the... dachshund?
ate the wrong mushroom...
watched m.t.v. at the wrong time
during the 1990s?!
the ****... happened to this... lacklustre
of... merlin...
knee-capping...
toe-tying and the brides
of... swan-lake imitation...
ballet! that one... celebrated... circumstance...
voyeurism of sadists...
safety... netted... ******* riddled...
flap...
it aches me to pet cats...
i should be farming pigs!
i should be... fake!
i won't eat a cat... though!
but i'd love to...
fake the sort of "petting"
that farming livestock involves...
to borrow from the brood of beef...
the sacrificial world:
advice...
why do i pet cats... why would i love
to pet a crow?
i do so... to escape...
what i hear... when...
people treat people...
worse than... **** treats maggots...
fore-runner! summon
the german!
vorderteillaufschiene!
there's... a ****** good reason...
why... michael portillo... didn't become...
the next leader of the conservative party...
gnats and the blonde blush: quiff...
scandi: wind-whipped ice-cream puff...
or... whatever...
it's such a terrible pointer to make...
why one pets animals...
rather than... herd them... farm them...
it's almost like...
what reading a book is...
to counter reading journalism...
a book to counter a day in
a newspaper's point...
of... the synonym of toilet paper...
books?! monster magnet of moths
and worms...
fair enough!
i pet animals... cats... dogs...
i farm pigs...
i race horses...
because... i want to escape...
what still remains...
how other humans treat fellow humans...
no excuses... but there are always
excuses...
it's that sort of automated "enough":
forgoe the farming of blid obedience...
for a "love" not wroth
a karen... a return embargo... pop / ****....
chisel the tree into a toothpick...
let's call it: the birch....
the sentence of a skinning
sentencing: closure... elaborate...
the: western lands...
why i will milk the cow...
jockey the camel...
and not ride... the bull...
into war... to counter the use of horse...
had i used bulls:
what worth of war hogs...
lament of the: lost leisures...
when one pets animals...
one doesn't farm them...
chickens' cluck plucking...
aeons of sunrise...
to pet an animal:
is to farm one...
and all that...
which is be made...
alternative sascrificial...
****'ite islam and...
islam from persia...
isn't...
camel jockey...
h'arabia...
mecca what new
tehran...
old iran: new islam...
xerxes: this old grief
with old "greece"...
before the shawls of the baltic...
sea come forth... come late:
and the blood boiling: to the brim...
i am tragic... tsar impressions...
i better pet a cat.. loss of leash...
i better pet a dog: leash included...
lessen: the farming
of poultry abortions...
i pet dogs... i farm... cows...
i endeavour to eclipse the buddha...
in how... chimpz became...
giddy-to-fathom-how-man:
and the hugh-mann...
i pet details of lost art...
because... the chickens flouted...
the concept of pigeon flight...
and the crow-pecking...
MORAE... mora varies:
the universe of punctuation...
to pet a cat... to tame a dog:
to befriend: via leash...
to harnass a horse...
such befriending alienation...
the crisp loot of the petted...
not farmed..
and... the reality of...
"who's who" of the detail
of chimp treating the next to nothing...
loop / loot of a gorillaz
loitering: kin: next...
no... the end...
here's me to... loitering over
your grave...
and when... madame tussauds...
takes to concern itself
with... the better lived-up second
cause... for excusing...
the last... run;
morose over the drying of ink...
and the best... equipped...
loitering of... hybrid wax:
told! rodin never could...
scoop... a better "hiob".
when i give... what's necessary to a petted
animal...
a petted... animal...
something that's: the animation of
an otherwise inanimate worth of a table...
the eclipse of the moon...
given four legs and furr and a meow...
but... this world... this... juggernaut
realism of: lost... pondering schizoids
of: what's loss... and what's reality...
honestly?
the fact that i burden myself
with much cuddles... much cushioning
of "troubles"...
i pet a cat... i don't farm... a ******* pig...
although... i'd love to rephrase that...
i pet a cat... i milk... a cow...
i butcher a pig... i decapitate a chicken...
i "forage" for eggs: abortions...
i enjoy caviar...
esp. smoked salmon...
cucumber... dill... mayo...
bagel... rainbow trout overies...
****! i'd eat that sort of ****
in a pancake version...
oh... right... they do that...
in st. petersburg...
my bad...
no... i pet a cat... i pet a dog...
if i had a dog... it would be either
a rottweiler... or a dobermann...
and his dr. evil sidekick:
the dobermann-pischner...
the drwarf ******: geek heaven citation
pwetty lingo pwetty lingo... dachshund!
knee-cap serves: the curb...
and the jaw and bite...
expanding wonders of
copernican revisionism...
or so... the afro... was... told...
how did... the dobermann-pischner...
become the... dachshund?
ate the wrong mushroom...
watched m.t.v. at the wrong time
during the 1990s?!
the ****... happened to this... lacklustre
of... merlin...
knee-capping...
toe-tying and the brides
of... swan-lake imitation...
ballet! that one... celebrated... circumstance...
voyeurism of sadists...
safety... netted... ******* riddled...
flap...
it aches me to pet cats...
i should be farming pigs!
i should be... fake!
i won't eat a cat... though!
but i'd love to...
fake the sort of "petting"
that farming livestock involves...
to borrow from the brood of beef...
the sacrificial world:
advice...
why do i pet cats... why would i love
to pet a crow?
i do so... to escape...
what i hear... when...
people treat people...
worse than... **** treats maggots...
fore-runner! summon
the german!
vorderteillaufschiene!
there's... a ****** good reason...
why... michael portillo... didn't become...
the next leader of the conservative party...
gnats and the blonde blush: quiff...
scandi: wind-whipped ice-cream puff...
or... whatever...
it's such a terrible pointer to make...
why one pets animals...
rather than... herd them... farm them...
it's almost like...
what reading a book is...
to counter reading journalism...
a book to counter a day in
a newspaper's point...
of... the synonym of toilet paper...
books?! monster magnet of moths
and worms...
fair enough!
i pet animals... cats... dogs...
i farm pigs...
i race horses...
because... i want to escape...
what still remains...
how other humans treat fellow humans...
no excuses... but there are always
excuses...
it's that sort of automated "enough":
forgoe the farming of blid obedience...
for a "love" not wroth
a karen... a return embargo... pop / ****....
chisel the tree into a toothpick...
let's call it: the birch....
the sentence of a skinning
sentencing: closure... elaborate...
the: western lands...
why i will milk the cow...
jockey the camel...
and not ride... the bull...
into war... to counter the use of horse...
had i used bulls:
what worth of war hogs...
lament of the: lost leisures...
when one pets animals...
one doesn't farm them...
chickens' cluck plucking...
aeons of sunrise...
to pet an animal:
is to farm one...
and all that...
which is be made...
alternative sascrificial...
****'ite islam and...
islam from persia...
isn't...
camel jockey...
h'arabia...
mecca what new
tehran...
old iran: new islam...
xerxes: this old grief
with old "greece"...
before the shawls of the baltic...
sea come forth... come late:
and the blood boiling: to the brim...
i am tragic... tsar impressions...
i better pet a cat.. loss of leash...
i better pet a dog: leash included...
lessen: the farming
of poultry abortions...
i pet dogs... i farm... cows...
i endeavour to eclipse the buddha...
in how... chimpz became...
giddy-to-fathom-how-man:
and the hugh-mann...
i pet details of lost art...
because... the chickens flouted...
the concept of pigeon flight...
and the crow-pecking...
MORAE... mora varies:
the universe of punctuation...
to pet a cat... to tame a dog:
to befriend: via leash...
to harnass a horse...
such befriending alienation...
the crisp loot of the petted...
not farmed..
and... the reality of...
"who's who" of the detail
of chimp treating the next to nothing...
loop / loot of a gorillaz
loitering: kin: next...
no... the end...
here's me to... loitering over
your grave...
and when... madame tussauds...
takes to concern itself
with... the better lived-up second
cause... for excusing...
the last... run;
morose over the drying of ink...
and the best... equipped...
loitering of... hybrid wax:
told! rodin never could...
scoop... a better "hiob".