these western leftist,
make us former commies...
look... really really
******* bad...

        my grandfather,
who was abandoned by his
father, spewed by the lies
of his father's brother,
found some stability
in the communist party...

sometimes did jury duty...
the communist party
gave him a house... etc. etc.,
but this, "thing" in the west?
the dissonance conundrum
of creating a collective hive?

it doesn't, and it will never work...
i already said this,
but i'll say it again...
communism does work...
but in only one instance...
post-war countries,
esp. given the plight of
Syria...
                
           it's a transitory period...
so the Syrian baker
can trust the ******* Syrian
taxi cab driver, once again...
communism is not a failure
in that it's applied as
a fail-safe concept,
a rebuilding mechanism,
  
like Poland... 1945...
through to circa 1990...
    it worked...
  **** it worked...
  eastern Europe didn't
receive funds from the American
Marshall Plan...

but Sweden and Switzerland
did...
   i thought they were neutral
countries in the conflict?

communism is a failure if its not
considered a recovery economy,
or rather:
    there's no or other at this point...

in post-war scenarios,
it's the only egalitarianism that works
in the short-end...
this is not English style of
egalitarian idealism...
   (a term i borrow from German
idealism of Kant)...
            no... the English don't know
that their egalitarian idealism
doesn't work...
it's too soft...
the war was harsh...
you're not going to rebuild
the same civic plateau with capitalism,
of a country that was either:
invaded by a foreign power,
or imploded into chaos via
a breach of ethnic-civility...

you can't rebuild Syria with
foreign intervention...
communism is far from a failure
of ideology...
   it was always supposed
to instigate a transitional
period, a post-scriptum...
   a communism can exist,
successfully, for... roughly 50 years...
once the tragedy passes...

and then the free markets can
take over, capitalism can have its
"stage fright", or rather its
wild west...
            but not before the circa 50
years are over...
  a Syrian baker,
   must begin a civil dialectic with
a Syrian taxi driver...
no amount of foreign intervention
will solve the problem...

it's not like you can reuse
the rubble to rebuild the same houses...
sure... the darkest hour
in Poland under communism was
when martial law (stan wojenny)
was implemented by
Wojciech Jaruzelski
(Roy Orbison, no, really,
Roy Orbison)...
food-stamps, long queues at supermarkets
rationing... only white vinegar on
the shelves of supermarkets...
the whole presupposition of war
against the Soviets,
  counter measures to
      avoid the instances of
the Hungarian / Czechoslovakian
occupation / suppression...
   the Parisian spirit of '68...
every time i look into your loving eyes,
one look, from you,
  i drift... away!
    i pray, that you, are here, to stay!
anything you want, you got it...
anything you need, you got it...
anything at all, you got it...
   bay.................................. be!

western Europe received pittance
pay-checks from H'america...
eastern Europe received the hard graft of
communism...
             and it worked...
because it was supposed to work
for the 50 or so years that it did work...
when it stopped working...
my home town lost roughly 20K
   metalwork jobs...
  the metalwork factory was scrapped,
cut up, sold to foreign investors...
Celsa? i believe that's a Spanish company...

some people grew old, retired,
some went on the dole,
some became homeless,
some migrated to other parts of the country,
otherwise took the bold route
and emigrated to other parts of
Europe and the world...
a town dies, the people disperse
if in a dispersing worthy age...

     but i turn on the tube...
and listen to all these leftist lunatics,
and i'm like...          what?!
communism works,
   it works, in exceptional circumstances,
and like i said, before an equal
footing competition market resurfaces,
you're getting ****...
             this is not to suggest that
communism is at odds with capitalism...
apparently... it never was!

         but... you can't rebuild
Syria with capitalism...
  first you have to return to a commonly
shared civility, a counter to what
already exists in the English egalitarian idealism...
best represented as:

a 200m race at the Olympics...
all the competitors walk an equal
pace for 100m...
        and the next 100m?
they do their sprint, they compete!
but not until communism creates
a basis for a mutual trust of civility
between a Syrian baker,
and a Syrian taxi driver...

      capitalism and outright
competition will never solve the problem...
because outright competition
creates nothing more than
an dystopian: post-apocalyptic
mad max: fury road endless cycle of
recurring opportunists...

scavengers...
                      it works... in periods of
roughly 50 years...
what... and capitalism isn't prone
to its own timescales of economic crashes?!
see...
             even capitalism has hiccups...
but like i said:
    communism works...
for time periods, post-scriptum of
the damaging events...
                        under exceptional circumstances
of it being necessarily implemented...
like world war II... the Syrian civil war;
and only then!

****... my grandfather and all the other
school children, actually cried
when news hit the country about Stalin's death...
i have access to an actual ****** source,
what do you have?
  a target of ridicule,
        donning a che guevara t-shirt
who still hasn't rid himself of acne?

even hegel read jakob böhme                   (boo m'eh) -
to keep the democratic spirit - obviously the Kardashians don't
know a hairbrush from a toothbrush - but that hardly matters -
what matters is how Pearl Harbour turned into karaoke applause -
the idea of an american in europe: spaghetti slurping  -
even that considering the "special"
       relationship of anglophiles -
    anatomy of antagonism:
        spaghetti swindlers of talk -
slurping that tangle into an easily sold
global affair would never juice up the idea
to think about my neighbour as someone
i'd care to be;
          and as common with the postmortem
childhood educators, the curriculum of such
people always stated: learn otherwise -
       no wonder their screened the
personal vanities of Versailles in the 21st century
coming from the 18th and 17th century -
learn the truths concerning the genesis
of the 21st century in the 24th century at least...
i'm under the righteous impression:
most of the people i live with have
been savaged by science fiction,
and the slowness of science in itself
that they are tattooed with a care for now,
but never tomorrow... imagine living in a society
that pays its workers in month's wages than
in week's wages... can you imagine it?
the two re- debate: again quick (reflexive),
and the again slow (reflective) -
if i'm glorifying the latter than the former?
oh, that question... you have to reply with:
usury and why the libido of old men
equips young girls to the same libido,
and why young men are worthy of a war memorial
and the mud of trenches...
and why young men can't with enzyme-fervour
bind of the satiated young woman sexually
compete... and why so many say: **** it.
one *** spends its youth barraged by usury -
and all other hamster wheels,
the other *** parties with the cocksure crowd:
and then you expect a withstanding human bond?
ha ha.    forget it... hey lady, how's that old man
treating you? he's the pope, i know.
                         forged from the Martian
        ashen heat cooling: in how she thought
the two would meet and raise a family in the mythology
of Eden... when she got paid her student fees
by sugar daddies, and he got spit to extract feeding
handshakes - that only turned into jacking off
                                                                ­      gambles.    
  she now the happy soul fathomed as the bigoted
              entrenchment in this world: as forever
  and if only trying: then at least expecting war
to solidify the point.
                just the other day in Camden Market:
she's complaining about her libido with older men,
   he's complaining: your problem is that you go
for older men... oh ****, then all the problems of
natural correlative assertions, and children to
masquerade the real problems... and pop culture
and what's being gagged (apart from the gimp,
forever caged and clad in leather, and a mouth
that's really an ****) -           the children suffer
    from would otherwise been a beneficial anti-evolutionary
suggestion: that i was recipient of the outside environment,
rather than the inside environment of some benefiting
sir esquire toff -                 give me my tail and fur back!
   i don't care for gymnastics or vogue! give it back!
******! this ain't an improvement,
                 who heard of primeval predators building
guillotine scaffolds (although, i admit, that's humane) -
or ****** Mary being beheaded with a blunt blade -
or gas chambers... when i think of tigers i think of
humanity greater than man with his apple i7 phone -
i think of vampires... i find it hard to believe
we evolved from what was already perfect...
                   to improve what? we were always outsiders...
    narrators - then again, if i'm the sort of
"creationist" scumbag, then i can just say:
Chinese and Welsh dragons and dinosaurs...
   and to be honest: history is obsolete given the
two timescales of the big bang (what a ****** name
to start things off... heard a bang in a vacuum?) -
              and monkey -
                                             which is no wonder
why history died given the timescales, and why we
are overly saturated with journalism, the 24 hour reels
and nothing really happening in those 24 hour counting
                   mechanisms:
which is no surprise journalism resurrected a pseudo-dialectics,
   i.e. an opinions section - and there they are,
like third world dictators, unchallenged, journalistic
freedom is the last thing to fight for right now,
   not when journalists don't have any journalism to give,
  and invoke the need to be opinionated,
and in thus being the above said: unchallenged.
                 Colonel Falafel? sign me up!

i wouldn't be looking for a grain of sand
(biology and physics involved in
the extreme of timescales as necessities
of prescriptive ontology akin to paracetamol),
to pass the time looking at paint dry
or the kleptomaniac amphetamine ******
trying to allocate time a spacing: clepsydra -
i'd be looking for a Napoleonic mountain -
something grand, something audacious -
something crowd pleasing; i'd be looking
for a mountain rather than a grain of sand,
a Mohammed's brow of pleased foresight
forged by pleasing excitement: when
-ed got in the way of -ing upon revision -
the necessity of the verb: (to) please.

and of him they said three things:
1. the death of death
2. the man who turned himself into a tree
3. of the men that will instil fear
    into the children of others
4. did you know that there was a child
    born without a brain in Poland?
    yep! no brain, he could talk and walk
    but he didn't have a brain... no, not that he
    was a hillbilly intellectually... he literally had no brain...
    just a woodpecker in the cranium of war-drums bellowing
    out a familiar tune of geese strapped to a
   methodology of synchronisation...
(5. rightfully alcoholic and apostate catholic,
      know any better sedative?
     Priest Rydzyk: radio Maria:
     hoi hoi huj! as if the Vatican isn't the
     oldest name for Mafia -
     usurper of education in orthography,
     a question of aesthetic and lessened
     rigour is relevant: as is the prevalent
     notion of *chomąto - or the missing tail
     on the a, as in o & n:  the ą stress was always
     nasal, so, chomonto - unless we encourage
     the English to use diacritic marks,
     we'll have to unravel what makes a couplet
     of diacritical vowel and consonants -
                                  and not cheap -
      but hope -                   c's apparently
      optional, or, would you believe,
      a monopoly... d'uh, what else?
      the more i hear of Poland
      these days the more i make assurance
      to not speak anything but English...
      chomąto, i.e. noble herb? no!
                               horse collar - to oar the fields
for french fries - just like the modern children
who say milk comes from a supermarket
and not a cow... the Bermuda ****** tweak
of revisionists' scandal: to improve humanity.
altogether another way to say
                     behind this man there was no woman
for you to imitate writing and outright
subordination -
                              shady creatures, women,
long lost artefacts of womanhood:
the Graeae sisters and Medusa - ******* saints
in the feminist dogma -
                                       soon to be released:
feminism and Plato, feminism and Nietzsche,
feminism and ******, feminism and Leibniz,
feminism and Einstein, feminism and Putin,
feminism... **** me! the long lost theory
of everything! we've found it! stop digging!

let's just see where you'll be given this current populism of
Darwinism antidote, dietary requirements of
the size of your ****? let's just see where left-off,
let's see where Darwinism begins
and Shakespeare ends,
because we're living in times when the two matter,
the dating scene especially,
the Galapagos intrigues never made it to
Palmer's Green, or Strand,
Shakespeare subjected us to objects within
a framework of potential,
Darwin objectified us to be subjects within
a framework of failure -
which made fashion sensible; most people take
selfies, others write ~poems,
care less about the rhyme and more
about the impromptu tendency -
live it once, think about it many times.
Olympics is pure Sparta, what i love watching,
Edinburgh fringe is pure Athenian -
what i care not to think of, being a part of, crude,
a Spartan in St. Petersburg with my
grandfathers motto: fizyka (physics), matematyka
(mathematics) i sport (sport), one fatal omission:
music (muzyka).
watching the Olympics is primarily a Spartan
past-time, but the brotherhood, **** me!
there aren't any actors on the stages,
the Romanian fencing team against the Chinese
in the épée - dyslexia primus Gael -
secondus Anglia - hidden hedonism -
excess spelling - i was Spartan for a while,
that's when women liked me...
after that i became obscene and dangerous...
you touch me from now on i'd imagine
a fate worse than that of Iscariot....
you can try, i don't mind, just try, i'm gagging
to launch a crusade; kicking a man down
will not excuse you kicking him into a digging sequence'
oh please try! please derive some form of Islam from it...
i got used to hallucinations, i'd like to see too see you
become ultra-claustrophobic, for nothing else than the kicks.
but when they come with their Darwinism i feel
like an idiot having no awe left,
i actually stop wanting to reproduce an have start-up
strategies for families... i want to be dodo
and leave the idiots to their own demise...
every time Darwinism's cheat moves in chess
is mentioned to give me the advantage i turn into a dodo...
it becomes so disengaging with the world having
all the facts for free... it's this new formation from
the Roman legion turtle arrangement excavating assurances:
thanks to feminism she's hardly the prize two
bucks buzz with their antenna in a boxing ring...
can i compete for a kebab or a Swiss roll than her
menopause to simply convene and up-keep her "company"?
my misogyny isn't virus borne,
it's a natural cataract that makes us look like
thanksgiving turkeys force-fed the dynamo we all wished
to obstruct for a gurgling quack, even man's onomatopoeia
worth of echo could not, or ever would depict the
phonetic stresses that obviously doesn't mean
that turkey ever gurgled... man's interpretation
of god's incision into the world left us with
no true encoding of animal sounds, but only
what we approximated: onomatopoeia, the alleviated noun,
being the Genesis of poetic rhyme, so the lessened
suffering eased with rhyme, where man's tongue
exerted influence that it shouldn't have,
rather kept its intuitive sabotage of all other influences.
i mean, how far will Darwinism take you
before the sour or the bitter palette reciprocation takes over?
i reduced everything to juggling,
it's easier in a circus than in some form of the operatic,
as i told my mother: easier to deal with a household
animal friendly than in a household animal hostile,
makes up for sunshine, that schematic,
we mind 1 dead in western society, but simply add up
70 dead in Pakistan, we're unconsciously inheriting
Hindu traditions with full media support,
to belittle ourselves with animal to regain human
antidotes of the myth of the fall erased...
but as i said, concentrating the arrow of Darwinism against
the target of theology will not necessarily let
you shoot that arrow from the bow of chemistry-physics
at the target of dogmatic body-language bending and
kneeling and palm-reading...
not everyone will appreciate Darwinism's subjectivity,
if there is any... if man keeps changing categories,
equating male superiority with mammals
and feminism with insects like the case of spiders
and mantis marriages... i think of Darwinism as some
weird microscope... we are given a rainbow of object
and we're supposed to create a subjectivity from the choices...
in the end we're given too many choices,
and we make too many of them in the first place,
multiply the two and we're only choosing more choices,
by multiplying categorisation we're choosing more choice,
and in the end we only get the "Utopian"
plateau of dissatisfaction...
i'm not saying Darwinism is wrong, i'm saying:
look at the ******* timescales... big bang an the monkey-format,
and our Monday to Friday... it's not exactly
sensible...
                   what to do from here?
isn't it enough that i noticed a problem for our behaviour
without signifying that it resembles our treatment of
criminals with prisons that i have to suggest a safety-plan
for escape when the criminals have no civilisation
to return to, given their uncivilised treatment?
it's seems kinda pointless to have asked that question
in the first place, purposely avoiding corrective
punctuation markings, a depiction of an asthmatic.

some of the dryness will bleach from pithing
your noetic strands and the rest, a ****
prinked rind deluded.

i dip cupped hands into the lowlands, scraping
fractal mold flakes captioned, answers in light
crowded lenses.

cubic rift, that, i will toss adoration engines,
in the end, the goddess of substance will
not react.

not retrace, not the rift. mortaled caper,
inflection of the flats, grinded
reactions. grinding thoughts
grounded.

scribbled to-dos spreading forth, immurdered.
tokenized spice cabinets, enter rift
refuge. the caper collapses on molar-novas,
solar lepidoptera folding in your hair.

the sweat-between-us hive. the separatist mind.
salt mines alarm us, a subject deepened
between two gestures. have you the stratum
of intention?

germinal grains, embryonic clock tower -
mineral lies don timescales
tucked in our hereafter mattress.

i will deathlessly dry with a towel
unless i’m showering with it, a full commit
to the status kiss.

[after all that, you still love me,
in the bedlam trees the choral key,
the old oak door embroidery
are pieces of me scattered (spelled) naturally.]