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Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
god i love fiddling with Kant...
i still don't understand why
Nietzsche thought he was
a senile old bachelor in the end...

**** similis...
      the grand APE...

now...

    is the ape a creature:
a priori,

os is the ape a creature:
a posteriori?

then again, i was once accused
of speaking out of my own
*** by a slob Jew in
Edinburgh,
as i was also jested at
with the words
    'we'll crucify you'
at a UCL drama take on
the plight of the Palestinians...

**** me...
     motley crue dr. feelgood style...
i guess when the last of
the last Holocaust survivors
are dead...
  the gloves come off
and we can... rattle the bare-knuckle
slicks...

nope... i always preferred a drunkard's
slang to an ***-licking
            ****** addict's slack;
but don't get me wrong,
i could read a Burroughs' novel
in a day...
    just... drenched....
in (a) hypnotic chaos of juxtaposition;

frantic vagary...
like watching a **** of a fly
darting here and there;

p.s.
   (adjective & noun -
so, no... frantic vagary is not
a "misnomer"...
   it's a doubled emphasis).

ah... the benefits of acquired
rather than the native
usage of the, spreschen -
hen hen... no spre(h)-       -shen.
Sayali  Aug 2018
Radiosilence.
Sayali Aug 2018
A thin film of air quarantines the words,

And toggles them into reverse,

Settling them back under the tongues.

The eardrums condensed by a deep warble,

Nothing heard, nothing said,

The pupils swelling like planets through a telescope lens,

Tired eyes gazing, as time flings itself in sepia and grain,

Planting memories of twilights on a park bench after a rusty Monday,

As you looked over a five year old dressed as a ballerina,

Of subtle brushes of the fingertips,

While you walk into the grocery shop in your robe,

The throat starts to build a lump,

And translating it into a warm feeling,

You stay rooted,

As,

The eyes,

Watch,

Un-love,

Wait,

Listen,

Surrender,

And love again,

In Radio silence.

— The End —