(for Nietzche, who cowers behind art.)

The world calls the conquered ******
to remember that the sun every night yearns

to rise, to rise, to rise

when there is no guarantee, no promise, no sure thing.
Yet still it yearns

to rise, to rise, to rise.

The world called Canaanites ******
while they traded and toiled along the shores
of land promised to the aged heretic of Sumer,
whose wife could give only love.

The world called Hebrews ******
while they raised Pharoah tombs
Provided respite from the eastern chariots
Stubborn in refusal of the living gods
Drinking only Eloheim's bitter grape
That provides brief respite from his decrees
When delving deep in one's cups.

The world called Britons ******
When flogged Boudicea fought and fought and finally fell
To Roman spear and gladius
When Angles and Saxons raided then stayed
When Cromwell climbed the pale cliffs

The world called the Iberians, Gauls and Teutons ******
when Caesar crossed the Rubicon
Pax Romana for Citizens born
Land for the wealthy, voting rights too
Taxes and tithes from their toil.

The world called the Khoikhoi of South Africa ******
From the VOC to fatal Apartheid
Up rose a man
The heart of the land
A man named Nelson Mandela.

The world called the Viet Minh ******
from Can Vong to Dien Bien Phu
'till they slogged howitzers above
to reign Napoleonic terror below.
And to them it was just
The American War
After the world called them
Vietnamese.

The world calls the conquered ******
to remember that the sun every day yearns

to rise, to rise, to rise

When there is no guarantee, no promise, no sure thing
yet still it yearns

to rise, to rise, to rise

'though it never watches its own rising
undoing raiment of fading embers
swimming naked in the royal blue
bathing all with daily newborn naked glory
chasing the celestial tidal tease
that seems to wander where it please
reminding that all are born free
but can grow into ignorance
and be called ******.

Seek truths
that hold in unity;
that provide nourishment
beneath the lash
allowing one

to rise, to rise, to rise.

Invincible for the empire roman;
That fury and vengeance was his language;
How Viriathus as vanquish around 200 years;
And lusitânia wasn't clears;

Port du graal was it's the place;
How was hidden the Holy Graal;
The secrets and wars was case;
And raise the Portugal;

The Kingdom for war and conquer ;
Was spoken by a glory Europe;
The spanish, french,english and Dutch ;
Bowed over the mighty Avis Master;

The glory and death of The Empire ;
Was not clear , the kindgom was gone;
The King D.Manuel II wasn't the bel;
But was bare wire;

Know Lusitania is lost;
So high is the cost?;
We never know the reason;
But Iberians gonna be the new season;

for those yet, imagining themselves alive...
i "kwa'ight"....
quiet... quite...
         acquitted...
if there's a rock to be lived
under:
i'll just be the rock... i once had a faint
notion that i was alive...
i had what might be congested in a summary:
a thirst... a willingness...
summary and all those
broken things... "things"...
within the enraged solo
projects of solipsists...
self-"betterment" up a cul
de sac... has... infiltrated my
breathing: crease... count in german:
eins zu zehn
jeden do dziesięć...
   kurwa jebana mać...
poor traffic... thd ******* blinkers are
on... a turning right done awry...
ein(s)... one... jeden...

eine ein eins jeden raz one
zwei dwa two
drei trzy three
vier cztery four
fünf pięć five
(pięść is a denotes a fist... a faust)
sechs sześć six
sieben siedem seven
acht osiem eight
neun dziewiendź nine (nein nein)
zehn dziesięć ten....

mind you...
be drop the pointless diacritical marker
on the iota... we'd see more "punctuation"
markers: where, otherwise: we wouldn't...

i congested myself with counting
in three languages to somehow...
ease-up...
ten? informant: he / him!
ta? informant: she... shimmy(?!) her's...
hisses of his'...

i will not bring the Iberians into
this discussion...
what's left, though? scraps
of language and language policing...
******* and bells...
twang... death to the ditto... blah blah:
bleach and mythological blondes...
scraps i do one job good for you...
most... better... will not trace lineage...
no smear...

          t"they" never think less of
the Yugoslavs... i'm tired of being a punching bag of a people...
of all "people": the Irish not 'ard enough to
challenge the English have to find...
come the Soviets come the Nazis simultaneously...
looks like integrating into English society
didn't allow me to forget...
this zunge doesn't erase the ******* blows...

rich, though... no surprise that the Reesh
would squander and throw their *******
potatoes like monkey **** at...
oh i guess: shelved "life"... peoples...
if i were living back among my brethren...
i don't think i'd be living at all...
what would i do with not being
agitated concerning... minor... qualms?

the ******* leprechauns... priests...
are less than the english...
but are somehow tier above the pollacks?
it's no offence when it sounds proper...
in a foreign babble...
dzida...

          i'd just ask the Eire son...
so... ahem... where's your ******* Celtic?
gone... non-existent?

aon, dhà, trì, ceithir...
   còig (what's wrong with co'ig?)
sia,
seachd, ochd... naoi... deich...
so the grapheme CH = X of greek origin...
a ******* hark?

the Irish like the ******* Arabs...
the British did this to: oos...
it's impossible to live with these
go-to-party "solipsists" to begin with...
integrate? into... or for what?
rot? that's a-plenty...
but when some spaghetti monsters
and those potato jargon-fiddlers start
their usual **** about a fellow
european people...

it's not like the Croats or the Serbs are
ever mentioned...
they vent to h'america and youz zee...
zese irish and italliano guinnea pig-me-ups...
kwoss-eyed... you know...
best bitterest better...
inbreeding... takes a chunk of coal...
chalk and cheddar...
mustard...

  inbreeding mentality... superiority complexes...
no reimagines parmesan cheese like
it's not... shredding... old skin
off of heels...
talk stinkiny witchy with a missing R...
this massive ******* gloat of "riddle"...
that suppose: it's also a man...

       while the world... "also" happens...
these little: belittling interferences...
as if we were all supposed to be crowned kings
or queens... it's not that i'm even elevated
above these concerns...
but that i must have them...
must: if i were a king... i most probably wouldn't
even entertain the sense of hearing
on their existence!

in a society of sociopaths and solipsists...
a massive get together
of protest happens once in a while...
i get drunk and dump ****** words
onto paper...
i'm not alone in this "adventure":
yet i'm beginning to be...
more and more sorry for having
such... indigestions to sorrow over...
moral relativism is out
in the words of the choicest
of the choiciest...
   i'm looking for something beside
the superlative adjective: choicest...
the diminutive "concern"...

which doesn't exist in english...
and i can't exactly introduce it using my:
mutterzunge either...
correct spelling?
look at it... choiciest vs. choicest...
the most most choosey...
to pick of calculus exponentially incremental
details of observable shifts...
the exponential aspect of detail...

how many of the Irish still speak
their Gaelic...
apparently there's a Scotch version
of the tongue...
but... the Scots will not speak it...
completely submerged in their union...
they'll just exfoliate in how distinct
they are from a Loon'don'er
speaking the same language...
you could probably rewrite trainspotting
using that linguistic language
embedded in the dictionary
of:

   how i met your mother, the mute...
/ (haʊ) /
       / (aɪ) /
                 / (mɛt) /
               / (jʊəp) /
                               / (ˈmʌðə) /,
                        / (ðə) /          / (mjuːt) /

i wonder... and what if we started writing
like this? proper... phonetically...
like linguists?
the side note of /(x)/ though...

the written word is doubly ambiguous...
to the point of no return concerning
the sufficiency of its practicality of use...

ʃeɪk  ænd
                ˈʃætə...

if i had the time and *******' worth of
writing a poo'em like a linguist...
if i had more love for the Irish...
sowwy... all love spent on the Scots...
from these Isles at least...

sheikh who? shake your: *****?
that's ******* fwank zapp'ah...
      
but it's not that... i have qualms with
the Irish over the stature and seriousness
when occupying the "underground"...
i won't rap: god forbid i...
"**** someone": my catchphrase
wouldn't be:

allahu akhbar... it would be that teutonic chant
of: gott! mit! uns!
if that Norwegian hyper-smart terroroist
chanted those words...
what words? these words:
gott! mit uns!

   but around these isels...
you'd think there might be a sense of solidarity...
among the catholic irish and the
catholic poles...
but no... tępy ajrysz...
  blunt-irishman...
                  one side arguing for the other sides
dislodging of "i.q."...
same with those spaghetti swindlers...
the...

mind you... ****** is not a racial slur...
it's actually better to denote a pole a ******
since... not kinh john: lackland...
the whole hiss-tow-stowwy...
i'm not pole: positioned...
i'm not...

    divorced from "my" people:
and the "mother" land...
                  Warsaw the last great end-venture...
keeping it up...
mawa: little old gone...
         in the hunch fabric of
lessening the diaspora approach...
you don't think i mind the missing links...
when there's a collected agenda for the purpose
of a purge of the intelligensia...
now... because only the Jewry suffered
a historical lineage of tonguies
towing complaints....

         **** it: the russian sayingly... newly invented:
**** me?! ******* too!
but in the english realm who's the lesser
******* among the polacks and the irish?
who's less gingerbreadman?
my side... most probably...
how will we ever let the 20th century become
past?
oh **** me... we will need another
war... but chances of that are...
sort-of-slim...

             no? it might begin with:
bypassing loan-words...
and how self-help gurus and famous psychologists
refrain from infiltrating lost hybrids of
focus, that there might be a clearaance to
discover society outside the realm of pop!
saavvy?
i don't like this...
psychological testimony of:
what's an alpha male?
not me... what's a beta male?
not me... what's a malaise?
what's an omega man?
everything that an alpha male is...
in that... there's an antonymous discharge
of needs... requests...
demands...

how many Irish still speak their...
diego / alfonso magic "whisker" ****?
that ******* Gaelic?
so much for aardvark "typo" in Scotch...
because it just so happens...
you speak an over exfoliation of lettering...
the aesthetically bogus: claim of...
no... no "originality":
i'm not even going to bother the higher
tier of diacritical markers to
instigate "something"...

but this whole: i'm a lesser "european" when
it doesn't suffice in north american parlance...
i'm sort of... em.... ******* bothered?
history seems to be a lesson
in teasing small-**** and the infinite
summary of infancy... last time i heard...
because the Mongols never made it to... "x"...
because the Turks never had ownership of Vienna...
because it took both the Nazis and the Soviets
to make me bow...
in England? the invention of snooker...
tennis... football... rugby...
bored people... obviously...

how: else: woudln't you have capacity...
need... to invent so many coliseum...
distractions to mind: and take seriously...
if you knew: you were an island dwelling folk...
and you staged your pride in not being
invade-prone...
a bit like the whole of east London's
pakistani-land...

wake up 40 years from now... from...
little bengali land...
the Pakistani grooming gangs of the supposed...
while i'm getting more and more irrritated
by paying for ***...
having Bulgarian ****** pretending to be
Romanian....
you see the grit in my use of teeth that aare never used to
nibble and conjure...
a "drying of bones"?

i will complain about the Irish as i will about the
tail-tan'ohs...
******* spaghetti slurppers...
we of the same European origins and the same
brain-drain... because the anglo-saxons
fiddled out a mechanism for...
a "coming together"... of...
a people... just like germany was confederated...
into a federality...
wow!

  the pope receding... on paper...
the Irish make complaints against the Polacks...
the Irish demean the Polacks...
nice nice... here's to me equipping myself with
Haitian "nouns"...
you, *******... ginger: knuckle-fiddle-numb...*****!
what Celt wishes himself to have
a Cyrillic ancestry?! almost all...

have your little i.r.a. memento...
       i'm only concerned about
a pomeranian, conrad... quest...
aren't the czechs / hungarians locked into
that... posit of being: without an access to
a "window"... hardly... that the baltic...
already is... Samaritan....

porsch monkey: among the slurrs... "poet"...
pshek in... denotative lingo...
it's a: thank you...
i call you worse:
    karot... burak... syberik....

thankful though: it's hardly a slur...
king John was known as lackland...
given the shrinking of the Angevin empire...
thus "we"... shrunk to the duchy of warsaw:
a satellite of Napoleon's ambitions...
then the Warsaw Pact...
pandering to the Bolsheviks...
blah blah: now more pandering to
woke ha-ha-h'americanacancan...
the mythological blonde: always on my mind...

the first words in my language
they managed to speak and they somehow managed to
call it a slurr... and polish: paul-leash isn't?
pole position, heading north?

say strawberry in ******?
TRU-S-KAWKA...
     paul's on a leash of nibbling on the quarters
and halves of would be barons of pandemonium...
we were teenagers once...
and once upon in an Ilford mall...
we bought compact disks...
rival schools... fugazi...
coal chamber's dark days...

  those where somewhat architecture days,
though...
you can't make this **** up...
you probably have had to live it, sort of.

- otherwise who can't forget the flight of the Jewry
from the area...
once there was a makeshift synagogue on
Coventry Rd.,
now there's a 7th day evangelical war band
gathering pulpit... source...
i was expecting a mosque: in all honesty...
it's a common suggestion:

now first comes the flight of the Jewry...
the whites are somehow 2nd...
but as i explained to my mother today...
i feel sick in a monochromatic...
homogeneous society...
i went to Cheltenham once...
to hussle my own self-published book...
i felt ill seeing so little minority
representation...
it's not like i'm brainwashed...
but among these minorities in Loon-dune
i'm a ******...
back in Warsaw i'm a feral animal...
among "my people" i'm zero-punkt-zero-nic...

the vagabonds of the world decide to congregate
in Loon'don... for some reason: ulterior or
altogether "other"...
the world has congregated:
is this still about the English having their
nationhood infringed?
perhaps from a perspective
of the Midlands... Birmingham...
but over 'ere...

funny that... i live in England...
but i probably interacted with more Irish
and more Scots than the supposedly
demographically first...
i probably encountered more Pakistanis too...

so what's the difference between
a Samaritan and a Sarmatian?
you're running? i thought i ran...
i might run... who's running?
is it raining?
is that... ****'ite iconoclasm?
sign me up...
            
but living among the Irish who are
not living in Ireland...
a tired old bunch... sometimes...
it's hard to fathom their identity crisis
since a whole swab of them
spoke a zilch of Gaelic...
it's like with these over-impressed
succcess stories of "integration"
from olive-pound land /
****** copper...

the parents want to integrate...
that **** backfires...
the grandson retains the tongue
to his grandma to speak
back to her her native...
yet his... "in-between"... "integrational english"
becomes a sick joke: stereotype...
almost a cul de sac accent...
the sort that has to breathe into a phrase:

oi oi! bown and bwead!
  em... bone and bread?
how does that work?
i guess it must work "miracles" from places
where the ingestion of gelatin is
foreign... transcending "foreign":
too alien to compose...

yes... detailing the promises of pork, pig...
the most economically sound
animal: beside the hoofs...
you can utilise almost... "almost": all of it...
one way of the other...
an animal that can never be a waste:
unless you're into dabbling into a cannibalistic diet...
plus... lamb... lamb: *******: stinks...
the aged lamb...
plus... how would you herd pigs...
pigs aren't herded...
it's a theological anger at...
camel-jockeys being unable to... harvest
the only potential of farm-food... via the pig...
pigs aren't herded:
i've only heard of a herd of pigs
and that's when there came a time
to treat a trough like an array of teats when
the porkies were 'ung...
is it a despised animal?
a despised animal because:
and the devil reimagined himself as a pig?

so god looks like a mythological blonde...
the devil looks like a piggish minotaur...
why this demise of pig?
why this gratification in the islamic mirror
of words looking accessible: i.e. dog | god...
my all mighty: allah: blah-lah...
fork in the road: are we 'appy... "now"?

but when you live among the diaspora of the Irish...
you'd sort of suppose... what's the gaelic for green?
now that the internet is here...
i can find out for myself...

why demean the pig? was the pig created by
the ******* devil?
or is this one of those Abrahamic ploy-toys...
rigidity structures...
to leave you surrendered...
go against anything else: beside the pig...
it's such an economic model, creature...
you can utilise almost all of it...

not all of us were born Afghan sheep
herders... savvy?
that eating pork is somehow signature
of inbreeding and s schizoid tinture...
wh'ah?! i lost the TAU along the way...
o.k.?!

it's a waste of time having arguments
with... oh forget: rag-muffin'...
inbreds... i wass thinking about ***...
i picked a spot... Rotherham...
Pakistani grooming gangs...
oh... right... here's a lollipop... here's some dosh...
i'll get a hard-on with a girl who didn't mature
into prostitution wtih a crack-******* 'abbit...

chances of me ******* low i.q. is like
zilch then? i imagine the tirades...
the knife-insinuations...
**** a barrister: **** for life...
settle down: solve **** concerninng:
immmovaable objects:
the sun still has "egotism" to rise
and call it tomorrow...
and her ******* own too: to boot...
imagine that!

why go after the pork 'n' pie?
why pet a dog?
why pet a cat?
     i've already mentioned...
sometimes lamb: just stinks...
lamb kidneys?
STINK... SCHTINK!
but you also can't keep pigs
in an environemnt where you also use
camels instead of horses... no?
no one is talking about this...
because... it's probably too obvious to have
to stress this ******* argument....

came the Ottomans... the Mongols...
the Soviets for a while...
came the Nazis...
why weren't we the people who championed
each other at snooker...
why didn't we invent football...
tennis... cricket...
rugby... i don't want to blame the English
for their race...
but they have been privileged in:
intra-"whiteness" terminology...

what English soldier ever stood ground
on ****** soil?
i've heard of ****** pilots having dog fights
for the battle of Britain...
how the enigma machine was not merely
the work of Turning...
etc. etc.
gravesend: i'm here reduced to "biasing"...
yet i'm giggling at the remote prospect
of "gravity"...

i have clues to concern myself over...
ownership...
          a hierarchy of a cascade...
time follows time...
this solo project of "individuality"
was never going to... "work"...

pending...

   connlach dearg...

    but the welsh still speak welsh... no?
i guess that Carlsbeg moment of:
probably the best'ly integrated people in
the world... the Welsh are...
they still exfoliate in having a punching bag
of their tow-tongue...
unlike that most, supposed... oppressed people
of the... anglophonic world affair...
the Reesh that speak no ditto of Gaelic...

who are, you, you people?!

to think that life is "here"... "there" to be... ahem...
"enjoyed"... well... no wonder
that the Iberians are full of this shyte...
not ****: shyte...
       life's a given... we're talking about navigating
through a minefield of would be
walking abortions if we check the selective process
these days...
far from it: i'm not going to enjoy myself...
some spinach has passed its best-before-date...
i'll salvage it... cook up some quick spinach +
chick pea curry in a hurry...
once the spinach is cooked: it'll last longer...
some cumin powder, some coriander (powder)...
turmeric... since it does pretty much the same
thing that: enter search... ingredient that
turns rice, yella... oh... it didn't even come up...
search engine my own brain: saffron...
achar masala, just a pinch...
bay leaves, all-spice... cloves, on or two...
cardamom powder... black pepper... salt...
paprika... Kashmiri chilly powder...
     blah blah blah...
come to think of it... i have three real passions in:
this, given, life...
cycling... esp. at night... mid-week...
when the streets are... truly empty...
my god... it's like flying...
cooking... esp. the Indian cuisine...
spices like... a chemistry set...
the buzz you get from cooking up a storm...
nothing compares to it...
even if you're using something as bland
as spinach... one spice goes 'ere...
another v'er... hey presto...
some tomato juice, some coconut milk...
now all you need to finish the dish off is
some coconut milk and... the proper flour
to make your own japati hmm's...
the hmm's part is: so... yet to discover, yeast?!
it's like this basic formula that has
to stretch as far back as Assyria:
flour + water + salt...
dough-making... then exposed to heat...
of a frying pan...
what's flour? good question... i know what wheat
it... i know that paper is a variation
of timber...
are the people who discovered these
things, famous, these days?
the man who discovered beer?
even Plato said: good on him... but what, was,
his, name?!
fame, like memory... what a fickle little creature...
now fame is shovelled en masse over a load
of *******... someone invents a cure
for some algebra "X"...
it doesn't matter... some ******* some *** some
camel-toe will always be more important...
think with your ****... act like a *****...
all these suggestions...
to get the women you need to be an *******...
yeah, sure... but... i don't want to be an *******...
do i need to pursue existential validation
in the medium of: the pursuit of women...
after all... who ends up successfully pursuing
women... despicable creatures with the alias
of man...not that i care...
my fetish for German is perhaps...
no one's fetish at all...
      i'm just tired of hearing about a woman's sexuality...
she gets all the joyride while i get...
what? an urge every half a decade
when my female maine **** raises her ****
insinuating: i want *******
and i go off on a psychotic trip around London
looking for a brothel?!
i'm driven by an IMPULSE...
which is not exactly a SENSE...
i know there are the five senses...
but how many impulses are there...
and if there's to be made a schematic of differentiation
between / among them...
ought they be isolated,
don't they simply congregate when the timing
of some matter is... right / ripe?!

- and let's face it... if i were going to ******* wait...
for a date? payment: upfront...
from all these... hyper-"real" western women...
wait wait... come back...
wait... hyper-"real"... stacks against me...
a diversity "officer" might get paid 300,000 USD
for a year's worth of propaganda spewing...
but a poet, earns... ZILCH?!
i  might drink... but i have a work ethic...
i certainly don't need to accredit some
******* spelling-mistake editor like Bukowski
might have had to...

so... the game's rigged...
here's to all my flavoursome little brothers and sisters
in the universal conundrum
in some... Chinese sweat-shop / salt-mine...
******* sang jazz, ******* sang blues...
******* entertained...
perhaps picked cotton in the fields...
well thank god they didn't work in the metallurgy
industry... thank god they weren't coal-miners...
good god! they might have just been
"over-worked"!

n'ah... leave the Russians and us Polacks to sort of...
break our bones...
make work less an addiction and more a fetish...
masochism... trust the Germanic tribes to make
work an addiction... i like pain...

perhaps my northern "sentimentality"...
i, abhor, the, passions... the "supposed" passions...
of southern Europeans...
they're too influenced by Arabic thinking:
or not-thinking...
i abhor the PIGS: the Portuguese:
starboard: geese! geese! i know... a cheap joke...
the Italians... whatever mafia they're pushing...
priestly or H'Americana Incorporated
******* load of Italian'ah... ******* spaghetti swindlers...
loafers.... Greeks... let's suppose
i can stomach this ******* ethnicity...
i like basic mathematics,
i like philosophy: the basics of enjoying thinking
when no other pleasures are made available...
i abhor the Spanish...

but **** me, the next time a "******" starts singing
about...
"when it snows, my eyes grow larger"...
among the Hyperborean(s)...
**** me... let's try a mammoth-hunting man
singing about macaques monkeys
eating bags of sugar from your hand!
i tolerate you, forget about respect...

i was in Kenya, once, once upon a time...
to be honest? once's enough...
i saw the macaques, the baboon pirate...
agonised by hemorrhoids...
good... pain in the ***: pain for your ***...
serves you right for stealing...

i heard that some wheelchair bound French woman
was "stolen" from a beach in Kenya...
lucky me... i forgot to go to my hotel room...
wept when taking sight of the Indian ocean
crashing against the coast...
had a *****-nilly glass of bourbon in my onion's
worth of hand: onion's worth of mind...
i unpeeled it into some sort variation
of a dream... slept in the wide open... warm
air of the equator...

i was waiting for pirates...
not a lot of birds in Africa... plenty of humanoids...
i'm not going to do a *******
TOTO - Africa sing-along...
i don't want to go back... too hot...
i'm not an Anglo-Saxon... send me to... hmm...
Siberia... i need the cold...
i suffocate in a climate without a ******* season!
with... an equilateral reality of sunrise to sunset...
n'ah... i need! i crave!
winter!
inherently in me... the longest nights come
the wintry months! there's a time & there's a place...
send me to... oh, i'll willingly go...

KAMCHATKA! i'll **** of: immediately...
you will not hear from me again...
i'll do the whole Pontius Pilate scene...
no worry...

here... look at these words...
THE WORLD, SIMPLY, IS...
BUT... H'AMERICA... SOMEHOW...
ALWAYS HAS TO:"HAPPEN"...
resurrect a dying donkey
getting ****** by an elephant?
anglo-sphere right load of... *******...

perhaps i was simply on a hunt for ivory
for the "right" sort of white teeth...
white teeth.. mmm.... like...
stinking socks where never in existence
in Africa... perhaps socks weren't...
but stinking feet?
perhaps the two were never to be combined/....
"liberal" European Elitists (white),

oh  hello!
em...

bye, bye!

The racial question

There is a black female politician
says Portugal is not black enough her liking
I find this preposterous.
The Portuguese who settled in Africa to make
their wealth mixed freely with the local black
population, as a result, blackness seeped in
and blended with Muslim blood.
Algarve was once a Muslim province
to the extent, the Iberians have a laid back
attitude to time.
The female politician may get her to wish fulfilled
with a shrinking white population
and black people from former colonies arriving
I think the day will come in the near future
the Africanization of Portugal.

writing poetry or relearning an agony -
an old agony but somehow
anew with an askance tying up:
and balloon fiddling
           unlike fiddling with a "scratching"
of stretching leather -

i have to forget the paragraph -
               but somehow have to remember
the beginning luck of an ******* -
like it might be: the thought-riddle-luck
of a physicist and a play of juxtaposing
interludes / punctuation
i.e. via: bang (the) big hole, black...
          
        somewhere in the distance
a pillar akin to charles olson -
            and like this: there's nothing to give
but always something to borrow -
some ref. point because:
my own new or old raw -
   or a fear like a shadow that is itching
beside a body -
   or a relentless architecture
of skeleton: esp. when piled into a heap
with that fine fine rubric of:
all is love togetherness: tough knotting -
some unbelievable chasm
that's 20th century historicity...
                       that's never what is
a journalism of metaphors and...
                     the essential stay for
children in the gorgon eyes of
                                            pedagogy...

some 15 years too late to have
an accomplished sentence to a trade
that is a believability of 100 thousand
nails but only one hammer -
          perhaps a ship to boast about...
i.e. a very tiny projection
of quantity: contradicting itself through
original intent: retaining a quality
of 100 brave souls - longing for a depth
of an unsinking...

           perhaps everyone in an utopia
is myopic -
              i wouldn't dare spell: b.l.i.n.d.
although now i'll think about the acronym
like it's (somehow) necessary -
it's not a heart-transplant;
         me-ode-you: a body of borrowed
limbs and limping emotions -
   basking (in the) limelight
(of an) indignant nuance (of) dread -
              i.e. there's no OF in that
otherwise famous acronym of a heavenly
descent of english...
unlike old-saxon cocktail...
                      far far away...

some two nights ago i lay in bed
anticipating sleep
thinking the impossible thought:
althought a quiet -
            no... a quite possible suicide:
of walking into the north sea
off the shore abiding by aberdeen
and swimming across
like a hardly between pretend of
whale toward the coast
of norway...

                 somehow not missing
the phobia of swimming in the sea
because of the archaic darkness
making forced lingo from
the depth below...

             or just listening to kenneth koch
reciting...
          perhaps i too could
recite... but because of my silence...
i'll take to nibble at braille...
or contest that...
           if morse could be written as braille -
who has such tender finger-tips
to read braille like a blind octopus
couldn't possibly play a finger-tip
numbing sacrifice to the guitar -

thus this notable comparison...
      see and hear

        ⠎ ⠑ ⠑      ⠁⠝ ⠙       ⠓ ⠑ ⠁⠗
   · · ·  · ·         · −  − ·  − · ·       · · · ·  · −  ·   · − · 

     from this the northern barbaric
(extended)... some greek...
                             θέα
                                          κουφός

such is the forever impossible...
the greeks still speak greek...
                 the hebrews still speak a 'brew...
the romans are the already
available letters -
   as i find... there's an italian
that's a negation of latin...
                          it's like for the remains
to ingest the crucifix...
there had to be a negation
         of latin: beside the cravate / apart
of strain...
    
                       it's that somehow...
beside the chiseled rocks and remains...
italian is a reinvention
of latin...
                    but the greeks speak
with a sort of insinuation you could
ascribe to the softness of the iberians...
i conflate the two...
                  so much for so little of
this.