Fahnd 'im lyin' int middle o' t'street
bruised an' battered from t'tramplin' feet.
Ee'd crawled aht from some gutter
an' them cries tha' ee did utter
almost like a knife through butter
cut mi quick an' deep.

'Is broken wings ah tried to treat
gently praying that ee'd be reyt.
But when 'is cry became a stutter
t'world rolled dahn its shutters
an' rahnd mi someone muttered:
" 'is prospects ain't 'alf bleak".

An' that poor lost little 'eap
ah cradled but coun't weep,
til mi arms discerned a flutter.
So in mi chest ee'll see the summer
from that 'ollow haven like no other
where ee can safely sleep.

/you really don't come between me and baltic "sushi", i.e. raw herring fillets in a white vinegar cream cause... that's the "*****" that get's slaughtered by a, gnash... gnash? itchy teeth.

/                    and... what is wrong with watching
****?
   the movie, without a drama aspect...
ever walk into a cornershop
and buy a magazine,
clearly you never went to a catholic
school - and got away
with a pornostar t-shirt aht read
the slogad: *******
IS NOT A CRIME...
   oh... becauae only women can
make profit, exposing their genitals?!
this is going to be fun,
while i tell that to a choir of templars...
so... still-life, bikini **** is bad?
i thought that ***** movies were bad?
you can't have one, without the other:
is this... the second tier of what americans
abolishing alcohol?
      i drink, i drink to excess
in the same vein as modern americans
celebrate coffee...  
    so i am wrong in my excesses of
applying alcohol as a counter to insomnia...
while you celebrate excesses of coffee?!
let me teach you a word or two
of slavic:
     pies, na sznurze: wiszącym -
translation?
   (a) dog,
                   on a hanging: noose...
somehow a cruelty against animals
doesn't translate into
a cruelties of man, anti man...
but... this...
             cold turkey of *****?
was movie the first and only medium?
what about the imagination
surrounding the curves,
the apples and pears to insist:
we can't really do it with classical
nudist art...
    movies?!
               you joking...
that element of imagination?!
            if you've ever allowed yourself
to buy classical ****,
with still life images of, flesh...
      you were never in need of
moving parts...
          the still image was always
the potency, of a potential...
        and never ever to be discovered,
yet kept,
  within the confines of: the per se -
there was always that imaginative
en spiritum composite allowance...
movies... only become first,
in interpretation, then the tertiary
wave enveloped the lost secondary
50s to 70s lost the battle...
and patent primary...
               and if i were a picasso?
   i wouldn't have allowances to paint
just graces...
          of course i won't!
do what a louis XIV might take for
granted...
      but then...
                  but "then" there's no then:
and i reach a pontius pilate
transcendece of -
                   and let so be so,
       so "i" might at least find an i...
with or without "being",
with or without "thought":
the ought of past, future, and a "now"...
         and...
            schneiden ein kreuz in mein
rücken: und nennem mich
                            aufrecht ähnlich
ein todlächeln -
                   oder: gebogen -
                 mögen - die eitel aspekt
aus leben:
               ein bucklige, mit
                                     aufrechtkinder!
one suggestion:
you **** away calling them *****
addicts watching enstilled images
of naked bodies,
like the might not be spotted
                       going to an art gallery!
still life is all that desires
to be imagined outside its
alcatraz of what becomes
                             the imaginative motion...
death desires a portrait,
a...
              a commission...
                    reign free: my imagination...
leave the bad acting to the bad actors
of both hollywood editorial staffing
and bad *****...
    we're replacing taking
a date to a gallery, and using our tongue,
to using the tertiary "tongue":
with what could have been:
a woman's heart in a man's stomach.

The name Manhattan from the word Manna-hata,
as written in the 1609 logbook of Robert Juet,
an officer on Henry Hudson's yacht Halve Maen, meaning Half Moon;
A 1610 map depicts the name as Manna-hata
twice, on the west and east sides
of the Mauritius River, later named the Hudson;
The word "Manhattan" has been translated
as "the place where we get bows" or
"place for gathering the (wood to make) bows",
from the Munsee dialect of the Lenape language
'manaháhtaan' (where 'manah-' means "gather",
'-aht-' means "bow" and '-aan' is an abstract element used to form verb stems; according to a Munsee tradition recorded in the 19th century,
the island was named so for a grove of hickory
at the lower end that was considered
ideal for the making of bows; Alternative folk
etymologies include "island of many hills",
"the island where we all became intoxicated"
and simply "island", as well as a phrase
descriptive of the whirlpool at Hell's Gate;
clearly indicating the Manhattan Island
has for several hundred generations to this very day
been a popular gathering place for homosexuals;
     "good place to gather wood for bows" indeed

in looking back through the dark eyes
of the mother of the Hebrew minions,
I see Slim Pickins & Andy Divine in
every Western I've ever seen until the
man w/ no name & his Italian cohorts
on the Spanish plains rewrote it all in
a prophetic cast; Norman Rockwell &
Walt Whitman freaking out over the
new poetry ushered in by Ginsberg &
Patti Smith whom Hart Crane wanted
to **** from the grave,  headless ******
walking forested Harlem free of their
conventional way of dress; going native
like the homosexual Leni Lenape

Details of Henry Hudson's birth and early life
are unknown. Some sources have identified a
       Henry Hudson as having been born about
1565, but others date his birth to around 1570;
Other historians assert even less certainty;
Peter C. Mancall, for instance, states that
"Hudson was probably born in the 1560s,"
while Piers Pennington gives no date at all;
Hudson is thought to have spent many years at sea,
beginning as a cabin boy and gradually
    working his way up to ship's captain;
most assuredly homosexual, after a mutiny
aboard the ship Discovery, Hudson & several crewmen
were set adrift in a small open boat,
effectively marooning them in Hudson Bay;
Hudson & those aboard never seen again

wander abaht atter a home
as av no bairns ad Tek us in
so the living hereabahts
rush inside
early doors
afore sunset
lock doors
pull down shades,
turn mirrors to walls

do all to stop me seeing em
for if I did
I'd carry 'em off.

*** named a monkey
after us, the lemur
cos we big eyes
are aht at neet
and mek ghost noises

so bairns bang *** lids
howl like wolves
joined by tarn dogs,
to frit us away

while nannans spin abaht,
splash boiling watta
rahnd rooms with a wooden ladle .

Am one dead al not find a home.

   I'd carry 'em off.