BRIAN, YOU ARE STILL A LITTLE SHY BOY, BUDDY




YOU SEE MY DAD CLOSED THE DOOR SAYING

DON’T WORRY ABOUT THE TEASING, BE LIKE ME AND MUMMY

AND WENT BACK IN AND I FOLLOWED DAD AND HE SAID

ARE YOU GETTING TEASED, BRIAN , AND I SAID, I AM TEASING YOU

CAUSE DAD, YOUR NOT LIKE US, YOUR NOT LIKE US, YA NOT LIKE US

I AM A YOUNG DUDE, AND YOU ARE A GRUMPY OLD ****

AND DAD SAID GO TO YOUR ROOM, AND I SAID NEH, I AM STILL COOL, BUDDY

DAD SAID, COOL, WHY DO YA WANT TO BE COOL FOR, BE LIKE ME AND MUMMY

OR A SHY YOUNG DUDE, AND I SAID, YOU ARE FUCKEN SHY, DAD

AND DAD GOT UP AND SAID, GO TO YOUR BLINKEN ROOM YA LITTLE SHY BOY

AND IF WE HAD LOCKS, I WILL LOCK YOU IN, I SAID WHEN YOU DIE

YOU ARE LEARNING ABOUT HOW KIDS OF TODAY ACT

DAD SAID SHUT UP, YOUR STILL A LITTLE SHY BOY

AND RAN TO HIS SEAT, AND I FOLLOWED HIM SAYING, I AM STILL NOT LEAVING YOU ALONE DAD

AND DAD SAID, GO TO YOUR ROOM YA FOOL, YA FOOL

I SAID, HIT ME HERE IN THE FACE DADDY, AND HE SAID OK AND HIT ME SQUARE IN THE FACE

AND TRIED TO RUN TO HIS SEAT, AND I FOLLOWED HIM TO HIS SEAT

SAYING, I WANT TO BE COOL, AND HE SAID COOL WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE COOL FOR

GO AWAY FOOL, DAD, SAID, AND I STUCK MY FINGER UP AT DAD, AND HE SAID

DON;T GIVE ME THOSE RITCHARD HAND SIGNALS YA FOOL YOU FLAMING FOOL

AND I SHOWED DAD MY FINGER 199 TIMES, MY BROTHER DEFENDED DAD LIKE A MANS KID WOULD

AND I STARTED A BG ARGUMENT WITH DAD SAYING, I WAS TOO COOL FOR THIS FAMILY

HE SAID, GO AWAY YA FOOL, GO AWAY FOOL, GO FOR A WALK, YA NEED TO LET OFF STEAM

I SAID, NEH, I  WANT TO HAVE MY SAY, DAD YOU NEED TO LIGHTEN UP

DAD SAID, GO TO YOUR ROOM, FOOL, GO TO YOUR ROOM, YA FOOL

AND I SAID, ******* AWAY FROM US YOUNG DUDES, BUDDY, YOU ARE AN OLD FUCKEN KODGER

DAD SAID, GO AWAY YA FOOL, AND WENT INTO THE KITCHEN TO WIPE UP

AND I REMEMBER FOLLOWING HIM, SAYING, LISTEN TO ME, DAD I AM NOT YOUR FAVOURITE SON AM IT

HE SAID, NO, NOT IF YOU CARRY ON LIKE THIS YOUR NOT, YOUR A LITTLE SHY BOY, BUDDY

I SAID, DAD I WANT TO STAB YOU IN THE BACK, DAD SAID WHERE’S THE KNIFE

THE BIG THING WAS, WHERE’S THE KNIFE, I DIDN’T WANT TO **** DAD, HE’S FAMILY

I WAS REALLY TEASING LIKE THE COOL YOUNG DUDES DID IN THE 1980s

WHEN DAD FINISHED THAT HE RAN STRAIGHT TO HIS CHAIR

AND I FOLLOWED HIM, SAYING, YOU ARE A STUPID FATHER

HE SAID, GO AWAY FOOL, GO AWAY FOOL, LEAVE ME ALONE BRIAN, I’M A FAMILY MAN

I SAID, I HAVE COOL MATES, I DON’T NEED YOU TO SAY, YOUR LIKE ME AND MUMMY BRIAN EVERY DAY

THEN I SAID I AM COOL, DAD, DAD SAID, COOL, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE COOL FOR

WELL, NOW DAD IS DEAD, I GOT MY CHANCE TO TELL DAD THAT I WAS BEING A KID

AND NOW IT’S DAD’S TURN TO BE ONE OF DAVID AND LISA CAMPBELL’S TWINS

PAIRED WITH ROBIN WILLIAMS, THEY ARE JUST LIKE EACH OTHER

DAD, IS SOON TO BE JIMMY BARNES’S  GRANDCHILD WITH ROBIN WILLIAMS

TO JOIN OLGA CHICK

HAPPY NEXT LIFE, DAD

AND LET US DUDES BURN YA OLDIE OFF WITH METHANE, TO IMPROVE YOUR NEXT EARTH BODY

BOBYE BLINKEN DAD, YA FOOL, I AM ONLY JOKING, HA HA HA HA

bending time, sleight of hand.
give to me, give to me
one more hour.
pulling quarters from the thin air,
give to me one more day.
farce of having time to say
the angry things.
the loving things.
holding you in a cup, drink you up and
i am small.
holding onto you in my pocket,
take you out and blow off the dust.
before you go, before you go.
i selfishly need to finish us.
before you leave, before you journey
i am not done with loving you.
put you on spoon and dip you in the sugar bowl,
sweet on my tongue, i can love you sweet.
i haven't finished being mad,
i haven't finished needing you. just a child am i again,
im not the selfish one,
who's leaving who here, after all?
before you leave, before you leave,
ill put you on music note, treble clef
and pull you out with a whistle.
im not done, i am not done.
loving you in my skewed way.
so goodbye is it, after all?
the rabbits pulled from the deep black hat.
and i put you in a  boat to sea
winken blinken and nod  care for your soul.
ill put you on a chinese lantern
and let you go. ill let you go.

sahn 5/18/2014

where was is that i heard, 20% of people do 50% of the work,
or perhaps i overheard the ratio incorrectly,
20% of people do 80% of the work...
i left the house at 5:30am...
i don't think i slept a wink...
    got to Liverpool St. at around 6:40am... no trains
to Wembley Park... i.e. no Metropolitan Line from
Aldgate...
the Hammersmith & City line opened at around
ten past seven a.m.
  jumped on it to Baker St.
   then a five minute wait for the metropolitan
line... two stops to Wembley Park...
picked up a coffee at McDonald's, black... five
or six sugars... those sachets are never teaspoon
equivalent...
perhaps late by half an hour... but not really...
a massive queue of stewards at the signing-in...
people coming later than me...
waiting for about 3 hours outside the stadium
until we were finally let it and allocated our
positions...
hardly any briefing...
the national anthem was tested about five times...
as was the pyrotechnics...
sweep of the entire north stand of level 5...
checking for all the seats being in a working
condition... then allocated our spots...
no chance in hell was i going to stick to the plan...
someone approached me gagging for a smoke,
no can do, cameras everywhere,
took my hand, i told him: i'm a smoker too...
i haven't been smoking since 8am...
just imagine what that cigarette will feel like
when you get out... stay strong...
a co-worker was babbling to some customers
about the events at the Euros
when the stadium was stormed by hooligans
without tickets... he remembered that
he was instructed not to speak about it...
for an hour or two i was reassuring him
that he wouldn't get into trouble,
paranoid... the people he was talking to
had their telephone out...
he was on the frontline of the stampede:
he thought he was going to be dox(x)ed...
but you're a wearing a face-mask, aren't you?
and your voice never sounds the same in real
life as it might sound on a recording, no?
don't worry...
telling people in the glass room on level 5
to finish their drinks... kick off in 10 minutes...
two hands extended: ten digits showing...
thank you mate... blah blah...
at half time: 5 minutes to kick off...
one hand extended five digits showing... more thank you mate...
the incident with a first aid...
a man and his two daughter...
i should have asked for his ticket, just in case...
i will next time...
one first aid room closed,
we walked to a second first aid room: also closed...
i left the three in the company of fellow stewards:
keep them entertained, talking...
only a bruised knee, or a cut knee...
his, or one of his girls? i couldn't remember,
talked to a supervisor, both the first aid rooms
are closed, where are the first aiders?
message to control room, hawk-eye on...
they should be at base 503... went to base 503...
they're not there... they apparently were located
in one of the first aid rooms: now open...
escorted them to the man and his two daughters...
but obviously half time was over
and they ****** off to sit down...
clearly the incident wasn't so important...
but i persisted...
walked up and down each base up the stairs
scanning the crowd, hoping to find them...
almost reaching an epileptic fit from scanning
so many faces... until another supervisor approached
me: what are you doing?
looking for them... they might have gone to a lower level,
should i stop? yeah...
then this guy who wanted to go from level 5 to
level 1... but his ticket read: you're supposed
to be on level 5... he tried to wriggle his way out...
but my younger brother is there,
and i have food for him...
the supervisor asked: but your under 18 companion
is in company of an 18+ minder?
if everyone wanted to go down to the lower
levels for a better view...
it wouldn't be fair...
then not-minded children running across the aisles
at the top of the stadium...
one fellow steward asked me to intervene,
a mother herself... happened three or four times...
first two times a supervisor just passively walked around
the "incident" without music influence...
by the time i got there one of the kids was
falling on the chairs... thankfully i scribbled to them
a sentence with a hand facing down:
moving my index and middle fingers slowly
with an imitation of: walk... don't run...
go back to your parents... lucky mummy also picked
up the scent of danger...
problem sorted...
then this solitary kid high up in the stands...
what team do you support, you're enjoying yourself,
you're up here alone? where are you parents /
who are you with? grandfather, father and sister?
you're up here to get a better view...
all the while kneeling beside him...
oh, cool, just remember to return to them
before the end of the match...
at the end of the match he was still up there all alone...
sort of mumbling to himself...
or just excited as any child might be
when sitting on the highest reaches of the Wembley
crater...
i escorted him to his grandfather before the final
whistle... problem sorted in advance:
it might have been a missing child... when the crowds
started to disperse...
then this escalation steward came to one of the bases:
one steward at the door... the other
at the bottom of the rows... at the end of the stairs
for level 5...
so people don't unhinge themselves and sway into
the barrier and possibly fall off...
he noticed one missing to the left...
i walked down to the one where i was at
and looked to the right...
how many missing in your position...
thumb, index, ******* posited with question,
three missing? he affirmed...
and i was off... a fellow steward: no supervisor,
imploring one of each of the three pairs to break up,
one to stand at the door the other to go down
to the bottom of the stairs...
they complied...
the women's Chelsea team beat the women's Arsenal
team 3 nil... Chelsea had only managed to win the FA
cup twice prior to today's win...
the Arsenal team have won it 15 times...
today's stadium capacity reached circa 42K...
not bad for a female football match... i reckon...
the clientele... a mixed bunch...
you'd think there would be more women...
n'ah... hmm... most certainly more children than per usual
football match... children are most certainly gender neutral...
well... gender "neutral"... whatever the hell that means...
it probably means:
i was a boy once too... i'd play video games,
but i'd also play with dolls with girls...
we'd congregate with girls playing hide-and-seek...
tic-tac-toe... no ******* way...
no boys there... or jumping over skipping ropes...
no chance... climbing trees? sure...
such a different clientele to what's expected
to a Fulham match...
£4.80 for a steak & ale pie... burgers at £6.00 not worth
the money... you can never get a bad pie
at a football match...

in summary... i think i was built for this role...
over £10 an hour... but it's not about the money...
i don't want money...
i have an apprehension of money...
firstly: i don't really know what i'd spend it on
if i had too much of it, if there was enough for rent,
for food... i just don't like spending money...
i like drinking whiskey...
i prefer cooking my own food than imploring
others to cook it for me...
i feel silly in a restaurant... almost like a mannequin
with a grimace, or for that matter movement...
all those restaurants in central London...
glass panes... oh look... the mannequins are eating...
window shopping escalated...
they're also advertising clothing!
cooking for yourself though... it reminds me of...
those days in the organic chemistry laboratories
of the Joseph Black building up in Edinburgh...
air filled with whiffs of sulphur and ethanol...
and machinery...

i fear money, as much as i fear god...
what's the point of loving either Mammon or Ha-Shem
when you become ignorant to both,
who might, suddenly... on a whim... change their mind
regarding your fate?
plus... extra money: while you might not be spending it...
someone might latch up onto you and leech your wallet...
why would anyone ever want that?
that's why i don't want to earn beyond
my capacity...
let savings be like a trickle...
in that fabled torture of Loki... Loki's punishment...
with the serpent's venom dripping onto his head
drop by drop... "riddling" a hole in his skull...
but this life is all a credit... best work around the medium
of debit...
i don't remember the last time i worked with
credit... spend less than you earn...
simple, no? never "fake it, until you make it"...
if it has to be summarised as... well... stretching it:
it's not an ascetic reason...
it's a Spartan reason: there are no religious reasons...
there are only... self-imposed reasons...
come to think of it...
once the ascetic reasons are established...
aesthetic reasons come on their own...
it's beautifully! ha ha! simple!

it becomes... luckily one of the supervisors dropped
me off at Newbury Park with two fellow
co-workers... he was heading up to Basildon...
put the heating up... one co-worker was nodding in
approval to the met sleep...
me? i took a power-nap after having some food back home,
from 8:30pm to 9:30pm, before writing my father's invoice,
making him lunch & taking out the garbage...

but he kept on switching the music
and texting while driving...
what?! what is this, short-attention span when it comes to music?

alll i herd was rap, some drum & bass,
something equivalent to pendulum,
before the song was half-way through,
he would change it... start working early in life...
low attention span, how many thought were pulverising
his head when he took it upon himself
a self-assertiveness of an "alpha-male":
sure... Dan is about 2 inches taller than me,
fatty boy, walks about like a falling oak...
has 4 children... yet.. his mind was distracted
by my silence...

i could have said: listen, mate, i'm knackered...
it might be probable that i only dreamt up
sleeping these three hours...
treating women like second class citizenry:
but.... THE WOMEN LOVE IT...
the grumpy male...
they love it!
i'm not your uber driver etc.
well, i'm not having any of it... i just focused
on his restless mind...
if i were driving the car...
you'd be listening to

die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft...
through & through...

die aeisenfaust am lanzenschft
die zügel in der linken,
so sprengt des reiches ritterschaft
und ihre schwerter blinken

hey-ah hey-ah.... hey-ah! hey-ah!
und ihre schwerter blinken.
hey-ah hey-ah.... hey-ah! hey-ah!
und ihre schwerter blinken.

das balkenkreuz, das schwarze fleigt
voran auf weißen grunde,
verloren zwar doch umbesiegt
so klingt uns seine kunde,

hey-ah hey-ah.... hey-ah! hey-ah!
so klingt uns seine kunde.
hey-ah hey-ah.... hey-ah! hey-ah!
so klingt uns seine kunde.

at worst, you'd have me playing Prokofiev's
schlacht auf das eis...
(battle on the ice, some Nevsky)...
if only the Polacks wrote a musical score
for... schlacht bei Tannenberg...
sadly... only  painting...

that's history... what a scatter brain...
we rode all the way from Wembley toward
the straight A12 towards Essex Basildon...
i don't think i heard a whole song in full...
playing the role of "alpha male" leaves most men
scatter brained...
he already has the physical superiority,
but his mind is a mollusk...

my fellow coworker tried to establish something,
i already disclosed to her that i studied
chemistry, that i write... ahem... poo-etry...
my name, my ******* name...
i break it down to her:

M'ah-T'eh...   ΩŠ...
the it's written as mateusz...
but the slavic S+Z is equivalent to the English S+H...
which is equivalent to hiding either Z or H
within the S as a caron: Š...
ma-te (again, hide the H's of the vowel catcher
tetragrammaton)...
the upsilon is prolonged, therefore becomes
a doubled omicron, like in pOOl...
ergo... an omega... omega being sort of a "double-u"...
W... V... a double V... when is softened from vent...
wet is the softened version of vet...

it's not a double "U"... is it... that's an omega...
it's a double V... that W = 2xV, no?

come to think of it, telepathy?
if you read enough Julian Jaynes, about the phenomenon
of the bicemeral mind...
prior to to the event: as if the 8 winds spoke one
word simultaneously, was someone calling me?
i heard the word: MA-TE-USZ...
as clearly as i felt the cold,
heard the rain, saw the sun...

if my name could be elevated....
from merely: geschenk von gott
to: das licht von zorn...
   (gift of god that becomes:
the light of wrath)...
i'd hear about it, prior to seeing anything...
that the day begun with a hallucination,
and ended with someone asking
me for the syllables corrected...

clearly this is a job for me, i'm very fond on
ensuring crowds are safe, secured, serviced...
i like this simple mantra:
keep them contained within a crowd status....
keep them herderded...
i might wish for sheep, people is the closest i'll ever come
to being someone herding sheep not uprooted
from his roots in Iran, being turned into
an Just-Eat driver on a ******* moped...

i'm loving these little snippets of authority,
it can't allow me to turn into a megalomaniac,
i feel... a genuine concern for people,
esp. children....
i don't need my own... the children of strangers are
plenty...

but it's so bewildering, a guy pretends to be this alpha...
rude to females... mein gott: how women love
being slapped metaphorically!
mein hertz, ist nicht im des recht platz...
singen freude! singen frei!
lassen alles einfach: singen!

i lapse into etymological English, i.e. German
whenever something is... odd... curious...
a hmm proposition...

plenty... jetzt kommt, der große: schlaf(en).

what i've learnt about bands... say, they're headlining over
two days at one venue...
on the first day they play all their major hits...
it feels a lot like a struggle: i struggled to not yawn
even though i shouldn't have...
sure... they played all their best songs...
                  Scar Tissue, Under the Bridge...
among others... but the whole flow of the set-list felt
disjointed...
           the crowd felt too fresh...
                 and sure: on the first day the venue was sold out...
if i wasn't working i don't think i could appreciate
a back-to-back spectacle by the same band:
no... i wouldn't be stupid enough to buy tickets
for two consecutive days...
     isn't it enough that i ****** up my knees, feet and back
earned over £400... spent £35 on a t-shirt
and bought myself lunch: the best steak & potato
pasties in town?
no... i wouldn't have bought tickets for yesterday
and today... i would have thought like most people might
think: they're going to play the same songs...
nope... bands with a big enough oeuvre never play
the same songs... if they're playing two or three days
at the same venue...
   today's set list was much better...
because they only played Californication, Give it Up...
and By the Way...
    that's the only three songs they split between
the two days...
       sure... yesterday i was writing about being spotted
for what i do...
these two women started hovering around
where i was placed... i spotted them once...
disappeared... they reappeared...
one was my sort challenge... a big girl...
a big girl akin to ALISON TYLER big girl...
sort of the same height as me... all the necessary freckles
of a brunette and not a ginger...
lovely curves: big... not fat... just big...
she kept eyeing me up... i don't know whether
the crowd gave her the "*****-and-giggles" or whatever:
but her friend started to try and comfort her...
scratching her back... then caressing it...
her bra strap became exposed... then her friend tried
to hide it... and she kept looking at me with
these doe eyes...
     i couldn't allow them through the fire exit...
since only personnel can walk through freely...
so i told them: there's this disability bay up there
and the seats are far apart...
you might not see the band: but you'll hear them...
that's the best i can do...
       they left and i never saw them again...
maybe i'm just imagining things...
    who the hell buys tickets to a concert and suddenly
conjures up "panic attacks"?
i'm not saying: fakes panic attacks...
  but conjures them out of thin-air!
            maybe i have a story in my head that sort
of deviates from "reality"...
            hell... i'd buy tickets to a ******* opera instead...
that's usually a tame musical experience...
but still a musical experience...

just to the end i figured something about crowd
control, it's just a minor detail,
i sort of knew why things were done as they were
to be done: egress...
how to get over 30K spectators from the pitch...
two routes...
one route? a bottle-neck... up the stairs...
onto the concourse...
second route? a whale's ****** sized exit through
a tunnel...
what do you do? you block off the whale's ******
sized exit through a tunnel for about five minutes...
by placing traffic-cone people in high-viz. jackets
by this exit... today i felt like i was the only
controller on an airport tarmac...
moving my hands: indicating direction for
the initial crowd leaving to take...
           better orientating airplane...
   up the stairs... to the right... to the right (my right,
their left)... that's the whole trick...
establish a flow up the stairs... so that enough people
take the bait... which creates an initial split in the crowd...
since the bottleneck route can only take so
much traffic... and while people congest around
the high-viz. traffic cone people... right...
one flow established... now pull apart
the cordon of high-viz. traffic cone people
apart and let the mass of traffic through the tunnel...
makes sense...
                   i know there's no need to think about
such simple things...
but what news do you usually hear from Mecca
at the time of the Hajj?!
    what's the news? about 70 dead when the crowd
stampedes and crushes everyone...
i hate working with people with large eyes:
fear has large eyes...
    and panic is worse than ******...
               you just want people to go to an event
and leave safely... some drunk wizards and philosophers
will always be found... but that sort of stressing of
"individualism" is about as useful as
a gherkin on a pile of cucumbers...
                     i hate losing my temper with drunk people,
thank god it's a concert so you do have to shout
because of the ear-plugs...
and stand there like some hyper-inflation of "******"
gesticulating via "on MIGI": in MIG...
                  a make-shift deaf-person talk with the body...
it's not an acronym, it's a word borrowed from
******: in flashes... finger language...
hand arm body language...  
          wink wink... smile... neck turning insinuations...
i don't know if i'd make a better postman...
i think i'd make a great housekeeper when
people go on holidays and need a caretaker...
perhaps a great dog-walker...
certainly not a dentist or a heart-surgeon...
that path is lost... i'm not going to pick that sort of life
up... i'm still thinking about picking up
the role of a chemistry teacher: although i'd prefer
to be an English teacher...
  
   what a gruesome weekend... what a rewarding
weekend... i only woke up at home and
only spent 12am through to 2am scribbling and drinking...
as much as i love the idea of home:
give me a horse! and a good stretch of an Ukrainian steppe!
i've earned enough to 0 my debt and spend
the rest on prostitutes... which i will after the 1st of July...
because... i have nothing to spend it on...
plus... if the economy is going to work...
the women need the money... i just buy whiskey...
band t-shirts after seeing them in concert...
some food from time to time...
but... better the women have the money to spend...
but i'm not just going to give money to women
via marriage... via marriage that means
having a limited amount of ***
and hoping for people to attend your funeral... ah ha ha...
better i give the money to prostitutes
and have *** in return... makes sense...

i was actually dreaming about this manic weekend
finishing...
i was dreaming something akin to...
which i did fulfill...
the last day...
   singing die eisenfaust am lanzenshaft
(Teutonic Crusader song)
while walking home from Romford St. to where
i live, while drinking some cider,
smoking a cigarette or two...
admiring the night, the stars... the lateness of the sunset
of high June... wishing to find my cat sleeping
in my bed... waiting for tomorrow
in the form of waking up at 12pm,
cleaning the house... waited for the boiler technician
to come at 2pm and get paid £80 for 15 minutes'
worth of work...

then cycling for an hour... then making lunch
for dearest father with the leftover steak meat...
then making dinner power: roast chicken...
some vegetables... i'm always in my "element"
when cooking...
cleaning the house: that too...
        i have at least one night until a shift
at Wembley for an Ed the Ginger gig so i can
completely drink myself under the table:
the Matrix setting: there's no table...
as there's no "under": therefore...

                      i work hard i drink hard...
crowd control: eh... work for retards...
but these army references keep trickling down
from the top to the "stormtroopers"...
i don't know why the Somalis and other copper-neccks
like working with me...
once a make-shift supervisor...
i'm still their supervisor...
i think they just like saying the word: Matthew...

i was away from working for enough
to know... that work and youth don't mix...
und ihre schwerter blinken...
    
if i had more time: i rather walk into
the:
verdunkelt-wald... mondbeschienensilberlocken...
than a lampezündetehaus...
das knarren von kniefern
im alles das ist nacht!
                kuss mich morgen:
zu wahrheit die gähnen-mittag-von-die-sonne:
sonne das nie blinken oder schlafen...
nacht ewig: ein nacht alles uns!

i disintegrate into German from English
since... English is sort of German with some
*******-workings of pseudo-French workings...

oh but the conversations you hear...
the sort of fears blacks have concerning American culture...
the anti-racism culture of England...
too much was said in order for me to write
something equivalent to a haiku:
we, just, get, along...
   sure... i get it... there are outliers...
anti-racist white girls and their fetishes...
i have a fetishes for mushrooms and cats...
and caterpillars... i have a fetish for Turkish girls...
i have a fetish for Teutonic crusader songs...
i have a fetish for the German tongue...

but the young copper-necks like working
with me... i like them... i like their hue...
they're lazily employed at first but they soon build up
momentum...
when that happens i just start singing Teutonic songs
in my head.... i.e. we're here to get paid...
we're not in an army...
i'm planning to ******* to the land of Nod
from 2am through to 12pm... with my cat sleeping
with me... sure... i wish it was a woman...
let's not wish on too much...
first i need to scratch my scar tissue...
peel off some scab... eat it like a dog...
Jemminah really ****** me off...
not that she was an easy catch...
   but because she was a ginger and an impossible catch...

but that's the beauty of life:
you're never going to get what you "think" you're
supposed to expect... that never happens...
no one is ever promised to be born with
a crown of thorns of the crown of England...
are they?!
the idea is to diffuse the "situation"...
unlike in Republics... the old ways remain
the same... keep the majority a majority...
and then keep a scrutiny on the minority
that want to exist outside of the realm of the minority:
faking majority rule...
but?! first you have to sort out the fake minority
rule of PRIDE politico *******...
no one likes a minority detailing rules
for a majority to follow...
what one likes? individuals to detail rules
for a majority...
individuals > minorities when it comes
to the dynamic of ruling over the majority...

   classical western democracy cannot ever champion
the minority... a sub-class that undermines
the class of people that require to be guided...
this sub-class of individualism can never
undermine the individual...
but individualism is not somehow spawned:
orientated: dictated: by precursors...
it "arrives" when it must "arrive"...
                      
           give my heart and my feet a rest....
spawn some new idiots...
some spares of asp, wasp...
this night... drinking cider under this one specific
weeping willow...
dreadlock i.e. Jamaica is nowhere to be found...

Putin on the blitz

           Nato does Paris last tango

Biden caught Blinken

Gado Gado

At this moment in time,

in unison I mean,

Anthony Blinken closed

his eyelids at the American

G 20/20 vision for the world

summit on the Island of Bali

where Gado Gado was on

the menu for those who were

adventurous enough to forego

the McDonalds Hamburger with

chips and tomato ketchup.

Gib'raltar Eagle, has just

been branded, the hull

has been Houthi’d, the

cargo’s been stranded.


   Biden and Sunak

  have just been told,

that Yemen's resistance

   will never go cold.


Send a cruise via Suez

a fuse nought to loose.

by FED-EX to Sana’a

with a sign ripe banana




  Anthony’s Blinken,  

does that when he’s

thinkin’ all he can see

is US ships all sinkin’.


Hamas )) to Isreal

   Hal-Al with a tail

Hezbollah's comin’

and they never fail.

In the year 20/20 he

      got his frost pair of

   glasses, lazy eyes the

      optician diagnosed.


  Diffused vision, tinnitus,

  with speech impairment

    left him with only one

   communicating option.


  One day Boy Focal met

    Anthony Blinken and

  Morse'd with his eyelids

     “ Gaza Sera Libre "

American Magpies



       Eckhart Tolle’s Power Of Now

        has been re titled, it is called

          100 Daze Of Hell In Gaza.

       Byron Katie asked 4 questions.

                   1. Is it true?

  2. Can you absolutely know it’s true?

3. How do you react when it happens,

       when you believe that thought?

4. Who would you be without the thought?

     Benjamin Netanyahu said that it

           never crosses his mind.

      Joe Biden forgot the question

      And Anthony Blinken has REM.