Why do I feel compelled
To describe you as imprinted
On the bone face of my skull?
Am I in there, rattling
Around with each curt nod
When you offer me your time?
Hurled against the stretches of the mind
The head's own incubator
Some Palaeolithic cave
Where the only inexperienced scrawlings
Are your portrait
In this cave I have invented film
Starting with a rickety old Zoetrope
Of the first smile; lips bracketing
The teeth, enabling
The tongue, to churn out
The voice, your nuclear voice
Hanging my Nagaskian heart by a hair
I haven't needed irradiation
Like the hand-canter of a harp player
I have been plucking my scalp
Hardly Lilith but perhaps
Deforesting Eden
Will tempt you from Eve.

language has become so primitive, so overly verb
associative - as if doing things was cool -
some cool that ended up to be - ~eloquent use of language,
the civilised formality always bogs  down to nouns -
and how many you can remember - usually depicted
by teatime quizzing - you dare to remember as many nouns
as possible, because by remembering enough nouns you're
limiting  the chances of unfashionable verbs
taking hold of you (celibacy being one of them) -
it's the immobility that holds sway -
you're tongue tied more than Kentucky's
knuckle express against Virginia - also a woman's name -
see a therapist, a *******, your chances of feeling jealousy
feeds the atypical woman's libido - that's how i see feeling
jealousy, feed the ultimate resentment of woman,
see a *******, i swear to god,
you won't feel resentment because of a woman
in a dating culture, ever more...
oh forget the perfect photograph snappers -
they're solid material waiting to fail...
i mean, see a *******, learn to love
that way, learn to not be jealous -
once you treat her as a girlfriend
you won't treat your girlfriends like ******...
ha... oddly enough: you'll let them
walk away, into the great unknown,
and, subsequently, you'll feel less angry
after having masturbated and having said:
well, wanking myself feels better than ******* her;
if you're not a Jew, you'd agree,
you have two choices,
the sleeve of skin pulled up during
******* with a woman, and the sleeve
pulled down to exhale all mental irritation
you can't share with a woman.
yep, i'm variation prone to excuse
the passing down of knowledge with " "
brackets, and simply saying:
             well, sorta, approximately so,
e.g. " ~eloquent, and English is fertile
ground to say: Burgundy-red, flirting
with lost Saxon - hence hyphen -,
              and the approx. kindred tilde:
which is classified with ensuring ditto
is translated into )                and (     -
i.e. bracket, well... if such a profanity took place,
that dittoing was known as bracketing -
then the hyphen had to resort to availing
the compound usage, and, to unique words,
gave the pass of Thesaurus saying: ambiguity!
ambiguity and not past judgement being preserved.
parenthesis - parent thesis, male, a ***** donor -
then colour-red: red coloured -
                    but what orthodoxy of mathematics
would have said in terms of punctuation -
and what was't said:        never a punctuation
inquiry, should this appear ~
                                     unless prefixed to a word
to replace dittoing out, or passing on the genes,
but simply: ambiguity, language inclusive of
the knowledge of a Thesaurus -
              e.g. it doesn't matter what you ~know...
v. all that matters is ~who you know...
thus stated: well, knowledge versus many contacts,
you don't know anything, and the people you
think you know, you really don't either.
but the process is so miniature in terms of worth
that it's surprising that i'm making it...
my best guess is that people are really bored
of each other - which is why i'm making these
pedantic gestures that will have no chance of
generating improvement of using the liberated medium
that once solely belonged to priests and politicians;
it's ****** ridiculous making these points,
most of the books read by the majority of people
are written by those who can't spell,
let alone punctuate, or even theorise punctuation
to deviate from orthodoxy - so much for ghost writers;
so said, king pedant, who left the squabbles to
spectacle-donning-bow-tie-Marxist-allusion.

“I like natural holidays like equinoxes and solstices and moon phases, because they happen even if no one’s there to acknowledge it.”*

Like the curve of your cheek bracketing a smile
and the elongated hum of your first consonant.

The gait of us takes a fluid shape and the tiny,
joyful bursts of your footfall fill up the
quiet between the words we offer.

You feel like old tradition and new thought
made up to bring the rest of us forward into ourselves.

If my kind of crazy ever becomes
Your kind of heat.
Stuck-on, sweating the
Small of your back.
I just think I'd like to know. But, I'm
Okay, either way.

Anything to
Help spin your gems,
Closed eyes, yearning,
Projected romantic foolishness.
Remaining, vigilant, relevant.

Bolt me, back onto the
Bracketing. Make me make my sense.
Turn me four shades of color, your
Psychics won't name, but
Keep the floor close to my knees.

Fruity alcohol inebriates the same way.
But take your berries outta my
******* tobacco.
Smoke my harsh ones, 'till your lungs scar.
Or, tell me that I'm vague. 

If your pick of poison ever matches
My brand of cigarettes
The floor's always open, without help, anyway.
Take care, for my sake, not to
Ash on the rug.
"Okay. Either way..."

**** me, what a... "predicament"... i'm applying myself to, eh... "cultural relevance": whatever the hell that means, even if enclosed in "misnomer" bracketing... but... of late, hell, more recently than "of late"... i am applying myself to a culture, a people, that's, simply put, a dodo-project... i'm not going to mind my contemporaries, i have three structural dynamics, all three are negations, i.e., since my grandfather died i have: NO peers, NO contemporaries... NO elders... i do have a graveyard of necromancy to deal with, i.e. my own private library, of actual, physical, stinking books... minimalist man and his ******* shortcuts, 'links in the disclaimer' blah blah blah... to write this worth of *******... while surrounded by a culture that, clearly, is hell-bent on... at best: shooting itself in the foot, at worst: committing suicide... because? oh.... universal suffrage... women... the instigators of downfall... women... whatever man built... has to topple, on the whims of a woman... it's not longer: woe to man... woman! it's... woman?! run! hide! save yourself... hunt a, ******* mammoth while you're at it! what the **** happened to romance? that ******, flimsy, whatever it was that was sold to us when growing up nearing the year 2000? gone... ****! in a flash... a droplet of water in a frying pan with a puddle of hot oil... in the meantime the ol' lovely jukebox that was once youtube was hijacked, circa... whatever year prior to 2020. I'm here, sort of waiting for death, death: by that i implore: release... as i also invoke the question: why do crows fly in pairs over England, while  on the continent they flock? huginn! muninn! truly, crows congregate in flocks on the continent... clouds of them... messerschmitt clouds or black, iron, crosses: looming shadows... yet over England... happy to see one sit it out, croaking, some the sunset, bound to find a crow paired... not paired up with a hooded crow, ever see a raven mingle with a magpie?! me neither... ever see crows display ****** attraction in a way that's atypical to pigeons, i.e. the whole routine of courting & subsequent failure? no... i guess crows do their "****" at night, in the forest, donning, for ****'s sake... leather S&M suits, gimp gagging *****, etc., no? no... i'm not writing this because it's pleasant, it's funny as hell (though)... but i'm sort of part of a culture that's dying... it's a dodo-project... this might be seen, if i am allowed, the same status as a mummy can... there was a man alive at the turn of the 21st century and he wrote, this... well... i'm all for hope... slowing down on the intake of alcohol too... i switched from whiskey to cider... her presto! i find myself animated... like cider was mixed up wit amphetamines, or caffeine... i raise my emptied bottle of cider like it might be a horn awaiting / celebrating a procession of a god through an avenue of spectators... i can't possibly here to "save" a culture, that, inevitably (however that might be phrased otherwise) is not willing, is making too many "anschluss" decisions... **** it... let it rot... let Pakistani men run rampant in Rotherham...  i'm just weirdly here, while it happens... Pontius Pilate once didn't say, while washing hi hands: i'll have nothing to do with this... let the dice roll... there's nothing to upkeep, there's nothing to conserve... questions, question: all that ought to be addressed by some supposed variation of an Elder... no elders though, just Alzheimer buggers... unto the youth, strain their shoulders.. perform the Atlas pose... ****'s sake... no! i will not defend this culture, i'll fake being part of it, sure... who wouldn't... thank god i didn't invest in carving replicas of DNA into this schematic... i'm happy not having children... oh i love the children of strangers, esp. toddlers... i can "talk" to them in onomatopoeias... that's fun... i can't disagree... no... beside this... no ******* chance in hell... hell first... my engagement in this world, second... i'm out... convince someone, otherwise, to take a spin, on your current variation of a carousel... what once there was, is no longer more, or for that matter is... sure... i will die childless, but also freed from the looming responsibility of the world in which, i left only words, but not a dire imprint of physicality having mated with someone, producing offspring... oh how glad i have to be! what relief! what release! if the structure of the argument follows its logical conclusion, one less of me, or a Russian.... then the Tutsi, Twa & the Hutu weren't slaughtered by Rwandian militias? my my, almost like the Yugoslav debacle, remnants of the Ottoman Empire... after all... it's not like the macaques staged a war against the baboons... come to "think" of it... i only visited Kenya to, "make-sure"... that the macaques were as boring, as easily spotted, as easily available as... pigeons... not a lot of birds in Africa... plenty of primates... falling asleep outside while those little rascals ravaged the possibilities of existence in the trees... perhaps the croaking of crows at night during winter is, some sort of "compensation"... but, not really...

my next door neighbour "thinks" it's necessary
to start rapping in the dark,
rap, or rhyme, whatever,
what a waste of breath...

there's a passage in Plato's Theaetetus
where Socrates
arrives at something
resembling a Japanese unit of language...
a unit of syllabary...
i.e. consonant + vowel...
why oh why does Japanese
allow for the stand-off with
the five vowels and one consonant (N)...

ΣO... something about knowledge,
so what?

don't ask: i'm grooving to...
Alphaville's Big in Japan...
to be a teenager in the 1980's...
going to the cinema with a sweetheart,
going to the cinema to watch
a horror movie...
hell... what a time to be alive!
Duran Duran, A-Ha... Roxette...
the Cure, Depeche Mode...

we don't have any cultural ref. markers...
Tool? seriously, o.k.,
i can give you that one...
i'm not even going to mention
the Comic Book film adaptations...
Unbreakable... that film consolidates
all the rest of them...
the soundtrack is tantamount too,
more a bonus than anything...

ΔO? do i?
well... ***!
ΔO is more: ΔΩ:

to doo... otherwise, what's that?
DOUGH?
we're baking bread, now?
oh the dreaded return of the facemasks...
muzzles... how near are we to a gallop?
there's no silent H in Greek...
"silent", technically a surd...
no, there's no dow or dough invoked...

i've just spent an hour writing up
a writing assessment for an NVQ qualification,
i find relief in having abandoned
all that formal language...
in the first scenario i was writing
a newsletter for a local volunteer project
concerning a recent vandalism of the park...

in the second scenario i was writing an article
to reply to a nutritionist on campus who
spotted that only takeaway quality of foods /
fizzy foods were available,
so no salads etc.,
she also mentioned that the students
were not getting enough exercise...
i agreed with the hypothetical she on the grounds
of food... but i implored her,
as a nutritionist... to not meddle in affairs
of exercise, was she implying that she's a nutritionist
AND a personal trainer?
everything hypothetically staged, of course...

ugh... this dreary formal language when employed
to examinations...
does my head in... no knowledge of the three dots
as an authentic punctuation mark...
the hanging suspense.

how do the Greeks laugh? if H is the capital
ref. to eta... is eta less prolonged than epsilon?
oh i know that there are obvious similarities
between Omicron and OOmega...

do: pool, do i just pull?
omicron, omega, upsilon...
sounds almost the same,
how the meaning changes when written down...
excesses, "excesses" of the lambda...
pulverise... most certainly not pull-toward-the-averse...

come 2am... all is self-evident...
i can't possibly be an additional chapter in
this culture's self-expression...
it's the end... a culminating perspective of cul de sac....
bring me fire, bring me waves...
even those ethnic minority groups
who have established themselves
in the parameters of this languages
are... pretty much aware that...
they're not safe...
well... their status isn't...

            i might think of myself as an Anglo-Slav...
but... there are plenty that wouldn't ascribe those
words to themselves...
then again... most Polacks are staying put...
blah blah, one confusion after another...
here's to planning a ***** colony in
Botswana!
me, you... let's hire a dingy!
let's cross the Strait of Gibraltar!

we won't worry... we didn't invest in having
children... don't worry...
it's not like the culture we were leaving was
anything but fair to us...
it was willingly dying...
i stopped to bother about it,
when it stopped bothering about itself.

strange... of a people that most espouse this
whole Darwinism tirade...
all ******* theory: very little practice...
the English be ****** for their Darwinism!
seriously!
all their little explanations, their ergonomics,
their ******* sensibilities...
their cricket banalities...
yet when facing an immediate and obvious threat?!
where's the carpet? where's the dust?
the broom! the broom! quick! quick!
******* to Devonshire!
people ought to learn to be heartless...
then again... when was the last time the English
were asked to be heartless,
when was the last time they were subjugated
by a foreign entity, in a historically legal sense of
noting history?

so much for their pompous posturing within
the luxury of historically reading about the greatest
empire that could ever be envisioned...
i wasn't there for the partitioning
of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth...
i'm so sorry that i missed it...
but i'm here for "this"... and boy... do i have a hard-on
for what's to come next...
i'm just waiting for the Welsh & Scottish nationalists
to put in some more momentum!

after all... if you're going to deconstruct Warsaw...
you need to do it: brick by brick...
so that... no brick stands on another brick...
here we go... looking forward...
a future: that wonderful plateau!