Brrrr
It’s cold outside
The sky is gray
With a feeling of rain or snow
People are bundled up
In coats, hats and scarves
Brrrr
It’s cold
At home
People hide under blankets
Seeking any kind of warmth
A fireplace is welcome
For both people and animals
Brrr
It’s cold outside
Winter is on its way
The season is changing
Snow, sleet and cold rain
Get ready

Brrr
As the ice drops drop
from gutters,
as I make my way
along
on my missions.
It's so cold
sometimes;
I just don't know how
to bundle up right
how I got the chills
especially
when I don't know
what to do or where to go
when I first get the shivers
from the brrr cold.
There are all sorts or nuances
to being out in the cold
that drive me to
frustration,
drive me batty really,
like how the temperature
drops suddenly at duck and rises barely at dawn
how little drops people
in behavior
are spawned
how you just can't even yawn
and wait to see
on the road a fawn
Oh well that's
probably not scratching
the surface
in everything
apparently
but that's life
best I can do
on how to deal with the cold.

Sometimes we have a life long dream...
but not sure where to start....
and sometimes we must go to the extreme..
with a thought that's not so smart....
It started with an issue..
she knew she had to resolve..
Unaware of her options, but knew it had to be solved..
He destroyed the girl that she had been...
destroyed the world she had lived in...
She weighed the pro's and the con's..
and concluded it had to do with ponds...
So she set out on a mission..
and decided to save for her own condition.
A well deserved vacation in the " Florida Keys"..
for her and her honey , and with his money....
The months how they passed...
So slowly, then at last...
The day they left was 20 below..Brrr..cold
Soon they were driving down Old Cheney Road..
A backwoods road where the St. Johns' River flowed..
I hear the fishing there is great...
You'll get a bite with very little bait..
They reached the lake in the early morn..
and that is where her plot was born..
She poured the coffee she had made..
and laced it with some " gator aide "....
Here my love she said so sweetly..
I made this special for you my sweetie..
The cast was made, the bait was set..
No reason for her to sweat or fret...
Eyes did close and body went limp..
She started to shake and then thought..
Come on girl be strong don't be a wimp..
No one knows we're here or where we're at..
She rolled the body to the edge of the water...
heard a splash !..it was only an otter...
Within a flash, the body was trash...
there must have been 20 gators below..
ripping and flipping the body about..
She packed up and decided to go back the scenic route....

post note: I've always wanted to be my own boss, and now due to my recent loss..
The Insurance is an assurance and I don't have to wait...
I'll open a store and call it " GATOR BAIT "

I've had a few best friends, but none such as this.
I moved up north this year on a whim hoping for renewal.
And a chance at Christmas.
---
That was Summer.
---
Now, it is Novem"brrr",
and I have been in this apartment for awhile.
Myself, my roommates: Jesse Sam & Kyle.

Last night; a fight!! one i NEVER thought would happen.
a drunken brawl for over 1/2 an hour
Each one trying to gain power
over the other.
---
Afterwards, tears were shed, hands were shaken,
places were taken and a pipe was passed.
and upon waking up, each realized their ultimate mistake.
Never shall this happen again for anybody's sake.

he was a tambourine
cling-cling-cling
competing with the guitar,
strrr...uuummm...
bass,
puuu-waaa...ssh!
and drums
BO...o...Om!

In the orchestra
he was the conductor's baton
swish-swish-swish
drowned out by the oboe
BRRR...Rooo...
cello
teener-neener-teen
violin
Neee-nah­-neee...nahnahnah-nee...

When he went solo
he was a harp
bling-bling-bling-bling...
graceful, delicate
tling-ling-ring-bling...
his strings plucked
pling-pling-pling-pling
by angels

Bzzz.
Clank.
Brrr.
Clink.

Mellow lights.
Fizzy lattes.
Distant chatters.
Bell chimes.

Her lips.
The slightest curvature.  
Insuppressable joy.
What is there to worry about?

Her eyes.
Make the sun look like a street light.
A gander like that of a panther when preying.
Does her desire match mines?

Coffee house madness.

Brrr. . . it is cold and drear,
But it makes me happy to be with you (Mamma) my dear!

O poor the thrush,
That must stay outside in the cold inside the brush.

        *Marian

All the cold
no sun,only brrr
layer over layers
clothes is not the only thing the piles on.
No more tans
No more beach
its cold enough
for no ice cream :(

I'm bad at lying
Please don't lie to me

Brrrr
It’s cold outside
The sky is gray
With a feeling of rain or snow
People are bundled up
In coats, hats and scarves
Brrrr
It’s cold
At home
People hide under blankets
Seeking any kind of warmth
A fireplace is welcome
For both people and animals
Brrr
It’s cold outside
Winter is on its way
The season is changing
Snow, sleet and cold rain
Get ready

Just like an emergency moment
The Siren of my bed alarm banged -
-Brrr-Brr- Brrriiiirrrr
And like and obedient dog to the call of its own
I picked the speed of light
And rushed out of the stage of my dream

Picking myself like a bullent been shot
I dashed from room to room
Working myself up to meet the sunrise

But, lo, again I failed
Yes, I failed hurribly
Cos, I woke up on the wrong side of the Time
Wow! my wrong side of the Time.

Brrrr  
Baby it’s cold outside
Jackets and scarves required
The air is crisp and clear
The sky is clear
The sun is out in it’s full regalia
The city is awake
Traffic moving
The café is almost empty
Too cold to come out
People huddled with their coffee
The steam offering warmth
Baby it’s cold outside
Hard to go out
Bed sounds nice where it’s warm
Winter is here and
Brrrr Wednesday

they all gathered around to hear
the little girl sing
and she seemed so happy
about it
she had to cry first
But they wouldn't dare join her in her
cry and instead cheered and
urged her to carry on

Sing

And she opened her mouth
to sing
but her mouth was wrong
in as far as singing went
broken
askew
defective
And she kept on singing
and they smiled brightly and dared
not flinch as she sprayed their
faces with spit

but eventually her mother started crying
and father embraced mother and
guided her red face against his
chest and started crying as well
and buried his red face in her hair

Our daughter is so talented
Oh God, oh dear God, so talented

And they began to pray
silently
and the aunt prayed she won't have
to name the song the little girl was singing
Oh God...

And the little girl went
pffff pfff brrr wa pfff chhh pff
with her swollen tongue between the
deformed lips
and surveyed the crowd and wondered
why her cousin wasn't present

Well, it was his loss
somehow he always got grounded
before her concertos

What an idiot

earlier in the day i dropped into the local co-op for
two ciders and some cheap white ***...
jeez... like ******* on a star anise...
or eating a tablespoon of cinnamon with some
sichuan peppercorns: tong- 'umbing...
cheap ***** alcohol... no wonder it's a cringe fest...
sooner me: ******* a lemon - gratified than
this terrible escapade...
some five hours later i dropped in (again)
for two pints of milk...
first time round she was gearing up to her shift...
automating: hello, thank you, would you like
a receipt, would you like a bag...
have a nice day... paid by card...
oh i wasn't going to let her get away that
easily... for a cashier... god... what a lovely sight!
a sight before Picasso's **** with cubism...
hair done in an onion fold... or however
Shiva does his bun of hair...
such a lovely sight...
that running joke about how copper wire was
invented: two scots arguing over a penny...
the englishman has the least amount of money
in his wallet... since he'd sooner pay for a 90 pence
bottle of milk with a debit card than
cough up a piece of metal with ol' Lizzy's
effigy on it...
    i rummaged the house for a pound:
of value... not of weight...
        upon payment i placed the pound sort of:
"funny" into her hand...
some strange sort of magic: tensed muscles...
excessively protruding knuckles without
a fist... whatever it was... i managed to steal her
eyesight... she gave me a 10 pence change
and eyed me with those most feline sort of eyes...
darting with mascara and auxiliary enigmas...
blue... green eyed boy meets a blue eyed girl...
immediately that same pull...
like when my cat started to pronounce her hind
when being groomed...
those eyes are an anchor... i'm sinking...
what day is it tomorrow?
                   good on me for having a bicycle
and not a car...
no m.o.t., no road tax... no insurance...
  plus in London with the "green" congestion
charge creeping up to include the A406...
tube... bus... train... bicycle...
i'd sooner get to Hyde Park on my bicycle
than if i left the house and used public transport...
hell... i could have asked: fancy a quickie in
the Bower forest... midnight... the moon ought
to be ******...
all this from... placing a pound coin funny on
her hand... jeez... i must have touched some nerve
ending... woken up a nervy octopus...
her pupils started to squirt ink all over me
while i ended up walking home with two pints
of milk and an イレズミ that not only covered
my back but my entire face...

summa summarum...
me &... dating? when i can excavate so many words
from a meeting of eyes that entwines for
about a second and as briskly: feverishly
disappears: i wouldn't want a profile debauchery...
uncomfortable meh and & oh sows...

... eclipse mount gay Barbados ***...
a *** so refined it can be drank solo... straight...
better than mr. whiskers & ms. amber...
*** so good... it tickles the left side of my brrr
ain...
my nose and makes my moustache into a frizzle...
moustache: mouse... t'ache: take...
moose: t'ash...
on point with the katakana:
five free standing vowels
but only one consonant...

                 no ideograms... almost Hangul...
not as compact: terrible in terms of punctuation...
lower case upper case: non-existent...
oh and if you were to throw in
that who shebang when katakana is discarded
and hiragana is employed: interchangeably...

agreed... you ought to have an ideogram
for... say... red squirrel (somewhere):
risu aka... or aka risu...
                                       リス赤
a bit like... our, western, ******* by comparison:
emoticons... eh... a little bit less of everything...
but i will not have the same fascination
with ideograms like Ezra did...
however complex the skeleton...
what comes at the end of the complication
is still somewhat of a shared sound...
shove shoe into shackles...
call it: foot... if you'd like...

but ideograms and... say... traffic lights...
prompts... surds... almost...
see green: go! *******! go!
amber... gamble...
red... stop! stop!
why isn't green replaced with blue?
blue i.e. go water go!
perhaps because if it were blue...
in direct sunlight... it would not be all that much
visible?
i don't know i don't care
for once i don't want a scientific explanation...
science was fun... no... since chemistry and the thrill
of alchemy has... been exhausted...
toothpaste... shampoo... we're good to go...

back to the chemistry of the kitchen...
just wait while i drop a black cardamom grenade
into the the topic of cooking up
a biryani... "risotto"... you'll be gagging for
a sip of Laphroaig...

i need to visit the brothel...
hmm... i just read this one article in the printed press...
losers... losers everywhere...
as a fatalist: winning is hardly: winning...
losing is a de facto: delay button:
buttoned up tux... smart penguins one minute...
choking seagulls the next...
that i read the printed press: in paper...
well... with all the weekend magazines...
art critics... t.v. critics... restaurant critics...
fashion...
i like to read what solipsists read...

"incels are crackpots and not philosophers"...
james: not the Marriot 'otel...
i was going for a joke...
an incel, a jihadi... a don juan walk into a bar...
into a nunnery...
better still... an incel, a jihadi and...
jimmy savile walk into an orphanage...
at least one walks out an Abraham...
is that even a joke?
who's winning? status...
they're still going on about the fate of Afghanistan
like it matters to them: not being Afghans...
oh how the women will suffer!
Louis... calm Louise...
it's not like the rest of the... Ummah cared that
much about Afghanistan to begin with...
the fleabag riddled infested cave dwelling
cousins of... an idea that is now...
the absurdity of Dubai...
a bit like my romance with the Scots...

what about the jihad that ought to take place
to... free those Chinese Muslims
in the indoctrination camps?
no jihad for the Uyghurs i suspect...
evil west... blah blah... ******* blah...
i'm going to slobber on that f- and subsequent blah...
for m'ah UMMAH!

- i almost forgot how much fun it is to cycle from
outer London into... a tourists' paragraph...
gall: i was, oh i was... so so... amazed...
by the sights!
my favourite sights...
stern suited "alpha" males of Bank
through to the sugar babies of Oxford St...
if one oriental chick didn't take a fancy
at this "viking": flash her knickers:
Rolling Stones?! where?! where?!
i would be surprise...
through little Sri Lanka through
to an even bigger kaput: of Islamabad...
sorry... but coming to Marble Arch...
those drums... those red flags with Arabic script...
m'eh... some holiday... Dickens was cited...
i got off my bicycle and fell on the greener
than grass symptom of.. something...

lay there... caressing what somehow would
have been a beard... or the top of my head...
oops... gravity and this bulging sack load of:
running dry the project of society...
amphetamine charged:
running dry on dinosaur-juice!
drums & the whole celebration...
i almost picked up a raven feather
i almost pulled out my makeshift
hand-pistol and pulled the trigger at the audacious
drummers...

it's their own: you know... Hyde Park is...
living the livid part of...
all is the living the livid part of
Hazlitt wrote a book about it...
containing hatred: with proper categorisation
of where to deposit the required effort...
well... a momentum ******* like
no other! contempt breeds contempt...
if i am a "westerner" deemed contemptible
by these... sophisticated:
people... cave-dwelling folk... discovered
fire... by way of the Quran... no worries...
i'm just waiting for the invasion
of the Polacks... hell... i'll see what the Russians
are up to... ***** chess ***** chess...
literature... knee depth: alias: no need
to bother...
contempt breeds contempt...

otherwise London looks pricey...
i still like to be the tourist on a ******* bicycle
ever now & then...
CS2 *****... those cyclists are like
pedestrians... let me sing joy in clinging
to proper traffic... trucks... buses... HUVs HGVs...
whatever... that overpass over the Bow roundabout
just gleamed: it SCREAMED! i'm empty... ride me!
so i did...
ha... a man and his bicycle: too bad
it wasn't a horse...
to hell with the car... me: i peddle... i generate my own
momentum...
head full of cashews...
enough pressure and the proper sort of attire
of the tire... cwunch: rrrrr-everse...
a puddle of gangrene meddling in oats on
the pave-                           -ment...

quintessential 1990s song...
crowded house: take the weather with you...
or the Afghan cave network...
which might make the Mexicans shy up:
sober... ******* spastic fantastic:
straight line dig...
but not the flea-infested last cousins
of the Ummah... beginning with
Dubai... of course the Muzzies have
no problem with their brethren sitting on
dinosaur juice... wasting it...
cities in the desert!
castles in clouds!

daffodils on make-shift islands in the middle
of the Pacific: watch the Taiwanese blush...
best to look the part...
status: WINNER... whiner...
appearances are everything...
the devil didn't come with fire & sulphur...
he came with... smoke & mirrors...
gesticulating: like Lee Evans...
this... elbow... doesn't... "row" / "work"...

spaz fantasticsch...

people take photographs of themselves:
no one ever hardly has their picture taken...
onanism par with the monobrow of
that... quizzical "Quixote"... of the haxan
brush strokes... never mind...
spot the alpha male spot
the eye-blinders!
om om... mega mega: *****-****-show:
best perform... in latex and no ******:
snooze the *******... please... ha...
ah... hmm...

we through with the greek alphabet?
no beta orbiters?
good to know some people managed to...
sort life out...
they kept busy... out of every instance:
a persistence... hey presto!
post-existentialism!
no no... we're done with concerns...
we're going to do a magic carpet ride...
right now...
conventional use of language is alreaady
too busy with journalistic antics
keeping up with the rubric...
2 x 2 =

          bring me fire! it's time to learn from
Islam... well... if the Mongols are not willing
to plunder one more time...
for a surname in Pakistan being: Khan...
but... the genes... being diluted thus...
no sign of lemon ******* sputnik in the eyes...
well then...
inter-racial breeding...
it dilutes itself after about two generations...
it's a nice idea...
landlocked in mirrors...
guess the time: call it sea...

mind you... "you"?! i was boggled down in this...
times cryptic crossword no. 28,058...
i'm terrible with crosswords...
looks like the grandfather of
sudoku died... マキ (aerials... ki... key...)
       カ (k'ah... i can almost see the ア...
but Shinto emoticons help me... i can't see the...
K's at)...
               Yi: jaw dropping: jittering: alias
for a gloated in giggles Jinn... drunk sober
on gin...
that's Yi: Ye! not an upper-case Greek:
by the gammon load... pierces pearls...
and skin so... troublesome it ought to require...
dying the hair: PINKSCH...

maybe just maybe i'm terrible at crosswords
because i'm entrenched in bilingualism...
suppose i give you a clue...
then the whim...

      not British, Weimar dramatist is
genuine...
                      ECHT...
that's einz? the one time a german will utter
the letter Z like it's not a slavic C
via the cyrilic ц?
    *****... probably works miracles
where otherwise **** ought to do...
            
some script - girl mostly follows it...
   ITALIC...

conjuring ghosts seems to be a science:
by comparison...

ECHT EIGHT EXT... yes.. i have Eaten...
have i ate? yes... but am i late to
whatever is happening in ol' Liban?
no... i'm pretty sure to be on time...

i'll cycle through to central London
once more... come tomorrow...
i'll hijack Brick Lane...
by pebble by pebble
and make it near impossible to cycle
a road-bike on cobwebbed streets..
because of the 23cm wheels...

freezing point: if i had children...
such are the latitudes of joys...
the best thoughts come:
but i will not be deserving a funeral...
there will not be a procession...
i'll simply... tidy up...
i'll disappear...

for a while i imagined myself
the speed demon stabbing myself
in the neck... in the thighs...
anywhere available to make a relief
of the suckling oysters to the female
genitals...

oh cruel cruel nature...
why so unforgiving... ha... ah ha...
so realistic... so... intrinsically: charged...
fickle wording: pudding...
my half cleft hiding position
in the ***** of the hardest 'ock... roar...
akimbo one calls it...

Faroe Faroe...
       greyish skid... "jeg" blomstrer...
"den": vilje... henge...
hen-gh'eh...

              i love women... but it's a terrible
"idea" to **** a ******...
i prefer prostitutes...
not that i have lost anything...
or gained anything...
is it anything nothing more or less...
anxious western beta orbiters looking for
a hook-up...
i don't want to be a banker...
i don't want status...
i don't want the world...

            none of this envy churning crap will
work on me...
whatever the size of the harem...
between you & me...
David or Solomon?
David... for defeating Goliath...
and writing the Psalms...
of course Solomon is the king of Envy...
king Solomon:
la Rachefauc...

                   le rachelacaut

la rochefoucauld... Solomon...
wisdom or a man... arrayed with keeping
a harem... anyone could be wise...
if he had... entry to pillow-talk...
wet-a-*****... in a harem...
oh **** me... all the wisest hebrews
gesticulate...
by the signs of the cross...
rabbi i... please do not put my name down
on the future plundering:
this here: "reserved" whiskers... ahem...
whizz...                      -dom....

HAUSÉ....

honest­ly? the Cyrillic alphabet?
looks like cheap-****...
it's somewhat Greek... but...
but... it's a work-around...
i can work with it... what are my alternatives?
******* Glagolitic Croat?

3 to 4 days, the ridiculous sun reigned
over the clear blue skies
   in essex, and london...
   3 to 4 "god-fearing" days, of utter
hell...
      sweating upon waking,
sweating upon falling asleep,
     and weating interim -
ah: until it's typical english grey,
suffocating, humid, beijing-like
overcast...
                but at least the sun isn't
biting you, like a million gnats...
and here comes the cultural oddity...
in england, a bbq is a luxury...
     it's a spectacle, where you invite
your friends over, and have a "par-tay"...
you drink more beer than you
eat food... perhaps if they followed
protocol, and drank ice-cold *****,
they'd realise, they could actually
eat all that was plated...
   any-hoo...
                it's not a luxury... to start
up a bbq in such forsaken weather...
it's not a luxury, it's a necessity...
because: what numb-nuts would
   bother cooking a meal indoors?
in what resembles a sauna?
     it's not even about the french ponce
ritual of al fresco...
        no, not that i mind to remember,
i just don't want to imitate a roofer
throwing permaquic / hot-melt /
       tar doughnuts into a boiler on
the roof, when it's 30+ or even more,
on top of the roof...
             what numb-nuts would deem
a bbq a luxury?
      ask any australian (aussie aussie aussie!
oi! oi! oi!) about the ritual
                sacrifice on the barbie;
there's no luxury, there's only a necessity,
a convenience...
       **** staying in doors and cooking
with this heat...
       i need a breeze... a brrrease...
like today, spontaneity took over me...
****, i need a salad, a quickie, a quickie
salad...
             mozzarella... tomatoes, fresh basil,
garlic infused olive oil, salt, pepper...
         wah-lah! what a pretty patch
       of colour, in the culinary woods...
some say, that in the past few days,
    people didn't go to sleep sweating,
they went to sleep crying...
   which i can imagine...
     i had my little furnace going too...
for some reason, glass amplifies
        sunlight...
              oh and it did, it did...
           so i wonder:
   why do people turn to masochistic
holidays?
   demanding: if no beach, sun,
palm tree or a coconut... no go!
   huh?!
               why don't people go on
holiday into cooler climates,
                       like scandinavia?
yes, **** on me... those skiing holidays...
but that's engaging in a sport...
i mean holidays of laziness, in cooler
climates... why isn't that popular,
   or ever appreciated?
                   must be
a "white privilege"... "thing" to attest
such a desire...
                      the youtube community
is awash with all these didactic counters...
i'm starting to see "militant" atheists
   in the same way i might recognise
    evangelical christians....
   and i ******* hate evangelical atheists...
militant hoo-d'eh-who?
                      militant? as in
obnoxious?
                   it's inverse cartesian:
the i am becomes before the i think...
hence so much talk talk talk talking...
           i need to identify as one, to presume
i can think as one...
          the so-called badge of "honour",
which is nothing but a hidden mohawk,
and to be called punk.
             whenever, wherever, the same
trend remains: to congregate,
to be allowed access into a group mentality...
militant atheism? more like
    populist atheism, and yes,
    the evangelical bit can also be attached.

does it always become a quest
to: pretend to play the violin...
when fiddling with one's beard?
esp... a best trimmed beard
self-trimmed outside of the confines
of the ottoman barber shop?

most probably...
   this self-loving of owning a beard...
all this self-loving of...
keeping a tighter trim on
the ***** region in eden...
   it's not like: i'm playing
with an advantage...
****-sure... not really...
but most certainly half the ****-envy
of a workaholic piston master
to pump pump and...
         push a ring closure on
the matter...

   it's just so easy when...
you can only tell the truth...
          
     and my mother complains...
"verbatim":
   'and how do you think i feel when
people talk about their children...
and i can't say anything about you...
and how do you think i feel when
they talk about their children
and i don't know what to say about you'...

'unless anyone asks...
and they are not inclined to talk to
me directly... tell them i exist'...

oh this sort of shame of conversation
visited the house today...
house: my prison...
2 hours pretending to be empty air
in the kitchen...
2 hours... perhaps teasing 3...
and my parents talked with
the parents of my contemporaries...

married: i don't know whether
happy... hell: i don't even know whether
left with: still interesting leftovers...
married though:
so life hijacked... moving on...
pristine relief from passing on...
                  the Dean Neil and Aaron...
and i'm like...
strapped to a corner of a kitchen
pretending to not be there...
   i sat there... looked at clouds...
the lasted long enough...
      playing rat...
        then i took out the permanent ink
felt-tip...
and drew happy faces on plum tomatoes
on cans...
and angry faces on onions
yet to be peeled...
          
   and i drew an imitation face...
on a milk bottle almost emptied and most
certainly gone south with mrs. sour...
like...
it was blur's: coffee and tv...
but... pig... sorry... big mistake...
the nose? i guess probably missing
in the original... mr. potato *******
a squiggly clean piglet...

   coffee and tv...
              take-over of guitarist singing...
the lead singer thinking of a...
    stow-away project:
                      a bit like what happened
with system of a down...

so now i know... mother calls out:
MATTHEW...
                  मआफऊ (M-A-F-U)...
terrible prank of surds...
                   perhaps add 'ebrew...
         (מַתִּתְיָהוּ)... sorry... no braille nikkud
of the ishraelites...
                    not ctrl + c / + p for...
    Larry Tesler: either...
    hidden vowels: (מתתיהו)
   except for the "unexpected" (ו)...
works fine... (מתיה) - and of course...
this is not a place for trivial matters...
kibbutz / shurek...
          the universe of yetzirah...
formation... who's inhabitants
                        are angels...
a pretty ***** antithesis angel sits
with a genius gizmo on one
of my shoulders... and a *******
devil on the other...
                    
point being: i wasn't there...
  so much for having to talk about me...
as one parent to another...
something to boast with...
something to bargain...
since... as some point...
people tend to exhaust their own...
self-orientating junctions of
webbing out...

to merely think isn't enough...
with the n.p.c. meme and what not...
res extensa matters as much...
       that i am: coming to realise...
men can fathom the rex extensa
concept more: the heliocentric model
better than women...
and their: yes yes... they can have
their res cogitans model...
but also... that geocentric model of affairs...

i'm too a hot-head and a rod...
filled with brimming emotional spaghetti...
i sometimes think: last...
2 hours in the kitchen...
drawing angry comic faces on onions
and mild neuter faces on milk bottles...
i had to...

   then i started to bewilder myself
by holding an egg in my hand...
   a chicken egg: some variation of
a philosopher's stone...
   and doodle i did... on this... favourite...
of an edible abortion...
i was so "crass" enough...
to itch... a quasi-giraffe donning...
a pseudo-shtreimel...
    and a... bloated... chess-board...
and some variation of cubism:
an imitation orb / circle...
   two lines and a line of "morse"...
and the thought...
perhaps the idea of a flat earth
is in no way an aid for...
reading a map... or g.p.s....
   but what if: the currently ascribed to...
form... is... as its orbit... oval?

petty questions: requisite of doodling:
of encompassing time as much as passing
it... since... the space i occupy will
neither spontaneously implode...
or explode: for a libra "question"
of improving my toll...
or disproving my bogus inquisitiveness...
as being... a labour of innocence /
a labour of love... a labour or...
missing the concept of serious matters:
necessarily undertaken...

oh don't mind me...
    who am i... to quest the question
of serious... study in science from
an angle of humanism...

i still think you need to keep oneself
humble.... beside copernican...
to navigate a car...
from england to poland...
via that spaghetti of towing-tie
and spaghetti of cement
surrounding Antwerp and the German
Rhine Valley precursor:
Dortmund... Essen... Duisburg...

the idea of "leveraging" truth...
no... lies... are worth leveraging...
given... fictive-esque inconsistencies...
truth is so *******...
it's... mono-dimensional:
uni-  no-no-dimensional...
         truth is a rude worth among...
peacocking liar...
hell: an ugly word...
            and hell is... never:
a "dasein"... claustro-phobe-cluster:
lost of wit and ****...
besides... the already missing...
                        ridicule...

DASEIN (there being...
there's being) - godzilla vs.:
                        JETZTSCHAUSPIEL!
now "drama": spectacle...
    
   and those... prischtine nails... d'ough done!

decipher...
             a bottle of rice wine vinegar...
yep... the chinese ideograms...

disclaimer... hello poetry doesn't allow
chinese ideograms...
to read with chinese ideograms...
see here:

     supposing i was "bored"...
"by the *****"...
and no... of course... no *****...
   best of tutti-frutti... boom-balloon...
quicksilver and...
              if i had time in a bottle...
          sweet dreams are made of these...

choke-chin-and-chew a linking
up with those 3 million hong kong lottery
winners from the...
revival of the bright-and-bored...
hemp'yre... of the broadening
the wit of a brrr brrr...

water:
      tablespoon:
               teaspoon:
     rice:
     white:
           vinegar:
              chicken?
         corn:
                sliced:
  common characters
in ingredient, marinade,
seasoning:
   sugar:

https://allpoetry.com/poem/15276526-nothing-ever-happens-to-bachelors...-by-Matthew-Conrad-a­dult

me... mandarin and myopia...
me and chinese and: best luck with a concept
of ABC...
the crude sounds... and all these...
elaborations of phonetic encoding?
these games of matchsticks...
x-rays... and chopper-chop?

pretending to cope with a psycopathic
lost pretending for lord-over "cwue"...
but these crude syllables and sounds...
and all the rest of it... being allowed to...
decipher in liquid squid amount of acid
and other... digestive monstrosities...

best no good: no good...
that's best... no good... that's best...
no good: nothing working around
shadowing inhibitions...at best:
no good... this is the only good...
my miser self in stençil... like...
Liberace's closet carnival!

ooh.... yeah!
ha ha! ******* "anonymous"... ha!

an abbreviation of: sensible people
                                               "physics": meta-
            physics...
           and that there's a theatre of
ortho-graphy... no matter!
the trans- avenue is 'ere!
          von krafft-ebing is too!
19th century morality and today's
islam...
burroughs in tangiers in
the 1960s -
   two homosexuals should be legal:
in a... polygamous society...
because: wha' toa' dough?
                  never mind the red button:
nukes are nukes and...
           bellybutton piercing is:
beside kissing the frog to be prince...
jerking off is not akin to measuring
blood pressure... or... sugar levels...
it's an act of debility:
it's an act gateway ****...
knee sensation leading up to *******...
no clean shaven ***:
readily a goat made available among
the camel jockeys and...
      19th century: if *******
was a crime... so was... phallus worship
and a gamorrah passport when
eating: "flower patterns" of
"excess" skin... ******* was
as bad as oral ***...
             according to... a very respected
portion of signifying a noted down
period of history...
then again: what ***?
                          granny smithy was
about to be peeled for a pie...

    crayonner les portraits de tes trois imposteurs:
might as well be latin... the portraits
of your 3 impostors...

i must be a dumb dumbing down imbecile
i can craft an "answer"
to... the already solved solution

478531692
321796584
596248317
683157429
719423856
25486­9731
862975143
147382965
935614278....

          solve that i can...
loopholes and blind-spots and
cul de sacs... dodo avenues...

how a dodo is minded a tier above
a mammoth...
perhaps my affair with crosswords...
perhaps just english crosswords...
they're not focusing
on...

1across): forbidden writer given
external stimulus...
                
       PRO-SCRI-BED...
               from... prohibited?
      scribler: latin for writer...
              scribo: to write...
"external stimulus": pro...
            pro-scribed: contra prohibited...

  i'm bilingual and supposedly
schizophrenic: i'm already a quadratic of
language... i'll lean toward german...
and some russian...
hebrew and latin and perchance:
i find some greek?!

what are these... puzzle-wordings of...
mono-lingual people?!
an eczema...
crossword puzzles must be...
archeological findings of
mono-lingual people...
not with bilingualism:
the people who already have a crossword
puzzle in their head:
red is: czerwony...
blue is: niebieski...
the earth is: ziemia...
the sky is: niebo...

those real: "adventure" people...

7across) female organißation backed by
iron lady...
                     WIFE...

20across) this writer getting to stay endlessly
after party creates a row...
          DOMESTIC...

clearly the clue is... much more
complicated than the:
the cipher is more complex than the decipher...

some people just like complicated answers
to simple questions...
others... i hate... i hate these "people"...
that have a complicated question:
and the answer is so simple!

12down) sort of ******, getting a BSc
perhaps!
          first-degree...
                         of course it's FIRSTDEGREE...
thirst is another matter...

an obvious one:
2down) meadows covered in grass given up
      RELEASED...

       23across) scot offering a song at funeral...
ALASTAIR...
             alastair is also a greek baby name...
alias: alexander...
        defender / protector of mankind...
hardly a dirge singer...
          
   clearly not a focus for antonyms / synonyms...
me too dumb... me not good with...

11across) woodpecker and two mythological
figures flying around...
        YAFFLE
                  a green woodpecker...
   fair enough... the word went out of fashion...
but where does: two mythological figures
flying around come in... for the killer "clue"?!

how about this clue:
ol' term 'pecker: slot 'um shlang in 'im
poops pop zenith circa 1943:
charlie charlie... hail proctor!
how's that for a... 'ucking diguise?!

sure sure... just give me the *******
numbers...     if i had time for this sort of *******...
i'd still be speaking only one language...
forgive! no passport...
head-up-the-****-of: to the west!
hamburger mania! las vegas: swee'
chyl' o' mein...
you'll get the iota and the delta back...
when i see that...
chil' and the apostrophe do not...
allow you to venture into: chill... savvy?!
how's that for a crossword?!

of course: there's the suez and chyle...
sweet: chil': chyle: not chill:
ergo... child o'                          mind-Frrrreeeeze!
Siberian tundra: or the plateau near
bolshevik Belgrade...
come D'cem'ber...
   through: brrr... bi-nautical-collars!
smart doesn't get filtered:
stupid... on the other hand? does...
stupid from being irritated... ****'ed...
       part an' parcle:

imagine the faux pas of: 'nome...
   it's a bit like a colon and followed up
with italics: like so... double the already existing
emphasis?
apostrophe for the surd... 'nome and gnome...
'nife and knife...
      hell! "they" could have... said... so, n'est-ce pas?!

"recently": keith flint died...
yeah... but the brains didn't...
last time i heard... liam howlett...
i'm pretty ******* sure... no grand spectacle...
when that grand: event 'appens...
keith flint died...
but liam howlett is... the brains...
still alive....              nay ******! or... boVer...
for: fer... ferr  urn und fern uber yearn:
          theta: ******* twin of 'i love sophie...
and her sour cream-ups!

here's to "adventure"!
        and of course: any outlandish:
impromtu swabian:
            because the saxons never made it to
the prefix         anglo-.

either... desperately seek constipation
         via
pretend (ing) to spill more ink
than - by any stretch of the imagination /
by a needle ***** too - blood
given: it's not exactly paper that's
wasted...
                times are dire...
we need toilet paper
                               and not newspapers:
or at least let's pretend
we would like some coal -
   otherwise this neon insomnia will
bury me in a brrr of brittle cold...
                      but that's just that...
nothing new to write so a morning
with a ms. amherst of sorts -
             as you do... when nothing's new...
so as i see it...
i either sit here and waste a perfectly
good wintry morning...
pretending to ooze out an aflation...
   clearly i'm not: brain-fudge-fidgety
yes... custard for thought and
oozing nuggety gravy too, yes...
          all that's missing is a rubric /
slanting linear of some verbiage
baggage (un)like a rhetorician invoking
tautology...
   the air should be refreshing
since it rained all night...
       yes... come to think of it...
these legs will give me more ease
by being put to use than these fingers -
i should have them broken
and this "piano" dropped on
  a fat head of a cow - or something of
the sort...
besides... from the white tower
of havering-atte-bower...
        to that luminous tower past chigwell
i'm guessing in the direction of woodford
or i suppose wanstead...
but no... it couldn't be the galleon &
heronwood hospital...
   but it just might...
               a little / more an odd pilgrimage
to... circa 1999's summer
with the flooding of memory of "someone"...
at least a walk that will span
the horizon of what i can see...
  mind you...
       there's something else...
i don't know why i'm invoking a direct
addressee with these words...
   mind i... at first the name seemed appropriate...
that these were: aspen trees...
they weren't aspen... they're not...
and sure as **** i know what an acorn is...
and an acorn nor an oak they ain't either...
unless you were to walk
down... parkway just by Raphael Park...
on the corner...
   this contender to...
   sierra redwoods...
                        yep... north h'american big
trees...
          sequoias...
   in havering-county park...
         oh i'm guessing circa two dozen...
           i even hoped to stick a jelly-gum
to a piece of paper and onto each of these
trees to give them quasi nicks'...
sequoias... in essex, england...
               i'm not mistaken
                               but still dumbfounded
one of those 'huh?!' moments that's
beside awe: awe is not necessary...
              that much is certain...
   this had to be written anything had
to be written and better still no ink no paper
just enough electricity to
compete with a coffee-mill's worth
of 3 cups / and the kettle that boiled
three cups of water...
   come to think of it... probably less.

Happy new year!
Happy new year!
You can see sleep, altogether.

You concerat!
All back to me!
All to together, yalyptyp.

I break to go!
You can the need!
All you are boy, this is friendly.

You top top top!
Action motor!
Mi nachenaem, programmu.

Im its you go!
That you prekol!
It's you crazy, programma.

You understand!
Happy new year!
What is you go, pelorama.

Its are to me!
My dialect!
You can see sleep, altogether.

That its the white!
Snow its alright!
Santa its Claus, all be back-back.

Ol ol alright!
That's is the night!
I'm go to my, friendly fire 🔥.

That its to boy!
And my she's!
And to the woman, its likes.

And cold to me!
Brrr, of to you!
t🥶t🥶t🥶t🥶, altogether.

That of consort!
You concerat!
All be come back, altogether!