By A Foreigner

I like Canadians.
They are so unlike Americans.
They go home at night.
Their cigarettes don't smell bad.
Their hats fit.
They really believe that they won the war.
They don't believe in Literature.
They think Art has been exaggerated.
But they are wonderful on ice skates.
A few of them are very rich.
But when they are rich they buy more horses
Than motor cars.
Chicago calls Toronto a puritan town.
But both boxing and horse-racing are illegal
In Chicago.
Nobody works on Sunday.
Nobody.
That doesn't make me mad.
There is only one Woodbine.
But were you ever at Blue Bonnets?
If you **** somebody with a motor car in Ontario
You are liable to go to jail.
So it isn't done.
There have been over 500 people killed by motor cars
In Chicago
So far this year.
It is hard to get rich in Canada.
But it is easy to make money.
There are too many tea rooms.
But, then, there are no cabarets.
If you tip a waiter a quarter
He says "Thank you."
Instead of calling the bouncer.
They let women stand up in the street cars.
Even if they are good-looking.
They are all in a hurry to get home to supper
And their radio sets.
They are a fine people.
I like them.

[A] is for
An
Archer with
An
Arrow through his
Adams
Apple, very
Applicable, to the
Ample
Amounts of
Amiable
Attitude,
Adorning his heart, in
After
Action
Attributes, that impart, the
Admiration, of
*******, in this
Acting out of
Arrogance bit. he is,
Astute, in his
Allure, and
Aloof, in the
Air, of
Aspiration, in which, he was
Alienated in the
Agony, of
Asking
Assassins, the
Aforementioned. lights, camera,
Action. recipe of the
Ancient
Admirals of
Avian
Aliens, that
Attacked, with the
Arms and fists, of
Arachnids, now
Aching to be
Activated in sudden
Allegiance to the
Answers, of the truth.
Accumulating wealth for
Anarchy's of
Abating
Angels in
Atrophied,
Alchemical
Academies of the ever
After life .. . of silence.
****** strengthens in these
Accolades of violence, in
Alliance to
Appliances
Appearing in the
Arson of
Apathy, happily, to
Anguish in the
Amputation of my
Abdomen, if it meant i'm a real
American, even, when, only
Ash, remains.
Acclimating in its remains
Attained, the
Articles of my pain, in
Affluent shame, next time ..
Aim... oak
[A]?

[B] is for the
Bah of
Black sheep, and
Big
Bit¢hes, fat cats,
Bombarded in the
Blasted,
Bastion of
Blackened
Benevolent
Blokes,
Berating the
Blasphemous,
Be-seech, of
Brains, to feel
Bad, about the
Blotching of
Binary codes, erroding, the
Blanked out
Books, of
Belittled
Bureaucrats,
Bowling
Back the
Bank rolls of
Betterment, from the
Back of the
Blackened
Bus, as i'm
Busting guts, in the
Bubbling
Butts, of *****
Benched, but
Beautiful, in the
Battle, in the
Bane, of existence.
Baffled, in the strain of
Belligerence, in
Beating the
Beaming
Butchery into
Billy's
Broken
Brains, in
Bouts, of
Battering
Bobby's for
Bags of
*******
Before, affording to
Build
Bombs, is just
Beyond
Breaking
Beer
Bottles on the
*******
Benefactors of
Boulder
Bashing with the
Beaks, of
Birds, with no
Bees. just a
Being, trying to
[B]


[C] is for the
*****
Courting the
Choreography, in
Computerized
Curtains,
Circumventing the
Cultured,
Contrivance of
Chromatic
Cellars,
Calibrating, to the
Contours of
Calamities,
Celebrating the
Cyclical,
Cylinders of
Cyphered
Calenders,
Correcting the
Calculations, of
Crooks
Coughing, in
Courageous
Coffins of
Canadians,
Collecting
Cobble stones, from
Catacombs, in the lands of the
Conquered,
Capturing the
Claps of thieves, sneaky
Cats, of greed. its
Comedy. oh
Comely, to my
Cling of
Cleanliness, and for your self
[C]

[D] is for the
Dip *****, as they
Delve
Deeper in the
Deliverance, of
Deviant
Deities,
Dying to
Demand
Dinner
Delivered in the throws of
Death,
Deceiving
Defiance of
Darkened
Dreams,
Demeaning that which
Deems the
Dormant of the
Dominant, to be
Demons of
Deviled
Devilry,
Dooming us for
Destruction.
Deploy the,
Damsels in
Duress.
Defiled and
Distressed,
Detestable and
Dead. in the thump of
Drums,
Dumbing down the
Debts of,
Dire regrets.
Dissect the
Daisies of,
Disillusion, in the current
Days,
Diluting night into
Dawn,
Disconnecting the
Dots of the
Dichotomy, and arming me, in the
Diabolatry, of,
Demonology, as i watch me
Dwindle away, the
[D]

[E] is for
Everything in nothing,
Eating the
Euphoric
Enigmas of
Enlightened
Elitists,
Exceeding in the
Extravagant
Essence of
Esoteric
Euphemisms,
Escaping the
Elegance of the
Elements in the
Eccentricity of
Eclectic
Ecstasy,
Exhaling, the
Exostential blessings, of inner
Entities, and renouncing the
Enemies of my
Ease,
Easily to appease
Extraterestrial
Empires,
Extracting the lost
Embers of
Enlightenment, in
Excited delight, but to later
Entice, the fight, and
Escape, like a thief into the night of
Everywhere,
Entering the
Exits of
Elevators leading no where, to
Elevate, this useless place,
Encased in malware in the
Errant
Errors of
Every man,
Enslaved, of flesh and
Entrails,
Enveloping the core of
Everything, that matters,
Enduring, the chatter, of
Evermore,
Ever present in
Everybody
Ever made to take
[E]

Funk the
Ferocity of
Foolish
Fandangos, with
Fanged
Fanatics,
Fooled in the
Fiasco of
Fumbled
Fantasies,
Falling through the
Farms of
Freely
Found
Fans,
Flying in the
Fame of
Fortune.
Fornicating on the
Fallen
Fears of
Fat
Fish getting their
Fillet of
Fills.
Feel me in the
Frills

Granted with
Generosity.
Giblets of
Gratitude and
Greed,
Greeting the
Goop and
Gobbled
Gore,
Gleaned from the
Glamour of
Ghouls in
Gillie suits,
Getting what they
Got
Going, in the
Gratuitous
Gallows of a
Game
Gaffed by
Giants.

Hello to the
Horizon of
Hellish
Hilarity, in
Hope of
Happy, to
Heave from
Heifers, to
Help the
Hemp
Harshened
Hobos in
Heightened
Horror, to
Honor the
Habitats of
Hapless
Habituals,
Herbalising the work
Horse, named
Have Not, in the
Haughtily
Hardened
Houses of
Happenstance.

Ignore the
Ignorant
Idiots, too
Illiterate to
Indicate the
Indicative
Instances of
Idiom in the
Irrelevant
Inaccuracy of
I,
In the
Intellect of
Idle
Individuals,
Irritated with the
Irate
Illusion of
Idols
Illustrated upon the
Iris,
In the
Illumination of
I.

******* the
Jobless
Jokers, and
Jimmy the
Jerkins from their
Jammie's, in
Justified,
Jousting off the
Jumps, in
Jokes, and
Jukes of
Just
Jailers,
Jesting for
Jammed
Jury's to
****
Judgment from the
Jitter
Juiced
Jeans of
Jesus.

**** the
Keep of
Khaki-ed
Kool aid men,
Kept in the
Kilometers of
Kits,
Kin-less
Kinetics,
Knifing the
Knights of
Kneeling
Kinsmanship,
Keeling over the
Keys of
Kaine, with the
Karmic
Karate
Kick of a
Kangaroo.

Love the
Levity, in the
Luxurious
Laments of
Loveliness,
Lovingly
Levitating in
Level,
Lucidly.
Living in
Laps, of
Lapses,
Looping, but
Lacking the
Loom of the
Latches
Locked with
Leeches of the
Lonely
Lit
Leering of
Lightly
Limbs, that
Lash at the
Lessers in
Loot of
Lost letters,
Lest we
Learned in the
Lessons of
Liars.

Marooned in
Maniacal
Masterpieces,
Masqueraded as
Malignant
Memorization's of
Motionless
Mantras, but
Merrily
Masking
Mikha'el the
Mundane, who is
Musically
Mused of
Monsters,
Mangling the
Monitor, but
Maybe just a
Moniker of
Marauders.

Never to
Navigate the
Nautical
Nether of
Never
Nears.
Not to
Nit pic the
Naivety of
Nicety.
Notions
Neither take
Note
Nor
Name the
Noise of
Nats in the
Nights of
Neanderthals
Napping in the
Nets of
Ninjas

Ominous in the
Obvious
Omnipotence of
Oblivious
Obligatory
Opulence,
Of
Other
Oddly
Orchards
Of
Offices,
Ordaining
Orifices in
Offers of
Ordinary
Ordinances in
Option-less
Optics,
Optionally an
On-call Oracle, in
Optimal,
Overture.

Perusing the
Pestilent
Pedestals of
Personal,
Parameters,
Pursuing the
Petty
Plumes of
Piety with the
Patience of a
Pharaoh,
******* on the
People with the
Penal
Pianos of
Port-less
Portals, in the
Paperless
Points in the
Palpal
Pats of
Pettiness.
Poor, but
Prideful.

Quick to
Qualify the
Quitter for a
Quick
Quill in
Queer
Quivering of
Quickened
Questioning,
Queried in the
Quakiest of
Quandaries.
Quarantined to a
Quadrant, of
Quagmires.
Questing the
Quizzing of
Quotable
Quartets.

Relax in the
Relapse of
Realizations, and
React with
Racks of
Rolling
Rock to
Rate the
Rep of the
Rain-less.
Roar in
Rapturous
Rendering of the
Random
Readiness in the
Ravenous,
Rallying, of the
Retinal
Refracting of
Reality.
Realigning, the
Righteous
Rearing of the
Realm, and
Retrying.

Steer the
Serenity in
Sustainability, and
Slither through the
Seams of
Slumbered
Scenes.
Secrete the
Solo
Sobriety of
Sapped
Sassys,
Salivating upon a
Slew of
Stupidity,
Steadily
Supplied in
Stream,
Suitably
Slain in the
Steam of
Sanity.
Sadly, i
Still
Seem,
Salvagable.

Topple
The
Titans in
Tightened
Terror.
Torn
Territories
Turn
Turbulent in
The
Teething of
Totality.
The
Telemetry of
Time,
Tortured of
Torrent
Theories,
Told in
Turrets of
Transpiring
Terribleness, from
Tumultuous
Tikes unto
Teens,
Trading
Toys for
Tea.
Thrice
Thrusted upon by the
Tyranny of
Tanks.

Unanimous is the
Ugliness in the
Undertones of
Undreamed
Ulteriors
Undergoing the
Unclean in the
***** of
Utterly
Upset
Users,
Uplifting the
Unfitting
Ushers in
Underwear-less,
Ulcers,
Undergoing the
Ultra of
Uberness.

Venial in
Vindictive
Viciousness of
Vindicated
Venom,
Venomously
Vilifying the
Vials of
Villainy in the
Veins of
Vampires,
Validity of
Valuable
Violence, is
Valiant in the
Vaporous
Vacationing of
Vagrant
Vices.

Why
Whelp in the
Weather
When you can
Wave to the
Whirling
Wisps,
Whipping Where the
Whimsical Were
Way back in the
Wellness of
Whip its,
Wrangling my
World,
With
Waterless
Worms, as
War shouts are
Wasted in the
Wackiest
Walks of
Waking
Wonder.

Xenophobic
Xenogogue, of
Xenomorphic
Xeons, turn
Xyphoid, in the
Xenomenia of my
X, my
Xenolalia of
X, to
***. im lost in the
Xenobiotic zen of
Xerces, on a
Xebec to the
X on the map.
Xenogenesis, in the
Xesturgy of my
Xyston
Xd

Yelling
Yearned from
Yelping.
Yard
Yachts
Yielding, to the
Yodel of
Yeah
Yeahs, to the
Yapping of
******
Yuppie
Yoga
Yanks, over
Yonder.
Yucking it up with the
Yawn of a
Yocal.

Zapped from a
Zone i
Zoomed with
Zeal in the
Zig and
Zag of my
Zapping
Zimming
Zest, upon a
Zombie-less
Zeplin.
Zealot,
Zionist, or
Zoologists,
Zeros or ones, just
Zip your
Zip locked. and
Zzzzz
Zzzz
Zzz
Zz
Z
Zero

after that i'll let you wear my kneecaps for
prayer after that pagan harlot of a wife told me
it didn't rain because i wasn't a good enough ventriloquist
to her schizophrenia. i mean: **** just never stops!
(i actually like this line, apologies for vain-thought).*

"68% of Canadians respondent said that minorities
should be doing more to fit into mainstream society
instead of keeping to their own customs and languages..."

53% of American dittoed likewise...*

              a failure of multiculturalism is a failure
because: it didn't celebrate bilingualism -
i call that the Gaelic effect in Scotland just so
you know it was spoken in over-shadowed Gaelic
within a Glaswegian dialect...

  multiculturalism failed because it was easier to
make a lot of people deemed as schizophrenic
rather than have the ability to be bilingual...
multiculturalism is a failure because it made bilingualism
taboo and instead said: ah... be bisexual!
multicultural societies actually gambled on bisexuality
being more needed than bilingualism,
and anyone still bilingual and not bisexual
was ripened to be harvested by psychiatrists.

but i do wonder what these post-colonial societies
would have made of what the natives might have asked
them...
              i think the natives of America would have liked
the immigrants to appropriate at least some of their
cultural traits... and no keep them in natural reserves like
some talking monkeys...

it's not enough that i have to give up a part of my soul
that i then have to twang the tongue like a banjo
with all that Texan ma'am ******* like those Arabs
in Lebanese American Universities...
oh please, stop this *******,
   i'm puking with the French on the question:
if globalisation is to be arrived at, why is English
the language of choice in achieving it?
              it's not a minority language, that's for sure...
the most poker-laden expression? sure, it is...
but i thought that within a framework of globalisation
(as Napoleon said): if a man speaks two tongues
the first head of the hydra is cut, and two emerge,
hence            the ambiguity of god
      and the proud expression of lizards
and their spies (cats) and why the first letter of
the tetragrammaton is shaped as      Y....
          hence the ambiguity of god and his Machiavelli
in terms of whether there is a world beyond this
one, and whether that diabolical Machiavelli (in all
his despair) did so on purpose to show god the sifting
process...
                    yes, that face of the marine iguana:
smiles like a cat,
              sitting proud on the rocky beach...
yet it has unfamiliar mammalian eyes instead of
those slit-eyes of noon akin to serpents and cats...
            and as Machiavelli said: first time round was great,
second time round: i just don't understand why your
first incentive is somehow better?
        they simply can't know if the first version
is better than their own...
         got to feed them the knowledge of nothing,
so at least they can better what they're been given...
as did Milton, make him less of the two evils...
   what with inhospitable earth and the dream of
colonising mars... or as the history of stars suggests:
stellar evolution sort of does away with Darwinism...
Darwinism is the one form of paper that you
wipe your *** with... it's not a napkin for your mouth:
that ****'s for your ***.
                 at the centre so too iron: as in haemoglobin.
     and we never say stars in a constellation of stars:
those are white dwarfs...
                 is our stellar nebula origin to be resurrected
for a moment into a planetary nebula and then into
stellar ivory of the dwarf?
     personally i think we'll end up being a black hole
unless our right / left politics will lead us into ending
as a neutron... which can only be seen with subatomic
particle goggles... of when Mars and its two moons
housed all thing stable, we are at the stage of the dying
star: hence all our Apocalyptic thinking and bring together...
   Mars experienced the average / massive stage of
a star's life... it's the only planet that shares our common
thread of being solid rather than gaseous...
                    Mercury is equivalent of being the sun's moon
and not a planet if Plato is a declassified planet...
         that's my suspicion concerning u.f.o. sighting and
governments showing us the output of NASA
and then lying that they have this "capacity"...
    old Martians... after all: there were only volcanos on
earth, and then the dinosaurs...
      ******* about with time gets you into these
custard clots of: huh?! i didn't invent the Darwinistic
concept of history worthy noting, Darwinism invented
itself, it's just that after being popularising
the humanities' aspect of the theory came once
the science was debunked... which always sounds like:
see next year, after they told you i'd be
       using a chicken leg fibula for a toothpick:
oh sure, let's get together the Friday after that,
by then i'll be scratching one twig against another twig
to get the fire going...
             after that i'll let you wear my kneecaps for
prayer after that pagan harlot of a wife told me
it didn't rain because i wasn't a good enough ventriloquist
to her schizophrenia. i mean: **** just never stops!
the point is: multiculturalism failed because
  it created a toxic environment for language...
it didn't respect bilingualism...
         it respected bisexuality: isn't that the talk of the town?
all your home-grown terrorists? they only speak
a few words of Arabic... they have been harvesting
the toxicity of a multiculturalism that didn't deem
two language in man to be acceptable...
        and no one cared for the trade benefits?!
how the **** did they miss that sort of plus?
         surely if you're going to trade with the Chinese
you'd send a merchant to China who spoke Mandarin,
and not Swahili, right? common sense.
   if the multiculturalism of England embraced my
bilingualism, i'd be selling English crap in Poland
and perhaps vice-versus... but they said: nope, nadda,
n'ah... you schizoid... da' ****?!
               oh right, so i'm a slot machine or earnings or
those ******* farmers of the urban wheatfield of
thought that psychiatrists are?
   am i talking Dutch or something? me integrating
not good enough? a multicultural system that doesn't
respect bilingualism... deserves what history gives it;
and by now... i'm at Drury Lane: fanning the flames.

hello, i am manager Skip Hopper, here are your team rules for baseball. follow these rules and then follow the base line home

first you need a home plate
then you measure the space between the base
then we must put the base in the proper place

ok slugger, the players have rules
please stand for the national anthem of your country
after all, it is your country, even more so than corruption's country
look at all your fellow countrymen, who came to see you
that's your photo on a sports card, and your name in lights
those racists and haters are afraid of the lights
you must have a lot of power, please don't choke
only in the country that old stars and stripes flies over
would you even have a right to sit down when a nation stands
don't stand for the flag, stand for your right to choose
after all, is it not a signal from your brain that you follow?
you have more white people on your side than a lot of white people have

even if it is a white man signing your paycheck, it's all the more polar opposite of what is for some.
plus you think the kids want that white to sign a ball?
my team plays ball, and not politics
then my team shares with all races and colors
my team looks to win, on and off the field
welcome to team victory!

you'll bat first until you show me that home run capability

watch the ball and the pitcher
do what you have to do, even if you have to take a pitch to the arm
get to the first base, and lay claim to it
don't get attached to that base
a base is just a rest stop on the way to home
after today, we will no longer call it a base
think of it as a step on your front porch
calling it a base is like calling a baseball bat a baseball glove
now, the team is counting on you to get to first
then you have to count on your team to bring you home
this whole stadium is full of team members too
this whole league is on your team, in ways
the guy who makes the season schedule has a certain amount of teams
he must arrange the schedule according to us, and then do the hard part
math...
you know us dumb jocks can't do math, or much else really
that's why it's all about the numbers guys sometimes, too
why do you think we wear numbers
everything has to have a system to work properly
there may be some rules or players that you don't like

I don't like a 1st step, or 3rd step coach myself
after all, that's kind of undermining the manager
we don't need them looking over anyone's shoulder
that kind of **** even makes me nervous
i'm not the type of manager that looks over my team's shoulder

everyone wants a title...standing there just to tell you to go
that would be a fan
like i'm gonna just split my job three ways?
then hire people to stand on the steps of your porch?
and they're gonna tell you how to get home, when you are home?
i hired two guys who are into that "curling" crap
that is not a man's game
plus, why doesn't the guy with the broom sweep before the guy pushes that thing that is round
a puck maybe? it's not round, but i guess the circumference is a perfect circle
now a baseball, that is round
anyhow, i gave them their titles they wanted

head coach of ball scratching affairs
and head coach of spit buckets
it's so funny to see them be so serious about sweeping and ****
they concentrate so hard that i think they could scratch that spot on a player's *****
that spot that the players can't seem to scratch
who knows, i will tell head (ball boy) coach to look for *****
they're just like all canadians...innocent
i can't figure why a baseball team has a better flag though
a maple leaf? take off aaayyy

call everything by a sensible name

they call a rubber thing a base, and they call home a plate
see, a base is something you spend time on
a plate is something you clean twice during, and after a meal
well, on our team we try to keep the the next guy in line fed'
so, he is on your steps and it's as easy as handing him the plate
knowing you and your family have more than enough
knowing your fellow batters will hand you a plate when you're on their steps

remember, you don't follow the rules...
you step up to the plate, and the rules follow

it's really all about the fans

they are our world, and when our world does good
the cheers turn into waves and vibrations
like a fine machine, the sound becomes a hum
you can literally see the waves travel through the stadium

maybe this will catch on again

those waves travel beyond our world
just maybe some little green men will take notice
maybe they will respect us for how we make a diamond into a circle
or just maybe the world series will be known as the universal series
we could really use some competition

these other managers think they are so great
but one loss and they pinch their hitters and runners
then they try to change the rotation
you can't change a dang rotation without stopping
well, in our world, we have faith in the rotation
i also have faith in each player, and as our whole team
we are whole, keep that in mind always

that's why our team is called the country whole
plus, just naming it that, the whole country got tricked
they used to think we were tobacco spitting country boys
that positive energy really is like a snowball going downhill

our two head coaches love snow and hills
haha...everyone from canada is a comedian without trying
the great white north huh?
let's hear it for cheese curds and hat tricks
this is baseball and apple pie land
and by the way canada...

why aren't there any canadians on your major league baseball teams?
you make it hard to call it the world series
you also made ham and called it bacon

sorry slugger, sore spot...but anyhow

we all have a job to do, and doing it right is always a self win
counting on others, and trusting them to do their job, makes your job easier

there are a lot of rubber arms
they will be throwing all kinds of curves at you
only swing at pitches that are in your strike zone
never swing at breaking ***** and they can't break you

now, get out there and get a hit, walk, or home run
see you around the home slugger...know this

i guess my managing isn't needed here
i'm headed to club to watch in comfort
i don't know why people miss out on so much to be at the game
i'm a fan more than i am a manager
either way, we all know what's going to happen every time
we will extend our undefeated streak another game
like a fine oiled machine
making a perfect circle out of a diamond
while canadians scratch our ***** like fine oiled curlers
haha, scratching so seriously like that kills me

my team is awesome!

remember, this is not america's game
it's not baseball, and we know that
base and ball touch and you're out
then you'll run from a base and be shot by military police for going awol
just kidding slugger, tell the team i say hi and thanks for being on the team
i will tell the rest of the home team at that press conference *******

welcome to the big leagues kid

play ball!

take me out to the bar!

I was trapped lured into lie by a clever evil mastermind .
Lost in a strange land locked away in a basement guarded by some twisted hamster on steroids known as a kangaroo.

Sure I had been tricked by evil means by the mastermind known as Helen hey look she told me there was a huge **** down in the basement with tons of strippers and ******* who wouldn't fall for that? Duh everyone knows you never let strippers in the good part of your house .

So here I was living in the basement like some sad nerd who probably posts on a web site everyday thinking they are totally awesome cause they have five hundred followers when in reality they'd be lucky if they had even one human friend in real life.

What ?
I was talking  about one of those star wars nerd sites cause everyone knows I'd never bash a site like Hello that is ruled by a evil cult leader who moved to the states after collecting money under guise to help the site when in reality it was for his *** change .

Yeah Id never pick on someone like that .
Frankly I'm hurt you'd think that  I'm kidding and as long as I'm breathing I will always be your favorite ruthless ******* slash ****** with a heart of gold.

I sat there in my new cell wondering just what the hell I was to do all the while kangaroo jack kept his beady little eyes locked onto me .
Yeah I knew he was sitting there mentally ******* me with his eyes I felt so naked course id probably feel better if I actually put some clothes on.
Duh who wears clothes at a **** *******?
Had I known this was all a lure I would have kept my clothes on and kept my trusty **** whistle and not got into this mess to begin with.

I was ready to scream for help when all the sudden I herd a sound .
Muffled as it was still I herd it the kangaroo hopped as it approached me oh dear lord man I was far to fragile to be assaulted by this weird *** overgrown rat .

The sound was so strange it sounded like the men at work song land from down under but where the **** was it coming from!
The Kangaroo was getting far to close it leaned over into my face and being a true man I did what any other true man would do.

Began to cry and beg this ****** up gerbil not to **** me.
Answer the ******* phone mate.
It said to me as I was stunned .

Hey ******* answer the ******* phone .
It said again  incase your to high or didn't read it the first time .
You ******* talk and what ******* phone I asked trying to hold back the tears let me tell you these animals were known killers they were like Canadians on crack with incredibly strong legs yeah imagine what nickel back could do with powers like these those heartless ******* would be unstoppable .


I was lost naked and afraid minus the camera crew and some ***** chick who smelled really bad and ******* at me for not having great hunting skills why not call that show what millions of people wearing clothes call it .
Marriage yeah now there's some scary ****!

Look **** for brains snap out of hit .
The kangaroo said as it kicked me upside the head .
Answer the ******* phone so we can get on with this story you *******.

I swear those kangaroos really had a mouth on them who knew such cute looking standing rabbit could be such a *******.

Okay so where the hells the phone and never kick me again you got it!?
I have no clue where your furry foots been.
Up your grandmas *** mate and where else would I keep my phone in my ******* pouch .

Look You can insult me how ever you like Gerbil but I'm not putting my hand in that pouch besides that is the oldest trick in the book you know how many times I fell for that with grandpa ?

What?

This steroid fed mouse asked as it looked at me like all other people and some who read this might think.
What the **** is wrong with me?

Yeah that's a whole other write in itself .

Answer the ******* phone in my pouch now *******!
Umm no .
Why not ?
Cause I don't want to .
Look you ***** if  I had long enough arms I would do it but I cant okay
you know how ****** up it is to have arms this short now you know why the T Rex was the most ******* dinosaur of them all .

Yeah I had to admit my new friend slash captor had a point imagine being a total badass that cant ******* boy that's some ****** up **** but enough with the foreplay hamsters.

After some back and fourth  debate I against great protest reached in this hopping *******'s pouch and found a cell phone .

Hello ?
Well Gonzo how you like your new digs mate?
I knew that voice anywhere .

Helen !

My friend turned evil super villain explained to me her evil plan to keep me hostage and force me to co write for eternity in this basement guarded twenty four seven by Ursula her trained evil kangaroo henchwoman .

It was clear all hope was lost how could I ever escape the clutches of such twisted evil?
Then it occurred to me I would simply bust the window in the basement and get the **** out of here .

I had to act fast cause it's almost happy hour at the bar kids and this hamster is thirsty.
  
Hey Ursula I really got to use the bathroom .
Well go ahead mate the toilets in the corner .

Yeah but you know I really like my privacy you know I mean I tell you those burritos are really talking back if you know what I mean but hey if you can stand the smell be my guest I mean sure the oder alone will strip the paint off the walls but I'm sure after you pass out from the fumes you will be fine.

Fine you stupid ******* just make it quick Ursula said as she bounced her grouchy *** upstairs .

It was my only shot and thank God they had left a trusty boomerang around so I could bust the window to make my escape its almost like it was planned that way being I'm writing the story.
No **** Sherlock!

I was free as a bird if a bird had a really bad drinking problem and twisted sense of humor and was totally naked .
I looked to the front gates but there was no way I could escape that way barbwire and flesh didn't mix that well besides without there draw bridge down the crocodiles would eat me alive yeah these Aussies were total freaks .

So like some naked ninja I made my way around Helens Compound of evil making my way upstairs I slipped into a room in hopes of finding just where my clothes had been taken to.

Hey help me .
I herd a mans voice say as I flipped  on the light to find a horrific scene a strange man chained to the wall no wonder this evil woman was such a prolific writer .

Hey mate help me please get me out of here .
I knew this woman was evil but after some deep discussion I learned this poor man trapped in this upstairs *** dungeon was secretly her husband  I know how weird who has there *** dungeon upstairs ?

I don't know what I'm going to do I'm never getting out of here Gonz .
I unchained my knew friend after he told me he knew how to find a way out of here and after finding my clothes and grabbing my trusty case of bourbon we put on some music caught a killer buzz and totally forgot  why we were trying to escape the clutches of evil to begin with.

The party was great we laughed we cried we watched some really freaky homemade movies once only made me love my knew Aussie brother more Shawn was ******* awesome a bit of a freak but ******* awesome.

The party was going full swing when the doors few open and there she was my evil long lost sister Helen and her demented *** evil henchwoman  slash house pet kangaroo Ursula who although a animal had some great legs I have to admit .


The gigs up Gonz it's off to the basement with you forever !
I looked at my new best friend thought about how sad he was when I found him and thought of the great times we could have roaming the wasteland looking for gasoline like in mad max just being totally drunk instead.

Yeah then Helen yelled in her outside voice inside and bout made me **** myself so I said **** this and left my brother behind and hauled ***  

I made it to the kitchen but was trapped by Helen and her evil **** minion .

Give it up Gonz  Helen said .
At that moment I grabbed a knife .

Oh cut the crap Gonz stop being silly what are you going to do with that ?

She thought she had me but I had one last trick up my sleeve .

I opened the fridge and grabbed her trusty box of wine
You ******* don't you dare hurt my baby!

Yeah you want this back I said as walked forward and out of the kitchen towards the veranda .

You get back Helen or I swear the box of wine gets it.

Oh  yeah you stab that box then I will drop this fifth of your bourbon over the rail Helen said with that devilish look in her eyes.

You heartless ***** !
She dropped the bottle I swear it cried daddy as it fell to the ground shattering to a million pieces on the concreate beside the pool wow I had to admit she really had a nice place.

I mean sure she was twisted evil heartless had a awesome husband she kept in a upstairs *** dungeon but enough about Helens  good quality's  .

I looked as my pour bottle lay shattered upon the floor  .
I laughed you know that wasn't my only bottle .

I know that mate then reached to Ursula grabbing yet another bottle from her pouch dam you Australia why must you have so many ****** up animals in one place its like a zoo on crack.

Helen went to drop yet another bottle over the rail when I cracked.
Okay enough!
I will put your box of wine down just don't hurt the bottle okay .

Deal mate Helen replied .

We both slowly put are true passions in life down .
I'm glad you could see things my way Gonz now time for you to get writing .

Yeah Helen I don't think so I said pulling the trusty boomerang from a location I rather not disclose hey I been to prison before you be surprised the stuff people smuggle in.
Dam that hurt.!


I threw the boomerang with all my might this was my one truly  last chance at getting out of here.
But like some Aussie ninja Helen just ducked the thing  as  it flew past her head went flying around the house and turned direction coming straight towards me hitting me in the skull.

As I fell to my death music played as I took that long dramatic one story fall .
I hit the pavement like Lindsey Lohans career.

I laid there broken my new best friend speaking to me no gonz don't leave me we could have are own spinoff if only you didn't die .
Shawn my brother I will never forget you but I have just one last thing to say to you are you listening .

Yes mate I am.

And at that moment of dire sadness I ripped the biggest **** .
Shawn busted up laughing as above Helen looked at Ursula
Men are so ******* disgusting .

And later as they all sat looking down upon me from the veranda Helen furious at her man slaves betrayal told her partner in crime slash killer kangaroo .

Ursula go fetch the battery out of the car and the ****** clamps someone is going to be punished .
Shawn's face lit up with joy yay he exclaimed .
Helen shoot him a look .

I mean oh no such horror please don't torture me mistress   .
But hey don't judge them there not freaks there Australian.

Ursula shook her head as she made her way to fetch the car battery .
Jesus Christ why couldn't I have been Mel Gibson's pet.

Helen looked down one last time at her dead brothers body .
But to her surprise he was   gone .
The dramatic Halloween music played as Shawn looked to his evil temptress slash wife .

Mistress was that the boogeyman?

She slapped the **** outta him **** no its just that lovable perverted misspelling ***** across the water everyone calls Gonzo.

She shook her head and laughed to herself .
We will meet again my friend .


Until next time kids or Helen finds and actually kills
me stay crazy.

Gonz

By A Foreigner

I like Americans.
They are so unlike Canadians.
They do not take their policemen seriously.
They come to Montreal to drink.
Not to criticize.
They claim they won the war.
But they know at heart that they didn't.
They have such respect for Englishmen.
They like to live abroad.
They do not brag about how they take baths.
But they take them.
Their teeth are so good.
And they wear B.V.D.'s all the year round.
I wish they didn't brag about it.
They have the second best navy in the world.
But they never mention it.
They would like to have Henry Ford for president.
But they will not elect him.
They saw through Bill Bryan.
They have gotten tired of Billy Sunday.
Their men have such funny hair cuts.
They are hard to **** in on Europe.
They have been there once.
They produced Barney Google, Mutt and Jeff.
And Jiggs.
They do not hang lady murderers.
They put them in vaudeville.
They read the Saturday Evening Post
And believe in Santa Claus.
When they make money
They make a lot of money.
They are fine people.

The courtroom was more stiff than a old man on ******.

Half the room showed up from are small little town for lack of having that strange thing called a life.

The charges were tuff shoplifting caught on videotape.



All hopes looked grim and my best drinking buddy looked like he was heading to that iron bar rehab  

were the promise of no *****, No drugs,  No *** okay maybe Bone was already used to that one

well of course if you find hairy weight lifting fellons attractive and lets face girls who doesnt like Bad boys .

Well maybe then it wasnt all so bad.

No more sleeping on your stomach im just saying.



But enough with the foreplay.

It seemed all hope was lost but never fear cause when your friends with a half insane repeat offender

the **** can only get worse.



I busted through the doors like a half insane teenager going to worship the antichrist Justin Bieber.



Judge I will be repressenting the client .

Sir Are you even a lawyer?

Judge I assure you im a decorated attorney why i have my degree right here .



The naughty woman judge took the paper ever so forcefully from my hands mmm I wonder what she's wearing under that robe hey I dig chicks who are into the whole bedroom clothes in the public thing.

judge may I ask you something?

Looking at me in the way so many women have befor.

Like they dont know if they should use the pepper spray or just give me a swift kick in the no no zone.

The Judge said yes  but be brief ******.



Well have we met befor?

Yes we have ******* I sent you to maple for six months for fruad she replied in that stern

ive gotta gavel and a batman robe voice that just drove the boys wild or usally made them **** themselves like puppies on the new carpet.



Sir this degree looks bogus.

Your honor  why ever would you say that .

Cause its from F.U. Universty.

The strange mall cop in the court laughed  once made the judge shoot him a look like he wasnt getting any desert tonight after dinner im kidding besides he probaly doesnt even like desert

just ***.



Look Mr Gonzo im tired of this crap i hate life i sit on this hard *** seat everyday and if your fool of a client wants a fool  for a lawyer be my guest.



I walked back to sit next to dead man walking better known as Bone.



Gonz what the **** are you doing?

Dude i got this i watched the Lincon lawyer like five times last night this is gonna be a breeze.



The trail began the uptight party downer began speaking in big words talking how it was wrong to steal.

Your honor I ubject.

On what grounds?

Duh stealing is what the whole country is based on hey ever here of the indians look what we did to them.

Took there country forced them on thoose casinos and even made one join

the village people I mean really  Y.M.C.A  is but a cry for help that and a party song for most bars

were really nice old guys buy you drinks for no reason at all.

You mean gay bars you idiot!



The strange man at the other table said.

Sure there gay who wouldnt be happy wearing leather pants dancing  allnight long not that I did

I was just there looking for directions  and getting free drinks.



Order In the court! the judge shouted.



I looked to the strange man they called the prosecutor once sounded like a great name for a pro wrestler with being a lawyer as well no wonder this man was cranky.



Ha Ha your in trouble i said in such a grown up  way  with just a hint of village idiot.



Mr Gonzo one more outburst and im throwing you in jail right with your friend now zip it.

I checked but my pants were already zipped yes i knew she wanted me .





After as few good laughs from the courtroom.

We began speaking of all sorts of boring crap of right wrong  and on the verge of going into a coma.

The strange man called the prosecutor stood up your honor I pressent the evidence that will seal this case air tight.

The rent a cop wheeled out a tv kickass finally we can watch tv

hey i wonder is baywatch on?



Bone put his head in his hands just **** me now.



The prosecutor put in the tape.



The film was in black in white **** i hate student films.

Some man seemed to put  a steak in his pants  what a ******* everyone knows a salami looks more real

in  hung like a elephant freak show way yes size does matter.



After the student film the room was silent yeah must have bored them all to death like me.

What was hollywood thinking silent films were ****  duh we have speakers for a reason.



Mr Gonzo would you like to make a final plea.



Standing befor the room semi sober i took a deep long look around the room

Friends Romans  and Canadians I ask you  is it a crime to want to appear hung like a horse

yeah sure  we all wanna fit in okay maybe something that size would never fit well maybe in some freaky internet **** freak but really.



My client  stands acussed of buying beer and stealing a six dollar steak but  I ask.

Did he  steal or was this video tamppred with.

That SGi **** is everywhere okay and its destroying movies wow 3D movies there the newest thing that have been around since the eightees okay.

yeah I know thats like back in the depresion era.



I took a deep breath and knocked the the tv over ohh im sorry.

Well judge looks like no evidence no case wanna ditch this place go grab a few drinks

maybe find a room you can bring your gavel hey chicks who are into ***** stuff need love to.



The judge looked at me in what i can assume was a state of utter awww.





Later that evening.



See Bone I told you id solve everything .

You ******* idiot you got us both locked up.

Duh now you wont have to spend this whole time alone  sure your gonna be there a few months

and i'll be out in like two weeks but jesus you ungreatful ******* look all im giving up.



Besides everyone knows  i make the best toilet wine around hey one eye Winchel loved my last batch and he normally kills his cell mates.



Look it'll be like a sleep over in a place we cant leave or have any privacy how bad could it be?



Bone thought to himself yeah your write Gonzo

cause after i **** you they'll give me the electric chair for sure.

Yeah see wait a minute.



In the flash of a eye Bone's hand were wrapped around my throat ****** why didnt they let me bring my **** whistle.

As i was being choked to death I really had to wonder about are friendshi[p I swear you go all out for someone yeah ya get em sent up the river but duh it's the thought that counts.



Untill next time kids stay crazy and dont drop the soap

This is the game, set and matching end-piece to what is known as:

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/385266/poetry-round-find-your-self-within/

by way of an introduction....

T'is season to move forward,
back to old acquaintances renewed,
sand, water and salty sun,
three lifelong friends who,
Auld Lang Syne,
never ever forget me

I get drunk on their eternity,
their celestial beauty,
and they, upon my tarnished earthly being,
muse and are bemused

unreservedly and never judgingly,
share shards of inspiration unstintingly,
we share, never measuring
this captain's humanity, his human efficacy,
by mystical formulae of reads or hearts

grains of sand, water wave droplets and sun rays,
and his beloved words, derived there from,
all only know one measure...
immeasurable
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/699991/adieu-my-crew-my-crew/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Pilgrimage (Reunion)


at last to begin,
to begin the 'at last,'
this reunion occurs
this first day of June
where on my
body's flesh colored calendar,
X red-marked,
deeper than any real cut of despair


this morn, leave for familiar parts,
embarking 100 steps to that
Adirondack chair,
my name, my self,
(oh god at long last)
so often, long lovingly
revealed unto you


the garden's sundial welcomes me,
Prince, Guardian, of the gate to the green,
the green steppe way to bay and beach,
a brief song of "ring around the irises,"
blooming around him,
he issues,
to celebrate his own glory recalled,
his own purpled prosed long ago one ecrivez'd,
by having the third mate
ring the greened worn,
bronzed ship bell
upon conclusion of
his raising of the gate


shorts and T white hair shirt,
costume de rigueur
of this Peconic pilgrimage,
turban and baseball uncapped,
stepping humbly
toward that worn wood throne
where carved are
the initials of
my poetic friends,
and his vast modest,
Concordia of poetic essays


Those odd disordered
collection of aleph bets
that have been prepared for this hour,
are sun dappled,
breeze caressed,
wave watched,
a fresh redressing after a
dum hiems,
a long dark winter


all rise up welcoming with voices
tremulous yet oratory,
sing with a love so spectacular ,
Handel's Messiah Hallelujah Chorus,
au naturel


the armies of ants declare this a
Truce Day,
parading before me in formation,
the rabbits race
in elegant uniforms,
white tailed bemedaled, dress grays,
announcing their  showoff arrival
with a new across-the-lawn
land speed record


the dear **** deer,
familiar families and generational,
look upon this human and
grumble while chewing our shrubbery,
an act of sherwooded lawn high robbery
but perforce acknowledging our entrance,
by uttering a Balaam blessing/curse,
a neutralized
"****, they're back"


the seagulls on the dock,
sovereign state observers from
Montauk and the far island city,
sent by the mother winds superior,
observers and reporters to nature everywhere,
Summer Season of Man Has Begun


a few white wakes disturb the water's composure,
the early low arc'd sun has not peaked in strength,
at 10:00am, the temp just breaches 60 Fahrenheit,
the beach sand untrod, no unlasting human impressions,
no children's red pails yet to them decorate,
amidst the sea life's detritus and smooth licked pebbles


Enough.


each tree ring and grass blade demands a verse,
an all my own tributary accolade,
this too much to accommodate


a year ago I issued an invitation,
do so again for my word is my bond
my responsibilities, my *******,


there are chairs for all
on my righted round and my motet left,
here, there are
no Americans,
no Canadians,
no Aussies or Brits,
or Indians and Fillipinos,
no African or Asians present,
East nor West,
None Invited here,
Only Poets


even those hardy pioneer
West Coasters, a proud lot,
and my Southern family drawling,
and perhaps lessening the mourning
just a touch, a minute modicum,
all sit quiet in the admixture
of poets come to celebrate
the blessing to have been tasked,
to write from and of places we visit
in the cerebral,
and to imbibe each other's words


Three Hundred and Sixty Four Days ago,
I wrote :

We sit together in spirit, if not in body,
You join me in the Poet's Nook,
A few frayed and weathered Adirondack chairs
Overlooking the Peconic Bay,
Where inspiration glazes over the water,
And we drown happily in a sea of words...

I am exhausted.
So many gems (poets)
to decorate
My body, my soul

I must stop here,
So many of you have reached out,
none of you overlooked.

Overwhelmed, let us sit together now
And celebrate the silence that comes after the
Gasp, the sigh, that the words have taken from
Our selves, from within.

Once again, in your debt

Again,
I await your beckoning wave of hello,
greet you in your mellifluous native tongue,
iced drinks at the ready,
the opening ceremony already started,
when all are seats taken
we commence officially,
with a blessed

*"Now, let us begin"

Germans, love to be funny
German-English, love to be friends
Trinis, love to work hard
English, love to talk loud
Bajan, love to travel
Hmong-Americans, love to look classy
Korean-English, love to hangout
Koreans, look good in "gangsta"
Tobagonians, love to give gifts
Americans, love fresh vegetables
Chinese-Americans, love butter biscuits
Canadians, don't know that one guy
Kenyans, love Ethiopian food
Guineans, are the best Arabic teachers
Jordanians, love Kentucky Fried chicken
Brazilians, love Trinidad
Brazilian-Americans, have 5 kids
Puerto Ricans, love Ecuadorians
Ecuadorians, love Puerto Ricans
Peruvian-Americans, love concert piano

.english colonialism used to be passive-aggressive, english post-colonialism is a strange dynamic of former colonial nations playing the endgame of colonialism with non-affiliated nations of the british empire (affiliated by trade anyway, although not based upon origins of the ruling elite's extending arm), there's a hot topic in england between the irish and the polish, the irish are provoking the polish into racism so someone else can look smug with a pakistani friend on the london tube.

you know the amount of pain i see writing my father's
invoices of manual labour with the irish *****
apparently running
the show protecting northern
irish outputs of poetry and cigarette smuggling -
keeping us migrants "in check"?
god the loathing,
i try to improvise each invoice
with an excess knowledge
of the english tongue to break through,
but my sole considering comforter
is still death,
**** this *******, i rather die
than see my father's eyes eye me
hurtful hopeful of seeing my "bright new life"
when i was nearly murdered by
an egyptian school-friend / childhood friend
and later told: boy you better pretend you're
mad... boy my ***, your father is just
an x-ray technician... go back
to the northern africa of your
pretending to be a semite and build
another pyramid... *******, **** all of this,
days of casual pretentious squeaky clean
non-offensive poetry are over...
gentlemen - let's broaden our minds... swear a little
take up oaths with truth...
we were born to down a pint of concrete before
ireland was born, rushing out of pubs
when the call was made: concrete has arrived!
run, run run run! break legs and whatnot,
because in an irish pub talking to a homeless
person in akimbo giving him a cigarette
is cause for argument with an irish girl
trying to get, familiar;
unlike the sword, a stick has two ends...
you can smack someone with it,
but then someone can rebel and grasp the same
stick and smack you with it, for a suckling
taste of a kiss in memory of reprimanding manners.

- and i do remember the good stuff coming
out of h'america...
    i once owned a copy of blue valentine
by tom waits on c.d.: scratched that record
from over-playing it...
found a vinyl copy in the shop today...
splashed out a staggering £20 on it...
lucky for me the mp3 record comes free...
     £20 is a lot?
       well... better that £20 which played
in the background as i finished off decorating
the kitchen...
   rage 2 deluxe edition for ps4 -
      £44.99... so sure... i splashed out...
          thank god i'm not a gamer...
with games it's like with movies...
   notably? vikings season 1...
     i thought i could watch it a second time...
couldn't...
   a bit of a hit and miss...
    with games and movies...
      when the narrative gets exhausted...
and you're still honing in on the narrative
whether a passive spectstor or the role player
in the game...
but investing in an album?
       background background...
and an almost infinite array of the comeos
against the record...
   one cameo decorating a kitchen
another cameo finishing the day off with
some cider on a windowsill...
   but once upon: that's what h'america was
about... united we stand,
divided we fall... blah blah...
           and it looks like that right now...
the cultural export zenith peaked and it isn't
coming back...
   not for a while at least...
now we only look at not the united
         but the balkanized states of europe...
the states pulling at each other:
where once there was a cohesive collective
      export of pure cancan h'americana...
tom waits' blue valentine...
                          now i'll am getting
"culturally" is a bunch of vlogger content...
export of problems,
existential qualms without support on
existential pillars from continental thought
of 20th century europe...
   19th century doesn't count:
   not even nietzsche does: but kierkegaard
doesn't.

what are those lyrics from that vomito *****
song enemy of the state?
we shall send you, in ever increasing number:
ships, planes, tanks, guns: that is your purpose
and, our pledge... (1941 state of the union speech
sample)

most americans are not aware that soon
the primary export of our national economy
won't be cars, or food, or microwaves.
instead we'll be exporting death.
instead will be exporting death.

   perhaps, once upon a time...
now the export is quiet different,
   at its cultural zenith of exported values...
it would seem h'america choked on
a bitter pill... h'america no longer provides
the sort of culture worth exporting,
notably in cinema in music...
                               in literature...

the behemoth lost all of its juggernaut
momentum... and stumbled into rehashing old
ideas... it's not plagiarizm as such:
more a plagiarizm ex per se...

norman davies: god's playground -
   1795 to the present:

the Belweder is a palace in Warsaw...
(belvedere: a beautiful view)
constructed in 1660 -
  the White House in Washington D.C.
constructed in circa 1796...
by god, what a similarity!

   polish emigration to the u.s.a.:
in social terms their educational and communal
organizations are less effective than those of
the ukranians,
   in political terms their problems
command less notice than those of the blacks,
chicans or amerindians...
in the vicious world of the american ethnic jungle,
the 'stupid and ignorant Pole' is a standard
stereotype... once the noble lord...
reasons no doubt exist: like the irish and
the sicilians... the greatest influx came from
Galicia containing a large number of
the 'wretched refuse': people so oppressed
by poverty and near-starvation:
supressed linguistically, religiously...
the instinct of mere survival...
accepted the most degrading forms of employment...
exploitation: 'industrial *******'...
they were the gangers of the great american
railway age...
a canadian textbook can be cited
(j. s. wordsworth, strangers within our gates,
toronto 1972):
'it is hard to think of the people of this
nationality other than in that vague class of
undesirable citizens' -
   very much like to today:
   to think of canadians being a people
beloning to the making of mankind -
    without the canadian concept of mankind
being: peoplekind...
even woodrow wilson (then) prof. at prince-ton
deemed the Poles to be 'inferior'.

- but who was to ever to keep grudges...
grand torino - the movie, starring and directed
by clint eastie-boy-sparking-wood...
waldermar kowalski... dumb pollack...
why do poles no integrate within a community
bias as such?
                   the proverb:
if you want to succeed within a framework
of immigration: steer away from your
fellow countrymen...

                     almost all other cultures that
come, but the host's nitty-picky:
oh look at our asian labradors...
why can't you lick our ***** like they can?
etc. one example out of the many...
some people, i guess: prefer to be in
the background...
post-colonial powers need tokens...
akin to a sadiq khan:
papa was an immigrant bus-driver -
quick step up from daddy being a bus driver
to the position of mayor of london...
browny points!

the english are smug like this:
you hear even today -
WE WON'T BE SORRY FOR OUR
FATHER'S AND FOREFATHER'S SINS...
not for our colonial past...
they say that consciously -
but subconsciously they are scoring
brownie points...
        i can't say they're doing this
unconsciously: since if they were:
there would be a unanimous concensus
and no: "diversity is our strength"
agenda...

             besides... you can't exactly
conquer an island...
the norman conquest of 1066? it wasn't really
a conquest: for a conquest to actually take
place you'd require the native population
to be displaced / replaced by the invading
force - akin to the saxon invasion...
'don't touch, their, women...
we don't breed with these people...
what sort of people would you think
that would breed? weak people... half people'
(king Cerdic from the film king arthur 2004)...
proof being?
when the normans invaded and "conquered"...
they simply replaced the ruling saxon elite...
hence? the domesday book...
the ruling elites were being replaced
and the new ruling elites wanted to have
an account of who they were going to rule...
it was less a conquest and more:
a change of guard... since...
            the locals were first investigated
and subsequently left to their own devices...
there was no conquest:
               as such...
                but you can get on with your
day-to-day life on an island with natural
fortifications (the ******* sea)...
and produce your little whizz-kids down
the years...
   but imagine being squeezed by:
prussia... russia, the ottomans,
                  the mongols...
                             the swedes...
                and subsequently by the austro-hungarians...
matka królów (the mother of kings),
i.e.: Elisabeth von Habsburg...

   in conclusion... oh to hell with the whole
"incel" label... you have to pay for something
in the end... why not skip the *******'s worth
of pleasantries: the dating masquerade
and not get into the nitty-gritty with a *******
in one smooth stroke of a count worth an hour?
no hard-on shyness that way...
no ****-teasing...
whatever is an erectile dysfunction outside
of the brothel... doesn't seem to bother
whittle wichy while in a brothel...
so go figure...
                and relating to the stories of incels...
hmm... maybe it's the fickle women...
last time i checked...
i picked up a thai bisexual in a park,
a random stranger...
                took her home,
some beer, some jazz...
                  ****** her in the garden...
        i don't even think it's the case of
"i can't get laid" with these incels...
     english women: nuns on the outside...
latex gimp suited **** black boot licking
*** fiends in the bedroom...
   the madonna-***** complex...
the only aspect of Freud that resonates with me...

you know what, never mind...
      i'm just happy i collect vinyls...
free mp3 copy to boot...
and instead of spending 40+ quid on a game
that will become exhausted after one sitting /
completion (these are not arcade games,
nor are they the "free" new wave of games,
the ones where you play "superior"
opponents with a handicap -
since you didn't pay any in-game updates,
patience is a virtue,
   and someone people invest real money
into these games, but are still **** at them,
plus, these new wave games never really end...
i'll be dead and i won't be able to finish them,
added bonus? there's no NPC dimension
to them, added strategy: with a complete loss
of narrative / story-telling, genius!)
plus... how much does a vinyl player cost?
you can get one for under 70 quid...
sometimes vinyl bargains: under a tenner...
this one though, for 20 quid...
1 vinyl worth 20 quid once every two months?
oh yeah... i really splashed out on this one!

woman is a grand idea though...
    there is so much of woman i would be able
to love, if only the practicality of woman
wouldn't be associated...
alas: reality bites...
                       regrets...
                                  aged 33 and i feel as if...
i have managed a good enough sample
where both sexes can coexist within the confines
of me entertaining them:
as if they were to never meet and "preserve"
the "fate" of "humanity"...
      i'm pretty sure there are plenty of people
who have been bullied into this trap
associated with the otherwise "intelligent"
dodo mentality...
                          besides, i'm about to find out,
whether or not, they sell liter bottles of whiskey...
using my braille tally:

            ⠁ ⠃ ⠇ ⠧ ⠷ (⠿)
            1  2  3   4  5  (6)
             a  b  l   v  à  (é)

                        from what i drank yesterday
for that lullaby... i'm starting to supect that:
what they label as a liter... is actually more -

    if after ⠷⠻ ⠷⠻ (i.e. 50ml  20x) i'm not left
with an empty bottle... well then i'm not left
with an empty bottle.

Knotts Island  10:oo pm wedsday Feb  9   2011

It was like any other night spent at the doctors office slash
Dr Jerry's trailer.
Drink fine deep conversation about world events and *******.

I had went to the porch for some  introspection  and to take a ****.
Dear Lord Man!
What I saw was proof i had done way to many drugs and slipped yet into another rambling state of Gonzo.

White  powder covered the ground  it was a gift from Jesus or Elvis really   whats the diffrence?
Hunk a hunk burning  clap  it was pouring ******* from the sky !
I burst through the door like Lindsy Lohan fresh outta rehab

Jerry !  
Gonzo!  
Jerry!
Gonzo!
What are we yelling about Jerry?

I dont know but zip your pants up.
I know your a **** but I dont need to see it as proof.
Jerry a doctor a fellow brother of Gonzo
and true deep thinker.

****** man what was i gonna say i really need to lay off
the drink *******  Dr Pepper.
Well smack my **** and paint me purple and sell me to the Canadians.
dont ask.

Jerry good lord man look  outside its a true miricle.
Now only if it would rain strippers and wild turkey.
That would really be proof the easter bunny existed!

Jerry shaking his head for he knew his drugged out mental asylum bound  friend with a heart of gold or at least bronz  needed some alone
time in a padded cell looked out the window.

See i told you !
It's ******* snow Gonz ya *****.
snow what the hell's that I thought to myself while speaking
out load on a poetry site   where people think what the **** is wrong with him.

****** I should go outside more than once a year.
these seasons really throw me off like Skeeter  on
a cold night.
****** i told you  not untill you pay for last time ******!

She was a true lady just wish she took credit.
After a breif explanation time travel and where babies come from.
Dr Jerry returned to his favorite hobby surffing facebook
for underage *****  hey dont judge  how do ya think i met my wife?

Yeah man look at this one amigo sent me a friends request.
Jerry showed me a pic of a hot looking chick
and being she was good looking and talking to Jerry ment either
two things.

One the Gonzo On facebook page was down due to such high traffic
cause im super awsome.
Dork  you got like 14 friends.
Jerry went back to looking at the computer screen.
ha ha ha ha ha *** not funny.
Cyberperve!
I know you are but what am I?!

****** man he always get's me with his mature 40 something living
in his grandmas back yard  logic oh snap girlfriend.

Or Two  this little monkey  was really a ****** or a mormon
whats  the diffrence but enough with the foreplay children.
Jerry sat deep in thought and four **** hits and ten shots of turkey later sat the puzzled.

Amigo what do i say to break the ice?

The lights dimmed  a voice from the heavens spoke or New Jersy
John Tesh  apeared from the closet  ****** man i thought i herd really boring music from there i thought the rat poisen would get him for sure.      
    
When thought's are blured and both hands are busy.
When you just cant seem to find the words to break the
ice to that hot little hamster across the net,

Take that extension cord from around your neck and get
head out the oven dam you Slyvia Plath.
Just call dah da da dah da or however it ****** goes
sorry i dont watch   super hero movies although
I need a pair of thoose tights.
IT'S A JOB FOR GONZO.

Move aside silly girl I'll break the ice for you!
Umm  no Gonz thats okay Jerry replyed in that no
but it means  yes seductive five packs of cigs a day
sandpaper voice of his.

Trust me Jerry  Im a writer and i know how to
talk to the ladies  yes my friend how they do love Gonzo
Oh they pull out there pepper spray fire there guns
but inside they have a thirst for crazy.

No Gonz it's okay.
Dont mention it Jerry.
Gonz !
Jerry !
Gonz!
Jerry!
What the **** were we talking about and why the ****
are you in my lap!
Good question my friend but least your happy to see me.

At the keys the master or insane half wit began his
works of geinus this would break the ice for sure!

Dear Sarah

Wow all I can say is me likey.
And may I say that sweater really brings out your *******.
We should get togather and  talk  bout  things
while naked in bed to bare are souls.

Something about me.
My name is Jerry im  superbadass hells yeah.
I like drinking other peoples beer i can bench like a
thousand pounds.

I have a big   tv. What get your mind outta the gutter!
Lets drop the small talk you know ya want it why fight it.
Let that inner tigress out meow kitty  
Lets get naugthy and do things to make us both
purr in the litter box.

Kisses Dr Jerry   giggles and a gay *** emicon,
xoxoxo.

Yeah I know what your saying no wonder im such a ****.
And no wonder i have to pay for *** and im always alone.

After some mock tears and a snuggle   we waited for I know a
turned on little nymphs  reply.

Hey Kids it's  time to play are favorite snow game.
car surffing  in the blizzard cause im a drunken idiot
okay that kinda hurt.

Driving around the mean streets of KI  hopping officer
Rutherford was off duty or searching some drunk woman
looking for  some goodies hey I wonder where my sister is?

We at the rip roaring speed of 10 miles a hour What ?!
Hey saftey first that and the snow made it really hard for Jerry to hold onto the roof and pass the bottle.

We laughed we cried we lit are farts and made a beautiful
snow sculpture of two snow people getting freaky right in the middle of the road  hey kids blame it on the Beatles.

After we took out a few mail boxes stole a few garden gnomes
And taught a jaded soul how to love agian  we were
back at the office slash trailer in jerry's grandmas backyard
yes to think he's really come a long way since the tent.

By the warmth of the fire  music and fine drink to
match are deep conversation.

Hey dude ya think think that extenze stuff really works?
And if so if you took a lifetime supply  could you answer the door without getting outta bed?.      
        
The knock at the door was sudden.
****** man I knew it! Snow monkeys hide the
penut butter  and  put on some Kenny G!
Hey **** Kenny G  
Dam you John Tesh Go back into the closet where you belong!

Jerry looked at me as he usally does.
Like this ******* really needs some shock treatment.
Talk about a charge.

After Jerry assured me it wasnt the artic monkey's come to take there revenge   and promised to read me a bed time story what!
I have a inner child oh was starved of kickass stories.
Like Jack And The Beanstalk ,Catcher And The Rye,Or Debbie Does Dallas.

I opened the door to see a  large angry looking man
with a axe in his hand hmm dam lumber jacks  there always
on the job.

Are you the perve that wrote my 13 year old daughter that perverted
email on facebook?

Oh no im Gonzo im the other pervert who writes really long rambling stories on a a poetry website that arent really poetry
or very good,And drinks alot and doesnt make much sense

Yet always bring a laugh to demented people across the globe
cause yeah im super bad ***...

The man stood unfazed gritting his teeeth *******
me with his eyes hey it's cold okay.

Uhh no sir that's the perve your looking for over there
looking at your daughters pics hey ****** man we have
company  stop that.

I made my exit to the sound of screams it was like
a pit bull was latched onto a girl scout the agony    
Well looks like things were off to a good start Jerry was already meeting Sarahs  parent.

No need to thank me  Jerry
Remember kids if ya need a little help in time of need.
Look no further than Gonzo.

Slower than a fast moving virus.
He can leap small dwarfs and some short big girls in a single bound
kinda.

Gonzo fly's  of into the night in a epic soon to be forgotten.
B movie moment.
Stay Crazy.

Look Im flying.  **** tree!

Splat , Crash, Boom  Ouch Shitfire And Flying Monkeys
Next time I'll take a cab.

Adios Amigo's

I was drinking at the Legion

The place wasn't really busy

But there was one man at a table

Who made me really dizzy

He was waving all around the room

He was really in a zone

The funny thing about it

He was sitting all alone

He spoke in quiet whispers

And he heard silent replies

From chairs that sat there empty

He heard their mournful cries

He had a beer before him

But he never left his chair

And no one sat beside him

It's just like he wasn't there

So, I went about my business

Playing darts and shooting pool

Buying tickets for the meat draws

Watching young ones acting cool

The other active members

Who'd spent some time in battle

Always checked to see his beer was full

As he sat there spouting prattle

It's unwritten at the Legion

You never ask about the war

You just revel in their company

That's what the place is for

There's veterans who'll tell stories

Of years gone bye and bye

But, you never ask a question

"Did you see somebody die?"

The Actives know their station

The young ones though do not

It's because of all the Actives

They've got all that they've got

As time went on I wondered

The story of this man

So , I went and asked the barkeep

He said "I'll tell you what I can"

He served two brews and wiped a glass

He stood flashing a smile

"You'd better grab a chair my boy"

"This here might take a while"

I sat and listened as he talked

About this man distressed

He told me "His name's Harold"

"And you can say his mind is messed"

"I've been working here for twenty years

And he's been here twice that

He's never moved from that **** chair

That's where Harold's always sat"

He got up once to fill a glass

And then came back to me

"When I came here, I had just got home

"I'd been fighting overseas"

"From what I heard at first" he said

"Harold's always been that way"

"And as you can see from watching"

"He'll always stay that way"

"He's lost inside his mind you know

To June 6  in forty four"

"We both know that as D-Day

"But he knows it as more"

"It was Juno Beach from what I've told

he landed with his squad

Over 14,000 Canadians

And now most lie with God"

I then got up and went outside

I said "I need a break"

I went out for a cigarette

For this tale had made me shake

I went back in, got two more beers

And sat right down again

"His whole platoon went down that day

They'd lost 3,000 men"

"There was Harold and 300

"others who survived"

"But living life inside their heads"

"I think they'd wished they'd died"

"He lives with Jean, his sister"She's been there all his life

"She put her life on hold for him

"She's never been a wife"

"She pays me for his beer every month

"And says to keep some for me

"But a penny's never crossed my bar

"You see ...Old Harold drinks for free"

"I give her money now and then

"I say he won a draw"

"Just for showing up each day I say

"just that and nothing more"

I went and grabbed a bar rag

And I wiped my teary eyes

I then paid for my drinks and

I left fifty bucks besides

He said your bill's eight fifty

What's all the extra for?

I said that he could keep it

Or just put it in his draw

He nodded and he smiled

And I left the bar for home

And as I left I watched poor Harold

On Juno Beach, his mind, his home

I came back three months later

And I saw no Harold there

There was now an empty table

And now, four empty chairs

"Dear God, it's you"....the barkeep said

"Grab your coat, come with me"

"Harold died on Saturday"

"And his funeral's at three"

He died a war time hero

But still a prisoner all the same

And down at our old Legion

Very few knew Harold's name

When we got out to the gravesite

I expected to see more

But there was just Old Harold's sister

The priest and us two...made it four.

We said a prayer, and sang a Hymn

He was back with his Platoon

He was back on Juno Beach again

Where his life ended that June

It's a shame that no one came out

To see him on his way

But, there'll be me and Bill the barkeep

Every year and on this day.

Saturday's

Why are they so important?

Why do they mean so much?

Last Saturday I was at a bar talking to Canadians at a bachelor party--one of which bought me drinks all night and wanted to makeout with me.

The Saturday before that I went out with some friends I hadn't seen in a long time.

And before that, I went out with my friends to this area that had so many bars filled with people who drank themselves into stupors--kind of like I did the Saturday before that one.

I was dumped. So I drank--a lot I drank. That Saturday was a mess.

But tonight is Saturday and I didn't want to do anything, yet I felt like I should. So I did. I went to a friend's house to drink, but I didn't go out. I felt tipsy, I felt surrounded by friends, but I also felt sad.

He was out. He was happy. And he definitely was probably not sad.

But I was.

It's funny how break ups work--they make you question even the smallest things, like the purpose of Saturday's, ya know?

I was celebrating as normal I'm not sure why besides oh yeah duh I'm the most awesome writer in the history of this site .
The bar was empty as usual the old crowd had been abducted by aliens and replaced by children whom seemed to believe I truly gave a **** that there five day relationship had just fallen apart yeah live on your own bust your *** to exist then tell me how ******* hard life is okay kiddies.

It came through the wire a message that read.
Dear Gonzo I just read your recent co write and wow was I impressed
It's so great to see established writers giving new writers like yourself a break.

It appears this juvenile hamster had smoked a little to many bath salts today for they had no clue as who my ego fed **** was how dare they.
Yes kids isn't it a shame when all the kick *** drugs were discovered by your grandparents ?

Look don't reinvent the wheel if it gets you ****** up stick with the **** that hopefully doesn't make you trip ***** and lock yourself in a closet with a butcher knife .
That's why I stick with the mild stuff like herion.

I was just about to write this writer wanna be a long and thoughtful response telling them in a mature way to go **** themselves when yet another message came in .

Hey Gonzo loved your co write I always wanted to co write with a true writer any chance you could ask Helen if she would write one with me ?

Dear lord man these kids were higher than Justin bieber's  over inflated ego yeah he's going to put out a new album yeah you been warned .
.
Another message came in in one after the other it was like I was driving a ******* ice cream truck on a hot summer day every bed wetter and ****** picker running down behind me with there snotty little dollars clutched in hand didn't these children know I hate kids .

Well all except for barley legal hot ***** with low self esteem cause I truly love helping misguided ****** yeah I know I'm such a thoughtful ******* aren't I?

I couldn't take it I slammed the laptop shut and turned up the jukebox as I poured myself a stiff drink .
At least here at the bar I could escape this insanity .
But the nightmare was far from over .

As I herd the squeal of airbrakes as a school bus came to a stop outside the bar ****** I was being invaded **** why hadn't I infested in those rabid coyotes Lilly Mae  had tried to sell me .

The little ***** hit the door like invaders across are unguarded boarders yeah do you know how many millions of those ******* Canadians slip through every day .
Yeah if only we had snipers then we never would had to listen to Nickleback.

They jumped on the pool table laughed played and really started to **** my buzz as they played there modern crap they called music .
It was like being ***** by a ****** clown and the rest of his fifty buddies that could fit in one car I swear those  *******  can pack a car better than any Mexican I've ever known and for my fellow Latino friends out there I truly meant no disrespect please don't stab me or bounce up and down on my skull with your low rider  .


Hey Gonzo the leader of this dwarf cult spoke up we want a co write with you.
Um like hell I will Frodo just take your sawed off *** and return back to the shire  okay.

**** that stupid lord of the rings joke dork don't you know harry potter is the in thing *******.
The little man had said a mouthful there and being he was a Harry Potter fan I could tell he was probably used to having his mouth full of assorted things like his nerd friends magic staff .

Look sparky or ******* or whatever the hell you name is note to anyone if you don't have *******  I probably wont care what your name is .

I truly hate kids okay and there's nothing in this world that would make me ever write anything with you so just carry your *** cause I'm sure you are missing out on some kickass time to sulk in your room that is more furnished than my entire house and post your bleeding heart sonnet all over your ex girlfriends face book wall alright.


Okay the little hamster replied .
You know Gonzo I'm real sorry you feel that way cause I was going to overlook the fact that you offered me and my friends ***** and tried to get my underage sister to flash her ******* .

It's a real shame I hate to see such a talented co writer go to waste sitting in prison but you don't want to co write with us so I fully understand .

I couldn't believe this little **** was going to blackmail me it almost brought a tear to my eye how demented he truly was .
Reminds me of myself at that age when I blackmailed my sitter into showing me her ******* ahh the preciouses memories .    

I weighed my options co write masterworks of true demented genius or play basketball with guys who had been in so long that they let me win cause I was a hot ***** .

Hmm I had to ponder that one cause I never was very good at basketball duh I'm white and slightly bad humored with racist jokes that if do offend get over yourself it's called a ******* joke okay.


Okay sparky you got yourself a cowriter but can I ask one thing first?
Sure Gonzo shoot.
Well being that I was going to be falsely accused of seeing your sisters ******* maybe I could actually see them?


I don't have a sister you perve I just said that to trap you into co writing for us and finish this stupid *** write cause it's drinking time and I got places to be people.


Until next time hamsters stay crazy Gonzo.

HR Mgr:  So, Amber, you're applying for the file clerk position?
App: "Yea."(Keeps brushing her hair off of her right eyebrow)
HR: "You didn't fill in the space for your last name. Does Amber
         have a last name?"
App: "Yea."(giggle). "Dexterous."
HR: "Amber Dexterous, interesting." and you say your former job
         was "entertainment dancing."  
App: "Yea."(Brush-brush!)
HR: "Poetry in motion, I'm sure." "Amber, are you a stripper?"
App: "I'm not a "Strip-AH! I'm a Dan-SAH!"
HR: "Okay, okay! So, do you use poles in your dance routines?"
App: "Nooooo, I don't do thaaa't. But, I do like the Canadians!"


copyright: richard riddle February 14, 2015

orange juice and a rabid flight
of love for you but not the kind
of love requiring either bent
over the counter. the kind
of love where what is one
is alls'. is everyones', is
everything and there is never
one - either side - going wanting
for our emotions shared are
those mutually lost in the greater
mass of what humanity has
culled into their concept of
social awareness and some
chick ranting about the collective
consciousness. they're evil, or so
told. and onward, always forward
but never straight to remember
a perpetual motion of the hands
controlled by the soul -
that's what's called the mind these days.
forgone, for a single word,
far gone and lost in the wind with
sails ripping from the flushed canvas
swollen by the trade winds -
not those trade winds, but ours.
our conversation and appreciation,
and this allegory - metaphor more likely -
is of the soul being the true vessel
when the vessel is the last vessel,
and to please the dying vessel,
repeat in infinity this ******* cycle
of Samsara. en eternal vessel of meat
ground fine to be filtered through
silicone. this is our ship, this spurned
burger of muscles that succumbs
to parasites finding us pork.
eat the ****, gain the trich unlike caring
Canadians who destroyed the
pig in them. destroyed the mentality of
what is wrong but quit? why ever try
for greater, and learning is not an
end to a means. and again the souls
vessel - allegorized Ulysses proper -
is in metaphor a ship, breath the trade
winds and wisdom precious cargo.
the null are bandits, the haired beast
of both the North and South . .
barbarous action through organization
and labeling of existence as A to B,
as A to Z, and realize that means
twenty-six is the end.

Canadians are
Supposed to be the kindest
Are they really though?

you just asked your enemy to hijack
the war in sexism
and extrovert it into religious acknowledgements
of purpose not bound by ethnicity,
how you solved the prize of waking the far right in me...
i’m staggering to compare or comprehend...
the LEHI...
we lost original islam in nag hammadi...
with the scrolls....
we forgot christianity... we tried to forge an awareness
that muhammad tried to prevent with islam
of honour lost in the sacrifice of femininity to masculine endeavour...
whatever that means...
my memories of paris?
my memories of paris are filled with canadians, talking about nabokov...
drinking wine, eating cheese on baguettes, and listening to two guys
playing bob sinclar’s love generation...
while the parisian girls congregated for a would-be-**** giving the monk
in tense... paraphrase...
cruelty to animals: precursor to world war iii... the war of sexism...
that is mingled with cold war ii...
soon enough the ******* will be our children
and we will not wish to father them...
with us only weakened by stating truth and her weakened by
stating lies...
under what legal obligation are two strangers
supposed to gratify an ugly woman’s pride
with man to cherish a child / children with the tribe / state law surfacing?
where’s the obligation of strangers to gratify
a *******?
we’ve become service societies... all the manly jobs are gone...
exported to china...
power brokers are women... and they’re not ready for house-husbands...
10,000 or how many years of evolution meant
that men became transgender... started sprouting ******* and ****
and fed the younglings with scientific placebo lactose:
win-win... we’re all all defending crumbs and dust architecture
of idealism and realism against the invading horde of revised islam
non-concurrent... some said the word mongolian... some said:
that’s the land where communism flourished and the pope took a ****...
now the west is going bankrupt trying to trotsky the rest as competitive...
no, wait... there’s the islamic model of no acquiring debt...
interest free dynamics... keep shylock in the poetic cage...
so if communism forcefully failed... imagine what anti-interest
islamism will do to the west... it will... simply.. destroy it;
you made communism an enemy and had a pivot-head to assault...
now you have islamic economics... and all you can think of, is, oink:
selling the formula 1 empire... great tactic shorty... great tactic;
i’d rather be a plumber in poland than a poet in england...
i’m no swiss... but my words are better than rolex when hanging to
a dangle of true; god i hate this place...
i’ll destroy it in whatever capacity i am capable of;
well the capacity of being drunk... the best assurance i am
akin to with not buying a kebab and doing the ***** tango.

HR Mgr:  So, Amber, you're applying for the file clerk position?
App: "Yea."(Keeps brushing her hair off of her right eyebrow)
HR: "You didn't fill in the space for your last name. Does Amber
         have a last name?"
App: "Yea."(giggle). "Dexterous."
HR: "Amber Dexterous, interesting." and you say your former job
         was "entertainment dancing."  
App: "Yea."(Brush-brush!)
HR: "Poetry in motion, I'm sure." "Amber, are you a stripper?"
App: "I'm not a "Strip-AH! I'm a Dan-SAH!"
HR: "Okay, okay! So, do you use poles in your dance routines?"
App: "Nooooo, but, I do like the Canadians!"


copyright: richard riddle February 14, 2015

I should apologize for the "wordplay", but I won't! This piece was written for entertainment purposes only, and any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

About time,
I've paid my dues I've crossed the line,
This moment I thought would never come,
Is in my grasp, the deed now done.

Don't get me wrong, I loved my Mum,
But all that passed would surely stun
Even a saint or the Lord above,
So tiring being an aimless dove.

Now I'm ready to take the world by storm,
Show them my worth, no longer act forlorn,
The wife I always wanted by my side,
I can finally get into my Kingly stride.

The Little ****** that remains,
Harry's willful character that pains,
I've summoned experts to hear what they might say
To finally obtain a sample of his mysterious DNA.

I'm not claiming he's not mine,
But as Americans would shout, ‘I wouldn't bet a dime’,
Thank goodness I've got my other boy,
A stand-up chap that brings me nothing but pure joy.

As to Camilla, my soulmate from the start,
From whom they never could tear me far apart,
She now stands by me as my Queen,
You saw me beam with joy like a lovestruck teen.

Don't get me wrong,
I'm painfully aware my reign may not be long,
But while I'm here, I plan to make my mark,
Understanding this job is no cakewalk in the park.

I've got the Aussies wanting to jump ship.
The Canadians on their own perennial trip,
The Scots plotting for a Clansman King,
And Parliament seeking me do next to nothing.

Yet I've got a plan,
Something that will surely stun,
Become a multimedia star,
And thus take them all across the bar.

I can jig, dance and sing,
Fly helicopters, do pretty much of anything,
Plant trees, help save our World
How can all of this be thought absurd.

Politicians just blow smoke,
Send their countries near flat broke,
I instead bring Billions in
Collecting smiles from wheresoever I have been.

That said let me enjoy my moment in the sun,
Reflecting on all that's been and done,
My resolve is firm, my duty clear,
My life's work is aimed at all, both far and near.

So rest easy, enjoy the ride,
Sailing smoothly on a flowing tide,
Over a thousand years in the making
My oath is one of giving and not taking.

South side bouncing in the low rider, why because we out of what is deemed normality going 95, and if you ain't rolling you are not one of our guys. Lets keep this simplified, this is real rap, it came from my pen and pad man, honest talk, I won't ever sell out man. South-side popping up and down, swaying side to side, we aint ashamed fam, this the real deal that we promise we'll never hide. Yeah, southern vibe, kicking it right, spitting fire, getting you caught up in a tangled wire, yeah we will never tire. Tripping, best keep your distance, cause in this very instance, I might just have you on my hit list, what is this, a game of chance? Nah man it's a game of change, bumping to a movement that is strange, in the rap game to provoke real change. I am not the same, please do not call me names, boy do not disturb that which has not been tamed. I am insane, your in my lane, stop thinking that we are the same, this is not a game, you couldn't handle my fame. Keep your distance, and i'll keep mine, have no clue where i'm going, i'm just following all the signs. Fast life, flashing lights, pulling over, and being a coloured man you know it's going to be a fight. ***** cops, misusing their power to beat us, what did we ever do to have them mistreat us. South-side, pain in the streets, government not doing nothing, and no one is willing to stand up on their feet. What can one man do, what can words really say, how can the minority have their way. Shady system, why is society so grey, and how did I get myself caught up in the fray. Swept off my feet, it's like life was Katrina, facing all these fiends, and I don't know if I can battle all these ravenous hyena's. Need a cleaner, feeling as helpless as a llama, just keep munching on a bunch of grass, man I can't wait to be done with all this melodrama. Free will, free speech, where are the Ghandi's and Martin Luther King's, maybe it's because people are to focused on tablet screens and buying shiny rings. This is not common, putting my self in the songs man, chilling out and munching on some ramen. Their is no controlling or consoling angered people who can't stand seeing more race issues brought up, you think this would've ended long ago but it's still blowing up. Rolling up, spilling up, the tension is growing, and i can no longer shut up. Dropping bodies, fentanyl getting put into drugs man, taking lives everywhere, where can i rally up a lobby. Hear ye, hear ye, I know things are looking dreary, and you may be get teary, but never the less we move forward and never fear what may be. It maybe what it is, so one day the south side may no longer be a place to live, strolling along wondering if their is a point to wanting to live. South side, can no longer escape life by getting high or drunk, before I can clean the world I must clean out my life's junk.  I want to be able to be adept at building up a community and a family one day, lord have mercy on us, not just for the south side, but for the world because we need some help today. Just the other day some cops shot an innocent black male named Alton Sterling, oh man it happened again, I thought they would have learned after ferguson but then again people still think Canadians live in igloo's, and I wonder about what the hell these kids are learning. I think these misconceptions must stop, staying ignorant will only lead people to keep on being killed and not every cop is a bad cop. So yes some po-po's can be brutal and should be kept in check, but they human to, i know it's not a good excuse but we should not be quick to give all them heck. Violence begets violence, doesn't solve anything man, it just creates more animosity and having innocents keep on dying, and I believe we can resolve it without meaningless busting because i said before it will only lead to more people crying. Authentic sounding south side, this is what I think about as i ride along, it's time to love and accept one another and then move on.

A place where people say goodmorn, and hum a happy tune.
Where neighbors say this rain is bad, i hope it gets nice soon.
A place where you can find the streets, and know which bus to take.
Yes every city has it's down's, but people here arent fake.
They may be mean and filled with greed but will always speak their mind.
And even in their shallow life, their heart you can still find.
We make an honest living, and help our dying earth.
We treat eachother with respect cause we know the human worth.
We drink alot I will admit, but thats how Scotia goes.
Will even drink on our death bed, that's somethin' you all know.
We love the sea and we'd agree, that fishing is the ****.
A day upon the pretty rock while fishing is legit.
Im proud to be apart of this amazing ******* place,
and even some Canadians believe we're our own race.
But bottom line I'll call this home until my dying breath,
and even when it comes my time, im glad that here I'll rest.

Welcome to my programmed event
Here in the stadiums
That I built under my innocence
I've working on a new test,
A new subject

That subject is called her
I've been pulling
On a few of her strings
And tested her
To the limit of no return

Remember her?
Probably not
Because
She left that smile
In the waiting room
The one you saw
When You talked her
About Canadians waiting in line
You didn't realize
That I was a ticking time bomb
For her demise

The test are done
The lab is closed
And I am presenting a hypothesis
On how to break someones heart

Lets starts with if's and then's
If you scream ****** ******
Then you execute her buckets
That hold liquid pain
If you look closer
You will see that the patient
Will quiver due to her soul
Being electrocuted
From the shock therapy
That my words
Joyfully give off.

If you you repeat stuff
Then the patient's oils
Will leak off the face
Leaving the hollow,
Evacuated soul
Searching for survivors
In the damaged hearts

If you take her for granted
Then you will be alone
No one to watch movies with you
On a Friday night
No one to make you realize
How lucky you are

If you are alone
Then the oils
Will leak off your face
Leaving the hollow,
Evacuated soul
Searching for survivors
In the damaged hearts

oh, what glorious things the canadians and americans think of the british, in their set narrative when a tragedy plagues these isles; mainly stressing the british concept of tolerance. well... perhaps the morbid politeness toward muslims, that the hindus didn't get, back in the 1960s? hmm... or the bourgeois media class... with their affectionate portrayal eastern european builders... well... **** me, are all my brethren builders? we all seem to be builders all of a sudden, like that's something to demean people of skill. you know how degenerate english builders are? how unskillful they are, in the roofing trade? my father can show me roofers with 20 years worth of "experience", and the photographs are worth a good long pause, and lament... they were changing the tiles on my roof, and one night, with heavy rain pouring down, water was seeping through my ceiling... scots were known to be the best roofers in the 1990s... replaced by poles.

anyway, talk of graphemes...
   polish has, in all honesty,
         four potentials to become graphemes,
i don't know how, but they could become
unique script elements...
         alas
          sz       cz        rz            dz
are in their own category, distinct from
  the category of grapheme...
                        it's almost a shame,
               the four being *digraphs...
   oh... and you know that there's a trigraph
in the english language?
             you know it, i'm sure...
                                                     y = why,
but no one will tell you that that is a trigraph,
even the dictionary won't tell you it's a trigraph,
it'll tell you why is either an adverb and exclamation
or a noun... but never that it's also a trigraph
         of what is also a monograph, represented by
y... and perhaps, just perhaps,
               this is just one of those mysteries
worth excavating from the tombs of the tetragrammaton,
and set against a rosetta stone of the modern
era...                in what becomes of
    the hebrew serif י...
                                     perhaps, well, only possible
in english the trigraph         why...
          encompassed in the monograph that's y;
and that's only one h short to complete the equation.

Catawba, said the bird,
it grows like the mighty Canadians
and is perfect for teas
say what?
Like shrivled little ants on logs
the water left our bodies
sweat and evaporation
hard work made such events occur
toiling away
night and day
doing that **** we do
which is......
anyway.
One time I saw the sun come up
it sprang, so to speak
and on the peak of that afternoon
it fell down
but there was no moon
nope
just a blackness without stars
or light
just had to feel around with hands and sounds and smells
felt like an animal
heightend and feral
good time to be unseen
who knows what the birds would have thought
they were real animals
we were just the blinded re-enactors stumbling around
even though everything was as it had always been

Affluential/influential people say outlandish things that are meant to steer a gullible public. The late witch Margaret ****** started Planned Parenthood. Her insane ravings carry weight. Man doesn't know his origins but he's keen to philosophize, theorize and pontificate. There's no escaping the fact that Bob Dylan's unpleasant voice has forced many people into suicide.

a day a bit like sarah mclachlan's
thumbing toward ecstasy album,
not much too it...  some say frailty, some say the
plumbing,  some say apathy breeds no pathologies,
well, not musical enough for rhymes,
a vast vault opens, there's a piano
inside but no pianist -
let's say without education and training
in the art someone comes to the piano
and gets a natural feel for it,
feminine hands, anaemic and frail,
thin fingers, not something a labourer
could sustain his work with...
a poet became jealous of Liszt...
but no one became jealous of Chopin...
the japanese adore him more than
his fellow countrymen... after all, they
took his heart out and entombed it
saying: 'this is your place, this is our pride,
sit here, forever!'
horrid story, akin to the one where a president
in an unfortunate plane crash received
all the honours of a kingly burial in the Wawel (vavel)
castle... not in the cemetery for presidents,
perhaps near the Belvedere (the white house
of the east) - that skromny pałacyk -
an entombing procession of faithful people,
yet no crown in sight, simply a tie noose from
the political suit... and that's why a distant
voice almost wants to trip up on the question
whether there's democracy in that shady part
of the world... or as the canadians put it:
america and it's lollipop women - tartan tarts
of criss-crossing ventures back into adolescence
and opening up a macabre wardrobe -
we have the aces, they have but four queens -
the fifty five belgium sized countries in the
mid-west... open fields and tornadoes -
but these sort of moments do not come directly
from you - it's bound to happen
upon the plough of dried ink on page  525
of the LXXX... so many influenced J. Joyce,
T.S. Eliot...and his own work rather, crudely -
left to rot in the slaughterhouse,
an animal slaughtered for no reason other than
to hang and rot... sheered by neglect,
or the ad hominem principle not understood -
obstructed - a thousand black-shirts from
the Mussolini tribe left the world in lesser rags -
it takes a lot of patience to not see certain
pop-ups of words are directing, geographically
orientating in the mind - it's not an instruction
manual sometimes, there's no 4x screws of such
and such to put-together a table... sometimes
music takes over - and the sounds escape like
helium from balloons in an air-tight room -
one person in it, maybe two -
not necessarily an instruction manual, a worth
a copy manual - but still canto LXXVII or LXXVI
were overcome like his overcoming the
cage-cell he cited in at Pisa in the heat and
wet-donkey-slobbering of the snout -
they say it's all downhill after the escape from Pisa...
well... an intelligence in an asylum will hardly
make compliments on the matter, hence a second
return to the land of ice cream and Renaissance
painting galleries... where they craft a beauty from
stone like the mountains majestic... very few geometrics
were minded for the finishing touches -
they kept the buildings low on purpose,
not unlike the sky-scraping majestic but left with
a ² grid: ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢
               ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢
               ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢
               ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢
               ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢
               ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢
               ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢
               ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ▢ ,
where then the Roman Belshazzar? nowhere,
not even with the first roman-jewish war,
suckling up to the **** of Nero's oblivion in song
on the lyre while comparisons were made
between him and Casimir III of Poland -
in proverb:
zastał Polskę drewnianą, a zostawił murowaną -
after the great fire of 64 a.d. -
rome, rebuilt in stone and marble...
hardly a reason to claim equal the incident of
the Reichstag fire of 1933... only in remote places
where much harvest is to be done,
does a solitary house equate itself to a city -
we'll never mind the baker,
but we might as well mind the words:
                we have a pretty witty king,
                and whose word no man relies on,
                he never said a foolish thing,
                and never did a wise one -
after all, why not insult when no one recognises
the insult - for fear of being reminded
of the guillotine... no, the guillotine was yet to
be invented... imagine all the lumberjacks of
spiny bone having to desecrate an entire host
of de Pompadour all pampered - then suddenly
without wig or perfume on the scaffold.

Someone once burned down the White House!
Someone who was wearing a red blouse
The British claim it loudly
But others more proudly:
“We Canadians burned down the White House!”

In 1812 Congress declared war on Britain, thinking that the several provincial Canadas of that time (Canada did not become a Dominion until 1 July 1867) would be easily conquered and absorbed.   During the campaigns United States forces burned York (now Toronto), the capital of Upper Canada, and in 1814 regular British forces in their turn burned much of Washington. Apparently there were no Canadian militia units involved in torching our capital. Canadians claim the honor anyway, and since they were part of the British Empire, one can with a grain of salt and a cup of Tim Horton’s coffee admit their claim.

God bless Canada.  Let’s drop the tariffs and the passport requirements, apologize nicely for ill manners shown to this nation’s best friend, shake hands all ‘round, and go catch a Toronto Blue Jays game.

When the 'Canadians' return to the countryside in November ,
morning gaggles will fly right by my very window !
Off for a break on the banks of Port Lake , to rest a spell from their
arduous travel , to stretch their wings , collect their thoughts and get a few winks !
Up in the morning for a quick 'Dixie Breakfast' then back to the business
of travel along the river .. Cruising down the Chattahoochee with a brief rest stop in Columbus , then back to 'The Blue' , nonstop and bound for home in warm , serene Florida ...