a minor amnesia - nonetheless it happens,
there's another word for it...
skleroza: spontaneous forgetfulness...
this fickle creature that's memory...
thankfully i have a stash of about 5 major memories
that i like to revisit...
play them over and over in my head...
since... i'm not on the crux of death...
well... since i'm not...
i have become more prone to exercise
the freedom of memory than i might want
to watch a movie...
trouble comes when i'm not my own d.j.,
in a car... heading toward... ******* IKEA...
in Enfield... where the phlegmatic crew of
dodo are this close | | to learning the arithmetic
of time...
a song on the radio... Belinda Carlisle...
circle in the sand...
in between talking with my father...
                  nothing metaphorical about that...
- so you know how old bob marley was
when he died? 36...
- you think he would still be touring?
well... he wouldn't need the money...
**** jagger does it for the joy...
          
i can't write narratives...
it's not like we're estranged...
but... it's complicated...
i think this is one area of my life i will keep
off-limits when writing...
i can be as honest about ******
as i can be about horses...
the narrative never took place...
believe me...
we talked about a range of things...
morgage

then when we came home an hour
later than expected...
she (dearest mother)
was probably drinking alone...
throwing little tantrums of me and father
alone time...
well... not to mention he was absent
from the most crucial years of my life...
from 4 till 8...
how does the ugly side of immigration
look like? brain-drain...
we: the diaspora members...
away from the motherland...
for the "better life"...
i too am playing catch-up...
how did ol' Leo frame it?
every happy family is the same...
but every sad family is sad uniquely:
in it's own unique way...

   get Wittgenstein to sort this
tautology... i'm not going to bother...
come to think of it... it's not even
a tautology... a tautology would be more
focused on thesaurus rex...

we had a conversation about football
and music... re-mortgaging...
even Bowie remained true to music...
he probably didn't tour...
but still made new content...
singing about mortality and ****...
i think i'm having this playback moment
in my head...

but then this song came on the radio...
magic fm... belinda carlisle...
circle in the sand...
all of a sudden i had this urge to listen
to a song, that song reminded me off...
oh hell... exactly: what was it?
the search began with: 'the message'...
mc-****-fartery...
      round and round...
jokes aside... i had to listen to belinda's
song on earphones once more
before the "revelation"...

  it seems obvious... "now"...

nik ******* kershaw - the riddle...

exactly... how did i get "the message" wrong?
two strong arms... blessings of Babylon...
blah blah: toe-tying-riddle...
almost like good luck is expected...

come to "think" of it...
a revelation... even though there's that monotheistic
focus on the patriarch...
puppet... strings...
missing *******...
i'm having a hard time not thinking
that ha-shem... the nameless father of hey-zeus
and the ha-ha-mighty blah-lah-al
are not... primarily... feminine gods...
well... conjured up from a ****
rather than a working 'ed...

they're irrational... and can be reduced down
to... the three heads of Cerberus...
they are never really depicted...
worded sleuth pulp fiction harlequin traps...
most artists?
oh **** me... even the ****'ites would agree...
get your eyes to focus on something...
that's how much i dare to admire Islam...
from the ****'ite perspective...

what ******* topic is this?
i was about to pour myself another drink
and this thought like a blitzkrieg came
flushed from a ******* in the universe
where all the gods and nothings
congregate from indigestion and
constipation...
a ******* miracle: a diarrhoea moment...
of sorts...
the monotheistic veneer... of "patriarchy"...

what?! she wants a ring of gold
and my ******* too?
how about a tent's worth of a kippah
on my ******* tonsure?
a man would require a screwdriver...
a hammer... nails... screws...
it would make sense to have many
involved... than this pressure of solipsism...
vampire... succubus... leech...
a ****** hail mary...

**** speak...
                    so great... the technological advances...
atheistic secularism...
but there's a ******* grid-lock to mind too...
no a ****** dam...
a rich cognitive custard...
it's just that: a cognitive custard...
like Moses rekindling a belonging concept
along the lines of being lied to:

monotheism hardly serves man...
i can find appeals to the illusion it presents...
but... hardly...
looks like the "plenty of fish in the sea"
metaphor is drying up the concept
of a "catch"...

the conversation with my father are
off-limits in my purpose of writing in the first
place... unlike a Knausgaard...
i'm the drinker... he's the teetotaller...
he's the workhorse i'm the... chicken-scratcher:
if i had ink...
but i'm also probably ten beaks pecking
resounding at this... grand... oh my god...
******* piano of QWERTY...

genius idea... what?
qwerty... because the orthodox memory erosion
of the alphabet is of any use?
suddenly everything has to **** me off...
it has to be dipped in still water...
it has to be believable...
monotheism is concretely a religion
designated for the preservation of women...
why my *******?
oh... because if you don't have it...
i can... ******* at a leisurely pace?

that a woman can ******* without inhibitions...
while i have to be shamed?
*******, *******...
i don't even have enough slander to express
what my heart reacts to these days...
i don't have "hurt" feels...
i have... agitated feelings...
thank you for waking me up from my numb...
apathy...
but what do i hear? "hurt feels"...
****'s sake... those people don't even recognise
what feeling is supposed to feel like!
they're all french footballers... "hurt" all of a sudden...
wow! so...
"hurt" is translated into the parameters of:
feeling per se?
imagine my shock finding out that
apathy has dulled "i.q." to so little that...
you must be hurt to feel...
you can't be spontaneously agitated...
you must be hurt...

bring out the hot horseshoes...
let's have some fun branding these *******-waggling-
***** aside...

just wait for the breeders to wake up
to having children that turn into freely-arranged
agents of will...
i'm passing through a decade where there's
boasting...
but sooner rather than later...
there will be some hidden mention
of those... pickled-cabbage:
why do the 'indus find pickled cabbage
"funny"?
not eating beef sounds pretty funny...
or like that "proverb" from Morocco:
there's no water, in the desert...
then... what... the... ****... are... you...
"doing" in this, here... land of replenished
roots?!

******* camel jockeys...
what do "they" call them, proper?
sand-*******...
it would take a Bengladesi to get
smart notes on the caste "system"....
Aryan has no origin in Europe...
it probably originated in Indian when
they first came across Persians...
who are... oddly... "pale"...
but have not bartablondine aspects
of their ****** expressions...

ivory skinned like an Iranian or a ***-
without a suntan?
"you" wanted trenches...
here's my designated plot...
"you" wanted ******* to overshadow
real.. culprit-esque concerns...
the jealousy of a woman
knows not bounds...
most especially when a father-son
privacy is engaged with...

   if i ever encountered male jealousy...
it was always rare...
almost never...
         but female jealousy? anything...
everything to belittle the opposing "authority"...
ha-shem... the jealous deity of women...
blah-lah-al of...kept secrets stashed in the niqab...
allure of the ******* eyes...
come on...

****** ******* mary:
that matriarch of sold foetuses and
walking abortions...
at least there was something adventerous
in conceiving the existence of Loki...
of Thor...
there's nothing... original about the point
of monotheistic gods...
that there are three...
is Islam the truest of religions?!
they had a Sunni ****'ite schism... didn't they?
once again:
i want to believe in something:
to give me momentum...
give be a willing acceptance to excuse...
an overarching stressor of incredulity...
and a... "what life"?

well... existence is...
out of every instance: a persistence to:
instance... a persistence...
that's... existence... ex-
out of...
and stance...
dis-ease... a negation of ease...

there will be plenty more of those car
journey listening to magic fm...

an "original": whether mind, or thinker...
that mythology of evil that the Nazis provided...
******* Armani suits and boots...
or whoever designed them... Hugo Boss...
what are we left with,
to mind matters of collectivism?
the evil of censorship instigated by...
halfwits and ******* haemophiliacs?

a myth of evil that could be...
galvanised... momentum and emblem...
what's on offer... currently?
grey-suits and...
expectations: that it's the "21st century"
something magical is about to happen...
what's the difference between the 20th century
and the 18th century?
the 19th century...
so what's the difference between
a pebble, a cliff edge and a mountain?
don't know... a river? a lake?

that same **** different cover excuse
like some wonderful was going to happen
in the 21st century...
like there was a promise...
where is this **** coming from?!
oh yeah... but it's the 21st century...
i was hoping for gravity to ******* and turn all:
short-circuit awry...

i can pretend... for a while...
but after that while passes... i turn into a real mystery
of a door **** gone berserker...
are there these societal expectations
to simply **** **** the next...
blow the next... ******* origami of OXFAM
purple-fest whimpering "dead-doughnut":
although i'd cry... if it was a stray dog
from the streets of Seville...
******* camel-jockeys...

  it's not even a inhibited play on pronouns:
there's no: "they"...
i thought the trans-lobbyist covered the plug-hole
of cognitive-****...
there is not "us" or "them":
gender neutral is me...
armed with a strap-on ***** on my ******* forehead...
a bit like... that hebrew practice of...

so i had me a "friend: a fwend...
maybe that's cornish for something in velsh...
you know how word salad sounds?
on a persistence?
sure... a son of divorce...
what am i? his ******* uncle?
his mother undermined the concept
of al dente spaghetti...
we're talking fractions of people...

people eat ****... leave the universal utility
of pork aside...
mind you: not water in the desert...
and not piggy too...
the leather shoe... the belt...
it's not exactly kosher... is it?
i have this backlog of a peoples...
at least a priest only attracts confessions...
i'm not at knife point
easy... for this triad to work?

if my fwend mentioned cognitive custard...
but the concensus of word salad
is socially broke on the norm...
so blah blah boo'yah assortment...
enriched strawberries...
juicing much later...
i can understand cognitive custard... pie...
but a word salad?
that's.... what doesn't deviate from
solipsism... this solo "project"
of "you and i"...

                       psychiatry is persisting to be
deemed a branch of
the Hippocratic oath....
but it's not...it's pseudo-"medicinal"...
it's hyped-up... idon't remember
that junction in a life...
hardly worth lived... just lived...
of my 20s... what mea culpa stressor of
those psychopaths?
currents under the broken wheel of...
attempts at supressing..
momentum? this whole ******* "flake"
of barrage?

by word salad you're implying i
have, speak... low i.q....
    non-hieroglyphic suede...
non-answerable... past replica...
woe wow salad...
but how i understand it...
a cognitive custard...
well... thinking is messy:
you ******* dim-wits!
        ought-i: thought...
i don't like being ridiculed...
or expected to her a less i.q. than what's...
nuanced at a ****** favouritism... Balkan-esque...
seriously... *******: before i ****** someone...
ugh attached to that: wind... now there's a purpose...

yeah... so what's what?
this is the least of my "concern"?
well... as they say in the west...
as long as the brain-drain happens...
we can forget about keeping the native 9 to 5ams...
sort of... but hardly... justifiably...
less than expectedly...
capitalistically boast: not exhausted...
sort of...

i can understand cognitive custard...
meddle some more...
word salad?
your ******* ****- nig-
of sorts is speaking your language better than me?
******* sour crass of a native's ***!
*******...  and you deserve it.

sometimes i wonder if shakespeare was behind the pen
that fiddled and diddled in that old church parking lot
i drove by it the other day but there was no one there
nobody freezing their buns off in the wake of the open door
nobody trying to canoodle in the back seat that wasn't folded down
nobody even thinking about pulling into that darkness.
would you even do that again? i would a hundred times think.
what even happened to that kid who used to write songs
and play them as if he were playing in front of a hundred eyes
but they were all your eyes and there wasn't a flame in existence
that was brighter than they when each lit up in its own way.
what even happened to the girl who showed that boy her house
and the colonial colloquial drapery and carpeting wall to wall,
her little sister sticking her finger into the brownie batter
and protective mother who i've gotta admit was 100 percent right:
stay away from the bad man with the non-leather patagonia jacket
and all of his sassy ideas that got him good grades in k-8
but really started to expose his weaknesses steeped in frivolity
when he got into the upper level courses and advanced placements.
[a GD mile wide and an inch deep, that's what me thinks jar jar binx]
stay away from the burnt out eagle scout who let his guard down
and allowed your guard down both metaphorically and not sooo... but
remember that coffee shop show that you never came to?
strange, it feels in this moment like an aching sore thumb.
i listened to joshua radin all the way home and thought
christ what am i even going to do about this can this work and
if it can work how can it work but if it can't work why can't it work?
because lord knows this lady is easy to please when we drink. but
silly,you're tough as ***** ****** nails when you need to be told no.
& i aint never heard of sucha thing as a dude who's charming as hell
when he's telling a gorgeous woman sum'thin she don't wanna hear;
make me a pill for that and i'll sell it on The Street for days without end.
[so how much supply you got when the thing aint even fda approved?]
"lose yourself in what you're doing and you'll never work a day" is
what they tell me while they cast me into this steel bending furnace
and demand me to find a way to be cool and relax and chill the f out-
been doing that on my own and there's no milky white ear to listen
or a record to put it on or even a GD vocal box that feels like working
unless it's singing showtunes in the car or harmonizing to justin bbr
like i'm the **** 6th man in the pentatonix or however many there are.
capitalistically useless thing i was born with and worked really hard at
until one day it told me i don't have the capacity to scribe anymore.
so i'm forever speechless like the kid who got coal for christmas last year.
& you'd catch me in that backyard again with all the 15 year old girls
still kinda trying to impress them but mostly you, & give my shirt away:
wear it and be proud that you snubbed the bad man who passed through
with the non-leather patagonia jacket in the old church parking lot.

Corporate engineering with slight color variations
and logo imprintations do not impress me.
Assembly lines do not find or make time
to free the proletariat’s enslaved mind.
They just distract us with delusions of
capitalistically designed versions of individuality.
The fact is unbridled greed can only collapse this
mad consumer society,
because selfishness subtracts the humanity
that got us to this age in the first place.

Would you if
Could you with
A gift of any wish
Granted / Change
Beauty
Or what they deem to be
The ugly in humanity
Simply (for one's own comfort)
To see and to shape
Satisfactorily
It's property

Metamorphose

So suppose you could impose
Your willing whim on man
Or make refined
These grains of sand / to cry
Change sweet sugars
To sour lime
And with this power on a dime
Create your heart
To love / to shine
And shape the world
With peaceful times!?

Still, rain will fall and war:
Often loudly screams to be
Consistently and capitalistically
Disagreeing discord
Ever more......

But if you could
And if you should
With every beef and steer
Against the odds angst and deep
Defeatists' endearing fear
Educate the darkness
How it can be lifted by
A single spark,
Would you

If could you

Should have

With a gift
Of a single wish:
Recognize Our Heart
A good place to Always

Start...


*(Stay true for you are Art)

first you want to rob me of a mother tongue,
then you want an uncle tom's worth
of an english person?
   what's next, chimps with rucksacks?
you're pushing the line, kind anglo!
you're really pushing the ******* barrier!
you think i'll treat my next-door neighbour
like a king? you ******* kidding me?
the **** deserves his: "compliments":
what are these people think they are?
sacred hindu cows?
**** em, a pleb is a pleb, doesn't matter
what country of origin...
do i see your face on a banknote, or nodding
with a crowd? no... well then...
plebs till the field, ****!
why? i know all too well why
monster magnet covered three kingfisher
by donovan...
           so? go **** yourself...
     i didn't want capitalism in my land,
you didn't want capitalistically competitive
economic workers...
  shame on you! you taught your sons nothing!
if i wanted to teach leeches, i'd teach them:
we attune to the hunger.
i don't feel jealous with my neighbour,
i'd just like to beat, the ****, out of him...
   if he owned a bulldog, i'd punch the dog
first, before starting an aim at him...
but that's how it goes: gotta punch
the slobber...
   honest to god i don't remember being
in the last fight since i was 12...
i miss the fighting... i feel: rusty...
  no amount of ******* celibacy
does the trick...
            i just haven't been in fights...
i scratched my head more times than laid
a plum pouch...
          in the years i can remember...
i'd love a ruffle with a fellow man
just as i'd love to have intimate *** with a woman
outside the appeal for prostitutes...
sometimes it comes along, that dog
on a leash: loss of object-object riding
the donkey pleasurable: goof ball and
side-tracking the end result...
       "relationships"...
first i watch the ***** of candidmommy,
and then comparative "literature"
of donovan's vs. monster magnet's
three kingfisher...
            beat ****, esp. if:
by bloodhound gang -
ain't nostriptease if the stripper is crying...
and my neighbour?
   he doesn't own a crown,
he doesn't own an amnesty international
immunity,
         ****, i'm starting to think that
missing fighting is worse than missing ***...
so i started punching myself in the face,
and while wearing sunglasses,
seeing them fall off my visage after a lazy punch...
i know that men can really get worked up
over not having enough ***,
but that's sadistic, playing this game of
****** endeavour with them...
i'm starting to realise that,
   what i really miss?
  it's almost homophilic, in that:
    i miss punching someone...
       i miss being punched,
  i miss punching someone, but not it a sport
affair of competition,
i mean: the rough & tough impromptu...
i miss that more than ***...
i'd love to have a fight with my neighbour...
naked, and the ultimate fetish of such a scenario?
smeared in olive oil, or smeared in
butter...
     like some gag's worth of a gay pride brigade
march parade... the charlie salvador
reenactment type...
oil up ***: foul mouth 'as to speak...
beauty punch that lad into a botox pair
of puckers...
           i swear to god,
i miss having a fight more than i miss having
*** with a woman...
   last kidney pie i ever made was with
kieran o'mahoney...
               in school, before a c.t.d. lesson...
thank **** he's a nightclub bouncer
these days... too the skin-head to
the butcher of scalps: and made a decent
living, looking fat, and ugly... miracle!
        yeah, i know, i have a chili's worth
of tongue waggling...
   i can't say i'm a decent fight,
       let's just say: i'm rusty...
        so i beef up, punching myself in the face
a few times, every few days...
sometimes i manage the lazy grit
with a plum hue on my knuckle...
          sensibility of talking the proof,
after having engraved yourself as a tattoo
on a *****'s ****...
         and: well: the pleasantries
of western woman's freedoms,
and their subsequent harems...
oh believe me: i still have dream-contents
akin to a child...
    i'd still prefer to have a proper fight,
than ******* my favourite **** star;
i'm building up a compendium...
         don't worry, i'm not squirm-ish;
all i have to hide, is an afro's worth of *****,
which i would invite a gardener to sort out,
had i, a regular partner to engage with.

chasing rabbits -

chasing rabbits:
slowly...
   reimagining standing
still on a treadmill.     (502)

she had to come round for about two hours today, my neighbour, she must have sniffed out that i was making pizza... i love making pizza slightly tipsy... i did the house chores and started writing this, abandoned it, now that i returned to it... well, what could have possibly changed? pristine ******* dough... ooh... what a lovely cushion of flour and water and sugar and a pinch of salt and: yrast... i love the smell... hmm mmm hmm... these hands make magic... the pizza sauce? compliments on that, of course... what did i add? oh... just a read pepper... some paprika: i wish i used some Kashmiri chilly powder... perhaps i had... garlic... onion... blitzed... sieved... twice... plum tomatoes... itch of the juice: clenched teeth saliva boiling: juicy... thinking: my tongue is a knife... now i'm going into the garden and drink a beer, or two... try finding the moo... ah ha ha: moo! moon! ah-woo! no... quiet right... one needs a forest to find the howl! but at least i can bark... when some fox penetrates the gardens and the dogs start barking... i'll bark too! free! free! free! so my neighbour likes my cooking... great! am i about to think: capitalistically?! start a pizzeria?! i like do: what tool is expected to do... because... i have "other" concerns"... the whole veneer of interacting with people is: what it is: a veneer... i have to entertain both the Jezebel and the Sophia... Sophia is difficult: since she's as abstract as Athena... it's not a lost libido: it's not impotence... it's... why would i want to ******* if you're going to spend my Saturday afternoon shopping for ******* curtains... or... whatever?! oi! Libra! come 'ere! this weigh-in weigh-out doesn't make sense... can you apply your corrective scrutiny to the "problem"? - i do make some fine pizza... no one's taking... fair enough... fair ******* doubly enough... more for me... more for oblivion... to which i answer: ah-men.

тo йeст щыт:
to jest szczyt...
diese ist der gipfel!

it only happened once...
discouraging: "discouraging" a circle
or omicron from being a circle
and becoming an ellipse: a 0... a zero...

"god" is not a moralist...
he's an existentialist...
          "he" he not not "he"...
only in English is the phenomenon
of a pronoun "problem" prevalent...
shrapnel-tongue:
               schrapnellzunge -
it's so unusual for anyone speaking
in the Slavic tongue(s) to overuse
the pronoun: iota as much as the English do...

it's like Knausgaard mentioned
about the Swedes... a people that haven't
been invaded by another people for a while...
no memory of subjugation...
the cultural Cyclops(es) of the world...

the English are pretty much the same...
they're being invaded: politely:
by their standards...
mosque after mosque reiterations...
the implosions of the greatest empire
the world has ever seen...

what?! i'm like Voltaire... i'm not native:
i write what i see...
this is not an invasion: this is not a polite invasion:
this is not an implosion of the lost
pride and empire?

once ol' Lizzie dies... it's not like...
however many popes and prime ministers she
died will have died...
tyrannical matriarchy...
          
well... if... "if"... john wallis "invented" the lemniscate:
a concept and a compact symbol:
all the same... back in 1655... ∞
who "invented" the number 8 or the letter B?

i know who invented the letter B...
******* with modern feminism and all that
came prior with the Sibyls and Carmenta:
*******: modern woman!
i get my ******* elsewhere...
among women that still want to have some
joy in life... who else?! prostitutes!
no ******! because: we're symbiotic:
hygienic minded people!
   ******* with your
       cluster-****-of-****-*****-scabs!
flaking away... flaking away...
wash... your... *******... hands!

once upon a time women held very
important positions in society...
now? microwave ovens shoved that dream
right up our ***** with 12" ****** sticking
out...
         of course i'm *******!
why wouldn't i be?

     bitter? no... i just enjoy the plethora of emotions
that come with rage and doubt as much
as those that some with the soothing:
mollusk tenderness: melting... ice-cream
of ooh-oops of love...
           but...
                            b-b-b-b-ut...
something's itching me: i just heard
a quake of thunder in the sky through the loud
music playing in my earphones...
i'm on the right track...
           if there's lightning but no thunder...
esp. in the night: i'm suspicious...
but if there's thunder and no lightning:
comfort music... i must be hungry...
i think i'll sacrifice a chicken tow-toe-into-the-night...

(towing, a)

       let's just say: "hypothetically":
"god" created the pristine man... the advocate...
the priest... the "somewhat" and some "other"...
as curator for the basis of ontology..

the rest?! mutations: self-generated prejudices...
the original plan was X...
but the plan morphed and became Z...
there's no point blaming a deity for a lack
of intervention: who would want to entertain
the idea of free will while at the same time
succumbing to a c.c.t.v. "state" (of existence)?

life without effort is not worth living:
but then again: carrying the burden that ought
to be shared equally: for others...
Somalis... the English and their *******
anti-racism mantra: fair enough!
you abolished the slave trade...
fair enough! but now the English are
getting culturally ***** by their lenience!
a people that haven't been subjected
to conquest for a long, long... long time...

they have become: complacent!
   too agreeable! trust-worthy pilots flying to:
**** knows where... not even the seagulls know...
perhaps only in London...
elsewhere perhaps they're as thick-as-custard...
but in my vicinity...
            
a bit like my facebook page...
the "people you may know"... what? stalkers?
why is this coming up?
this website used to be dead for me for a while...
now i'm getting this "issue" with:
"people you may know":
i never used a dating application, but it's starting
to feel like i'm using one...
i'm swiping right sieving through:

uriel darl, souad dharhi, aura huckerthman,
   andressa wangel, yus ningsih, el drema,
gülan meriç(ch), ramina amores, kristina jodzkiene,
angie biada, consuelo siouxe, sulistiawatisetya setya,
Xриcтинa Линчкo (christina linchko),
             unayah naya, goharik javahiryan,
Гaлинa Лaщeнкo (galina lashchenko),
    nilufar shermatova, cecile valeron mmaacv,
Kaтя Пaлий, nelu medina, maryati pujiman,
cida oliv, thaizth mendezt, katell seignoux,
lorena ramirez, taylla kamylla, keyza adelia putri,
kelly martins, emma ryan, carnevale chiara,
douce tusorapas, sonia de flaviis,
              carmen antonela, rosalia delgado,
delpine lafontaine -, cegail rapley,
            ariel alear, aghori aaleem,
                   florine fremont, mary HM,
dorota zarzycka, tayana zakh, megan barfield,
helena maria soares, jan lose, perrine kali-yoga,
annie zhou, angel mawar, sabrina muhlberger
(that's with an umlaut hovering above the "yew"),
sylvie lescan... ****'s sake the list is endless!

i'm bored of listing all the "friend" suggestions...
all of them: women!

don't blame me! blame the algorithm!
i've never seen these women!

     nope... life's not interesting enough to be
fully sober...
not even close... life's make more sense drinking
and typing typos: finding TY-POS...
i don't imply: drinking in your face...
on the street with other winos...
i mean: drinking alone, at night...
   listening to foxes... spotting a rat scuttling...
admiring the moon...
thinking: how does one not write
a Chinese haiku... how does one?

    i'd love to find a woman that could cook
better than me...
i truly: would love to...
keeping the chicken at best the highet
of 165 degrees Fahrenheit...
medium rare beef... hmm... debatable...
145 degrees Fahrenheit is probably my maximum...
****... i think we're questioning 125...

i'm yet to find a woman who's...
pedantic about:
not butchering a piece of beef steak twice...
i can't... butcher a piece of meat twice:
corrupt it with the Arabic tendency
to obscure the fresheness of blood...
and that: stale... yuck... sawdust...
beef overcooked... in the format of steak...
i can't butcher a beef twice:
we know... it's obvious...
the males are segregated for the meat
while the females are kept for the milk...
no irony...
                  
          it was preordained:
no point cowering away from the cruelty
by replacing authentic meat with
vegetable substitutes...
or... synthentic cat-food pseudo-proteins...
or bean-burgers...
i sometimes roam the fields in Essex
and see the horses...
well... aren't you the lucky ones?
shouldn't you be... extinct?!

                   shouldn't they? why would you
need a horse... when you have a bicycle...
when you have a car?!
so... why keep them?
i'd love to pet a horse...
i loved riding horses...
not ******* Lamborghini no
rich boy ******* Ferrari will ever compare
to riding a horse through a forest
at full gallop!

               not even if i were getting a blow-job
in a car... speeding... in those sort of cars...
no... nein nein nein nein!

i'm immune to envy of that sort...
i'm against society as such...
  what?!    Q = ?!
                 isn't the western tradition invested
in individualism?!
                                   q

why would i need a car when living
in London...
when... i can cycle around London and back
in about 5 hours...
take the train to Liverpool St. in about 30 minutes...
i don't have to:
a) think about paying for parking
b) ditto about paying for road tax
c) m.o.t.
d) e) f) g) and any imaginary points
you might conjure...

               now... you give me a horse?
the game changes... i'd love something larger
than the already Maine **** cat that could come
across as a poodle (no, not a puddle)
size-wise...
    i love the coyness of horses...
            they really do require you to become
patient with you...
unlike those ****** of dogs that can immediately
run up to strangers and blah blah tail wiggle
and: whatever...
cats... semi-, on the spectrum...
horses though... brooding *******...
they take oh so long to gain their trust...

i was roaming the fields, the forest at night...
blasted: beyond comparison...
i forgot my apple,
i forgot my cube of sugar...
came across a herd of them...
gave one of them my hand to...
nibble... it nibbled...
then retracted: are you mad!
you're implying i'm readily willing to
eat man-flesh?!
it buckled... glancing my forehead
with its hind hoofs...
"buckled"... no...
the ****** almost knocked me out...
because it started nibbling on my fingers
"thinking" i might have a treat
of an apple in my hand...
massive teeth... buck-tooth...
even more massive hoofs...
    
         i sort of wished he knocked me out...
the last "thing" i would have seen
was the moon...
and the sheen of lubrication
of quicksilver pouring over almost everything...
like a: liquidified mirror...
        just like that: like a liquidified mirror...

how long will this tyranny last?
    i want to be as old as Plato and be as exhausted
as Plato...
and still retaining my heterosexual flaovuring...
of that rancid old man...
until that time comes...
        at my peak: i want to play with my
yo-yo...
                all the women that are interested are
either single mums or married women...
young girls are uninteresting:
i'm not a predator... i'm a herder...
         young girls are boring...
"boring": i.e. unrelatable...
    the sexes have diverged beyond
compensation...
                          funny that:
i'd rather spend an evening with a bottle
of whiskey than with a woman...
with a bottle of whiskey and my own thoughts
than with a woman...
                     even i am struggling to comprehend
this anomaly...
      
why talk? when you can be left alone
foraging for new music?!
akin to keluar's - vitreum?
                        i get the romance part...
but... the plan part i don't get...
   the plan being: i work... i work... i have no socks...
i pretend to have underwear...
i work... i work... i do overtime...
i come back home and... and...
     who does the cooking?! i hate her cooking!
she always overcooks the pasta!
she under-seasons the sauce!
                she can't do **** with yeast!
i make my own pizza... i cook my own food...
i get the romance aspect being sold:
but... what's the plan?!

           she already has children by some
other ****-wit...
i get the romance bit... but... what's the plan?!
i can cough up: pretty much all of my earnings for
her and her *******... i can make concessions...
by then: there's the plan...
but there's no longer the romance...

by now:
do i really want more? than simply a bed to sleep in?
can life afford me
any emotional adventure?
do i want it?
              i like my own company
too much to let anyone share it with me...
not out of a feeling of superiority...
just out of necessity... almost god-like...

         habitually: i'm just not used to having
people increment the details of my personal life...
i like them: behind a membrane...
a niqab...
                 i don't care where you put them:
i just dont want them near me!
except for the children and the animals...
i could spend an eternity with these two
classifications...

                 one night with Sharon Stone...
when Sharon Stone was Sharon Stone
and when te 1980s where the 1980s...
she just reminds me of: Samantha....
kissing Milena..
            
                               i really miss these girls..
i hope they forget me
with a burning: sensation ...

history will not be kind to us...
we'll be a laughing-stock of the ages...
let us pass.... let us pass:
into the lava lamp of Hades.

Would you if
Could you with
A gift of any wish
Granted /
Change
Beauty
Or what they deem to be
The ugly
in humanity
Simply (for one's own comfort)
To see and to shape
Satisfactorily
It's property…

Metamorphose.

So suppose
You could impose
Your willing whim on Man,
Or make refined
These grains of sand
To cry

Change sweet sugars
To sour lime

And with this power on a dime
Create your own heart
To love / to shine
Maybe even shape the world
With peaceful times!?

As always
rain will fall
As war
Often loudly screams to be
Consistently and capitalistically
Decreed

A Disagreeing discord
Ever more......

But if you could
And if you should
With every beef and steer
Against the odds angst and deep
Defeatists' endearing fear
Educate the darkness
How it can be lifted by
A single spark,

Would you

If could you

Should have

With a gift
Of a single wish:
Recognize Our Heart

A good place to Always
Start...


(Stay true for you are Art)

How are we
Are we one yet?
Have we seen what's under the tree yet?
Are we there yet

It's so obvious but so subtle
It all has to do with each other
Why are we heading there anyway
Hasn't the oases dried up yet?

But is it worth it
Do we need it
Commercially out of place
Capitalistically in a haste

What's there though
At the end
Are we in a race for nothing
But there must be something

A creative elaboration
Something not yet there
An oddity of one or two
A place more sanctious
It's etheric and barely permissible

How are we
Are we one yet?
Have we seen what's under the tree yet?
Are we there yet

It's so obvious but so subtle
It all has to do with each other
Why are we heading there anyway
Hasn't the oases dried up yet?

But is it worth it
Do we need it
Commercially out of place
Capitalistically in a haste

What's there though
At the end
Are we in a race for nothing
But there must be something

A creative elaboration
Something not yet there
An oddity of one or two
A place more sanctious
It's etheric and barely permissible

today:

i've sort of quit smoking...
but as you: or don't...
watching the eurovision song contest
results come in
while drinking some southern comfort
admiring the moon while the clothes drier
was wheezing it's last r.p.m.

i thought: well... at least a session with
in a dentistry chair can become
more pleasurable...
i saw more cringe than fringes...
when culture dies there's
that... added shock of:
i wouldn't call it an itch...
it's not a case of goose-bumps...
it's a sickly sweet sensation...
it's "something" that makes you want
to *****, trouble is:
you did some 50+ stomach crunches
and have eaten bad
blueberry ravioli...

so... there's not much in the tank
to... so you're basically forcing up bile...
but i cycled into central London today...
i passed Soho plenty of times...
i never bothered to venture in...
i was looking for a look of reciprocation...
from a gay-lord...
otherwise i was there eyeing up
some *******...

because: obviously i wasn't scouting
for comic books...
comic characters... perhaps...
capes? not so much...
a ******* ****-storm of....
marching for Palestine... congregated
at Hyde Park...
i did my usual round around that
bloated space of green...
on my way back into Essex
i had to cut through the swelling of the vein
of bodies...

i was almost tempted...
i wish i would have been...
it would be silly to shout obscenities...
although i did manage to build up
this toothache on my way back...
like i was given this evil-eye for being:
the usual suspect...

how much did i want to laugh while
passing this protest with the words:
gott! mit! uns!
  looking for an itch... looking for some
manna...
like the protest of homeless men on
oxford street among all the shoppers,
atheists... materialists...
i was almost... enraged by a seed of jealousy...
of not being... part of something...
wouldn't you?
i almost wished to don a kippah
or the star of david cycling into this throng...
this river of people...
gott! mit uns!

łamany łbem:
            broken with a head....
divided by a head...
and When i think about it...
i don't... i think about not thinking...
designated orientation concering
a "lost narrative" of res vanus...

głowa (gwova)...
        doubled down dutch privy to Welsh...
with a head...
        z głową...
which implies a neck... shoulders...
a balancing act worth of spine...

      łeb: for the animal... pysk: the snout...
canines...
  łbem: stressing the point of forehead...
hammer...
with a head, hardly absent...

yesterday:

a minor amnesia - nonetheless it happens,
there's another word for it...
skleroza: spontaneous forgetfulness...
this fickle creature that's memory...
thankfully i have a stash of about 5 major memories
that i like to revisit...
play them over and over in my head...
since... i'm not on the crux of death...
well... since i'm not...
i have become more prone to exercise
the freedom of memory than i might want
to watch a movie...
trouble comes when i'm not my own d.j.,
in a car... heading toward... ******* IKEA...
in Enfield... where the phlegmatic crew of
dodo are this close | | to learning the arithmetic
of time...
a song on the radio... Belinda Carlisle...
circle in the sand...
in between talking with my father...
                  nothing metaphorical about that...
- so you know how old bob marley was
when he died? 36...
- you think he would still be touring?
well... he wouldn't need the money...
**** jagger does it for the joy...
        
i can't write narratives...
it's not like we're estranged...
but... it's complicated...
i think this is one area of my life i will keep
off-limits when writing...
i can be as honest about ******
as i can be about horses...
the narrative never took place...
believe me...
we talked about a range of things...
morgage

then when we came home an hour
later than expected...
she (dearest mother)
was probably drinking alone...
throwing little tantrums of me and father
alone time...
well... not to mention he was absent
from the most crucial years of my life...
from 4 till 8...
how does the ugly side of immigration
look like? brain-drain...
we: the diaspora members...
away from the motherland...
for the "better life"...
i too am playing catch-up...
how did ol' Leo frame it?
every happy family is the same...
but every sad family is sad uniquely:
in it's own unique way...

  get Wittgenstein to sort this
tautology... i'm not going to bother...
come to think of it... it's not even
a tautology... a tautology would be more
focused on thesaurus rex...

we had a conversation about football
and music... re-mortgaging...
even Bowie remained true to music...
he probably didn't tour...
but still made new content...
singing about mortality and ****...
i think i'm having this playback moment
in my head...

but then this song came on the radio...
magic fm... belinda carlisle...
circle in the sand...
all of a sudden i had this urge to listen
to a song, that song reminded me off...
oh hell... exactly: what was it?
the search began with: 'the message'...
mc-****-fartery...
      round and round...
jokes aside... i had to listen to belinda's
song on earphones once more
before the "revelation"...

  it seems obvious... "now"...

nik ******* kershaw - the riddle...

exactly... how did i get "the message" wrong?
two strong arms... blessings of Babylon...
blah blah: toe-tying-riddle...
almost like good luck is expected...

come to "think" of it...
a revelation... even though there's that monotheistic
focus on the patriarch...
puppet... strings...
missing *******...
i'm having a hard time not thinking
that ha-shem... the nameless father of hey-zeus
and the ha-ha-mighty blah-lah-al
are not... primarily... feminine gods...
well... conjured up from a ****
rather than a working 'ed...

they're irrational... and can be reduced down
to... the three heads of Cerberus...
they are never really depicted...
worded sleuth pulp fiction harlequin traps...
most artists?
oh **** me... even the ****'ites would agree...
get your eyes to focus on something...
that's how much i dare to admire Islam...
from the ****'ite perspective...

what ******* topic is this?
i was about to pour myself another drink
and this thought like a blitzkrieg came
flushed from a ******* in the universe
where all the gods and nothings
congregate from indigestion and
constipation...
a ******* miracle: a diarrhoea moment...
of sorts...
the monotheistic veneer... of "patriarchy"...

what?! she wants a ring of gold
and my ******* too?
how about a tent's worth of a kippah
on my ******* tonsure?
a man would require a screwdriver...
a hammer... nails... screws...
it would make sense to have many
involved... than this pressure of solipsism...
vampire... succubus... leech...
a ****** hail mary...

**** speak...
                    so great... the technological advances...
atheistic secularism...
but there's a ******* grid-lock to mind too...
no a ****** dam...
a rich cognitive custard...
it's just that: a cognitive custard...
like Moses rekindling a belonging concept
along the lines of being lied to:

monotheism hardly serves man...
i can find appeals to the illusion it presents...
but... hardly...
looks like the "plenty of fish in the sea"
metaphor is drying up the concept
of a "catch"...

the conversation with my father are
off-limits in my purpose of writing in the first
place... unlike a Knausgaard...
i'm the drinker... he's the teetotaller...
he's the workhorse i'm the... chicken-scratcher:
if i had ink...
but i'm also probably ten beaks pecking
resounding at this... grand... oh my god...
******* piano of QWERTY...

genius idea... what?
qwerty... because the orthodox memory erosion
of the alphabet is of any use?
suddenly everything has to **** me off...
it has to be dipped in still water...
it has to be believable...
monotheism is concretely a religion
designated for the preservation of women...
why my *******?
oh... because if you don't have it...
i can... ******* at a leisurely pace?

that a woman can ******* without inhibitions...
while i have to be shamed?
*******, *******...
i don't even have enough slander to express
what my heart reacts to these days...
i don't have "hurt" feels...
i have... agitated feelings...
thank you for waking me up from my numb...
apathy...
but what do i hear? "hurt feels"...
****'s sake... those people don't even recognise
what feeling is supposed to feel like!
they're all french footballers... "hurt" all of a sudden...
wow! so...
"hurt" is translated into the parameters of:
feeling per se?
imagine my shock finding out that
apathy has dulled "i.q." to so little that...
you must be hurt to feel...
you can't be spontaneously agitated...
you must be hurt...

bring out the hot horseshoes...
let's have some fun branding these *******-waggling-
***** aside...

just wait for the breeders to wake up
to having children that turn into freely-arranged
agents of will...
i'm passing through a decade where there's
boasting...
but sooner rather than later...
there will be some hidden mention
of those... pickled-cabbage:
why do the 'indus find pickled cabbage
"funny"?
not eating beef sounds pretty funny...
or like that "proverb" from Morocco:
there's no water, in the desert...
then... what... the... ****... are... you...
"doing" in this, here... land of replenished
roots?!

******* camel jockeys...
what do "they" call them, proper?
sand-*******...
it would take a Bengladesi to get
smart notes on the caste "system"....
Aryan has no origin in Europe...
it probably originated in Indian when
they first came across Persians...
who are... oddly... "pale"...
but have not bartablondine aspects
of their ****** expressions...

ivory skinned like an Iranian or a ***-
without a suntan?
"you" wanted trenches...
here's my designated plot...
"you" wanted ******* to overshadow
real.. culprit-esque concerns...
the jealousy of a woman
knows not bounds...
most especially when a father-son
privacy is engaged with...

  if i ever encountered male jealousy...
it was always rare...
almost never...
        but female jealousy? anything...
everything to belittle the opposing "authority"...
ha-shem... the jealous deity of women...
blah-lah-al of...kept secrets stashed in the niqab...
allure of the ******* eyes...
come on...

****** ******* mary:
that matriarch of sold foetuses and
walking abortions...
at least there was something adventerous
in conceiving the existence of Loki...
of Thor...
there's nothing... original about the point
of monotheistic gods...
that there are three...
is Islam the truest of religions?!
they had a Sunni ****'ite schism... didn't they?
once again:
i want to believe in something:
to give me momentum...
give be a willing acceptance to excuse...
an overarching stressor of incredulity...
and a... "what life"?

well... existence is...
out of every instance: a persistence to:
instance... a persistence...
that's... existence... ex-
out of...
and stance...
dis-ease... a negation of ease...

there will be plenty more of those car
journey listening to magic fm...

an "original": whether mind, or thinker...
that mythology of evil that the Nazis provided...
******* Armani suits and boots...
or whoever designed them... Hugo Boss...
what are we left with,
to mind matters of collectivism?
the evil of censorship instigated by...
halfwits and ******* haemophiliacs?

a myth of evil that could be...
galvanised... momentum and emblem...
what's on offer... currently?
grey-suits and...
expectations: that it's the "21st century"
something magical is about to happen...
what's the difference between the 20th century
and the 18th century?
the 19th century...
so what's the difference between
a pebble, a cliff edge and a mountain?
don't know... a river? a lake?

that same **** different cover excuse
like some wonderful was going to happen
in the 21st century...
like there was a promise...
where is this **** coming from?!
oh yeah... but it's the 21st century...
i was hoping for gravity to ******* and turn all:
short-circuit awry...

i can pretend... for a while...
but after that while passes... i turn into a real mystery
of a door **** gone berserker...
are there these societal expectations
to simply **** **** the next...
blow the next... ******* origami of OXFAM
purple-fest whimpering "dead-doughnut":
although i'd cry... if it was a stray dog
from the streets of Seville...
******* camel-jockeys...

  it's not even a inhibited play on pronouns:
there's no: "they"...
i thought the trans-lobbyist covered the plug-hole
of cognitive-****...
there is not "us" or "them":
gender neutral is me...
armed with a strap-on ***** on my ******* forehead...
a bit like... that hebrew practice of...

so i had me a "friend: a fwend...
maybe that's cornish for something in velsh...
you know how word salad sounds?
on a persistence?
sure... a son of divorce...
what am i? his ******* uncle?
his mother undermined the concept
of al dente spaghetti...
we're talking fractions of people...

people eat ****... leave the universal utility
of pork aside...
mind you: not water in the desert...
and not piggy too...
the leather shoe... the belt...
it's not exactly kosher... is it?
i have this backlog of a peoples...
at least a priest only attracts confessions...
i'm not at knife point
easy... for this triad to work?

if my fwend mentioned cognitive custard...
but the concensus of word salad
is socially broke on the norm...
so blah blah boo'yah assortment...
enriched strawberries...
juicing much later...
i can understand cognitive custard... pie...
but a word salad?
that's.... what doesn't deviate from
solipsism... this solo "project"
of "you and i"...

                      psychiatry is persisting to be
deemed a branch of
the Hippocratic oath....
but it's not...it's pseudo-"medicinal"...
it's hyped-up... idon't remember
that junction in a life...
hardly worth lived... just lived...
of my 20s... what mea culpa stressor of
those psychopaths?
currents under the broken wheel of...
attempts at supressing..
momentum? this whole ******* "flake"
of barrage?

by word salad you're implying i
have, speak... low i.q....
    non-hieroglyphic suede...
non-answerable... past replica...
woe wow salad...
but how i understand it...
a cognitive custard...
well... thinking is messy:
you ******* dim-wits!
        ought-i: thought...
i don't like being ridiculed...
or expected to her a less i.q. than what's...
nuanced at a ****** favouritism... Balkan-esque...
seriously... *******: before i ****** someone...
ugh attached to that: wind... now there's a purpose...

yeah... so what's what?
this is the least of my "concern"?
well... as they say in the west...
as long as the brain-drain happens...
we can forget about keeping the native 9 to 5ams...
sort of... but hardly... justifiably...
less than expectedly...
capitalistically boast: not exhausted...
sort of...

i can understand cognitive custard...
meddle some more...
word salad?
your ******* ****- nig-
of sorts is speaking your language better than me?
******* sour crass of a native's ***!
*******...  and you deserve it.