A master of disguises
And a crippler of fear
you come in many sizes
and I will always keep you near

A new war had begun
against the war monger
finally sentenced to death
he couldn't hide any longer

His fear now a crippler
sent the man to his knees
begging for mercy
spare my life please

I'm not ready for death
I want to live longer
how could I have been so wrong
to be a war monger

All of those lives
all these dead boys
I promise I'll change
no longer treat them as toys

The collateral damage
I thought not my fault
the women and children
so many dead in the vault

Again I do beg you
spare my life please
what more do you want
I'm here on my knees

Yet the truth of the matter
except for his fear
his begging for mercy
is something we'd never hear

He'd go on making money
by sending others to war
showing all who he is
a war mongering *****

I’m turning from Blanche DuBois into Chris Benoit
taking a streetcar named Desire to Monday Night Raw
after the oppression of the law got stuck in my craw
because the discretion of the flawed became the voice of God.

I’d always relied on the kindness of strangers
only to find the Million Dollar Man’s danger
directing the Army Rangers to Jesus’ manger
letting the Undertaker deal with the remainder.

I relinquished my rightful place
to the bank’s Crippler Crossface
taking everything until I lost grace
going into a holocaust craze.

I’m upset about the places I can’t go
because I’ll be ***** by Marlon Brando
when I ask the referee for a hand though
he just responds with a ****** no.

I have retired my display of Vivian Leigh
now Whatever by Our Lady Peace plays
as the Rabid Wolverine walks to the stage
to fight the Big Boss Man in a cage.

I gave up teaching class to my sister
to fight an *** who’s a mister
whose slaps can blister
so he blasts this spinster.

The law is a tougher opponent than Eddie Guerrero
so I apply my aptitude into becoming a pistolero
after getting jabbed by my French Quarter pharaohs
I can feel resistance down in my Marc Mero.

I start to take steroids
because there are boys
whose terror noise
impairs my poise.

I go all out performing flying headbutts
fighting until I see the dead’s guts
exterminating enemies like bed bugs
but then I start to dread hugs.

Now I assume a stranger’s spite
so I can immediately fight
I’m swallowed by night
wearing these tights.

In my rage I **** my wife and son
now my anger is no longer fun
even if it came from their gun
it’s me who’s the loneliest one.

I changed from a lady to a wrestler losing my ****** mind
fighting Mankind while stepping on landmines
until I can’t find any grand signs
and I’m anger defined.

up close and personal all faults and failings
jump out the closet the moment my back is turned
bolts out the blue are just that and there's nothing to be done
its a crippler no doubt about it and we are all just hobbling along.

The wind is blowing softly threw the night. Our angel is standing upon her cliff.in deep thought. Wondering what to think or to even do. She's been caught up in fates crazy game of chess. She walks along wondering what the next move is going to be. The confusion that is running threw her heart and mind can be fatal for most in a crippler for the rest. Has the wind blows over her softly she feels the presence of someone. She's become some what frighten buy the presence. But she knows that their is no need to be frighten. She has wondered the world so long now alone in doing what has to be done and asked of her. Fate has been playing a deadly game with our dear angel for some time now. She looks to the night sky watching the stars and smiles to her self. Maybe the game fate and destiny is playing with her isn't has bad has she feels it is.but then again she just doesn't know. The tangled web it is weaving for her has changed her so much. Our angel has calmed down so very much because of the presence who has been around her and one that has made its self at home in her realm. Sometimes she runs to the boundary line ready to jump past it and hide herself away. But she doesn't she just wonders their in then back from it again. But our angel is very well guarded still because the events she's been threw have took and all but almost destroyed her. She looks down to her guardians who are resting and waiting for her command on what they need to do. She nods to them letting them know to go out in watch over the ones who need it and protect the innocent from all harm. For now they are helping her with what she usually dose on her own each and every night. Because our angel has become vulnerable in a lot of ways. And now she has to take watch and a strong head to keep herself protected because of this chess game fate and destiny have placed her in.our angel has grown tired and weary over the past few year's. She's been broken and damaged to a point she's ready to just not love anymore. But yet theirs been something placed around her that's changing that part in her .so for now she sets on her cliff thinking and wondering bout what she's doing and what she's going threw. She doesn't question this game. But she dose wonder if she will be healed or will it take in give her that fatal blow. For now our angel will wait and let the game play threw just know that what ever happens this game is only making our angel stronger and wiser. But for all of the souls she watches over they will always be protected even if this game deals that blow that could destroy her. Or heal her...

the former banality of editorial constipation(s)
in the realm of preference
and prejudice
like some sacred barometer of what might
appeal to the crowd...

modernity and old age:
man's gift unto man: old age...
"gift" (insert snigger) -

Montenegro Montenegro
black mountain poetics i used to be a fan of
after i passed by the beatniks
notably from all the liberal homosexual
****-erotica
it was like a drug of youth this literature
but somehow now
when i think about it
i should have been chasing girls
i should have been chasing girls
in my 20s
shooting my shots
blanks and live ones
perhaps should have fathered about a dozen
*******
donated my ***** to a clinic
better that than using dating apps
that is better have been a bio-incenstive
impetus comma dot dot
i mean should have thought about
not this ego-mutation
and bad bah thought
to uneven the ground upon
which the crucifix stands...

to my nightmare and glee of horror like
black sheen on Gidea Prime: Baron Gideon
stood like a lamppost where
all the shady dealings were done in full
view...
where this proud monstrous sexuality
was still but a timidity (a temperament) taboo...
homosexuality...
i should have been chasing girls
in my 20s
and now how do i not hurt her...

the pantheism and the pan-Slavic movement
of the 20th century
prime but then there was a history
of somewhere in the West: the Dictat:
DYKTAT...

Neth Neth...
Nethen in Oldenburg, or from the Nethe river near Höxter, or the Nethen, a tributary of the Dijle
or more like
Agnethe - Agnes -
some Sylvia Plath not really Plath
was never a fan more
a poet for girls
suicide purple glove girls
cherry kisses girls of my 20s not there:
i.e. in the past...

no real investments of ego-mutation
in the other
through lies and paradises for turtles
like slow lies
and unlike quick lies
and eternal truths
but also transient
temporary truths:

we do live in a time of temporary truths
there are permanent truths
and impermanent truths
because truth is the element Titan Chronicus
Prometheus Beta Quo Delt Ah...

for the simple logic of pleasure
this afternoon brain numbing
ego wandering sloth of disguise
since now sobering thought
come and i no longer have the youthful
Red Eye Rotaugen: i see in reds
on grey for distinction of hues

like there is this imagine in my head
of being impaled high above the skies
of Golgotha
dripping blood from my sensitive
where gills ought to be if having lost
the tail was enough
to not allow the ancient monkeys
to dream up of travelling across the sea
bumping into Moby **** and Atlantis
maybe more than dinosaurs
still here oddly
like birds and remnants serpents and
baby girl loves her encyclopedia
and i'll be stuck with licking-clean-finger
after buckaroo kangaroo
Kentucky child
                        a pouch for a baby-money
slot that idea in no between
my newest love comes
in the words of (as already mentioned)
and Tomash Shalamun...

                   from Russian to Ukranian
to Slovak to Slovenian to Czech
to ****** to Romanian...

              zrkadlo > ogledalo > zrcadlo >
     lustro > oglindă > آینه
        (ayna) > ḏihn | ذهن

                    mirror-mind:

         ðihn                      ḏ
O'odham...
                          definite article: THE tongue
to the behind of teeth no 1, 1: jedynki...

speculo                 lustro: pstro!
lu stroma krawedz...
                    lu lu                   paper planes
and summer unfulfilled...

           with no kind permission from
Brian Henry: the slovenian translator -
concoctions no laboratory
instead this body and some solvent case
for drip drip...
just an idea but one without either hammer
or magnet or umbrella or oar
thus so:

such body now antiquated purpose
blind
among the worms and glitter
of fictional post religious planets
but nonetheless favouring
the Islam before the oil was consecrated
upon the earth from the realms
of Hades...
         since that time when Islam was
at peace while Christianity was at war
with itself to the point
of instanity
that only now some of us born in Catholicism
and elsewhere are looking for
answers in Judaism and Islam
with the emergence of the Nag Hammadi
library...
after all this is not some writing down
a pop song or
a pulpit praise me i'm speaking you're listening
and this is almost a stand-up comedy show
but no i see the exasperated bodies mixed
with heads and tongues
and spines and i wonder well
this is reserved for thinking readers
and anti mantra gig lords of the 0 hour contract
in the economy which is like
a rain forest or a desert or something
to employ an ego-machete against
anything this ego can morph into an object
like a house plant or one of the many
of Solomon's ants on the shy buds yet to blossom
yet to bloom...
overheated colour in the sun
first green then yellow then murk of brown
the retreat of the yearly...
affair... like water with the armies of waves
on the shores of the earth
then too earth each year
on the attack for the kingdom of the air
early early the cleaning lady of the air
with trees those pumpkin explosions of oxygen...
so obvious but not so apparently
this is never going to be a Shakespeare
or: is that yellow face?

thought the English left with the Africans
while the Eastern Europeans
were sort of left dumbfounded expressionless
with the Asians
because that's how i see the divide
the western europeans hatching a plan
with the Africans
while the Arabs stumbled toward that plan
and the eastern europeans were "left behind"
with the Asians not so much
the Japanese they're apart
Satan said Japan and i said: good lucky uncle
to the Somali 60 year old security guard
no guard... just polite conversation
no coming to shoving or pushing
a backgammon agenda to replace strategy
because it's a game with no real
offensive agenda...

hence my tease of the anti-history of Polynesia
because it is an anti-history
because there is so much water in it
and not so much land
and so not like the territories of land
the territories of the seas have been intact
since the birth of mamaman...
and the ummi the mamamann and the ummi
that's me sitting pretty:
Muhammad and Matthew sitting in a tree
one counts joints the other counts
bones and shooting Agos like that myth
of a name not yet used or personified:

   quote question quest and qw: qiqi
i.e. a quickie with no harmony... recipes of disasters
like no subjective experience of
the hypothalamus unless from the joy of
cycling then perhaps then
because that's the vector coordinate centre
then what of the subjective experience
of the... ablangada: a giddy blank blah blah a-blah
no:
the posit came from
the inseparable construct of the brain and eye dynamic
therefore a symbiosis
of not host and parasite equivalent
but the antithesis of
because that's the duality of the brain-and-eyes
said more softly and high **** flinging typos
of mind-and-soul...
                   at least to convince the "concept" of thinking
there could be some ethereal mingling
of the eyes
to at least explain why we see dreams
when our eyes are closed...

yes the eyes of souls like bewildering the supposed
heard existence of devils and nuns
angels and Behemoths and geniuses
of Newton and Mozart like
dropping big names is not unlike
calling Sunday Sunday
and Friday Friday
or perhaps that's just me being sea sick
on an island
rather than a ship
or perhaps
that's just me worried i might not have any friends
beside you
and the kid and the grandma
and perhaps i will go mad a second time
and i will be crushed by going to the church
and not freely engaging with other religions
and perhaps the infrastructure of the entire island
and the population being 70,000
i am part of managing events with crowds
that amass at stadiums with more people
than the entire population
plus the 1,400 acres owned by Herr Zuck:
not zzz or sleeping in a zoo snooze
ooze this Herr dry
or watch as i burn paper in hope of flying
somehow,
elevating logic of the gauged out eyes
by now and nothing freeing me but the bottle
and t.v. perhaps turn to painting obscure
riddles in imagining the river of sand that's
also called the Tempus Ori...

                      yes: that the brain is so interconnected
with these fragile two
these so exposed pieces of vital information
and strategy
that somehow we don't think the eyes
are the Ronin the Rebels of the body
that i think they are since they curiously
conjure up dreams and that's completely devoid
of the brain's scrutiny of reality
that is the eye-drip-******-mantra
of the ***** in itself
as addicted to light and if not exposed to enough
like skin in lacking vitamin D
then the vitamin in light that maybe is there
but if we know the origins of the universe
then from beginning there must be vitamin
in the light that... something fluorescent green
and spooky arctic blue that's also
grey because not enough sunlight is cultivated
by those seas...

O this gigantic world and my only escapade because
i've reached a Napoleonic fatigue
of failed reincarnations that lead to no tactic
to counter tactic or the new ordeal
that's the imploded war dynamic of saying
in a dream:

war is a process of education
that outshines all the pedagogic hiccups
of prolonged... what?
from youth to some middle then to the youth-of-mortal-end
that's called the age of
before it was a sign of the god's benevolent
nature to allow
a man reap the outer reaches of age
and grace the earth with words
of wisdom...
but now now
now now but what now?
old age the crippler the half baked loath of bread
the cancer and dementia
at least in the past people died in the fervor of fever
in their youth what healthy and what
peaceful deaths
perhaps with painful toothache interludes
but more a life a gamble than all these current
predicaments of predictability and knowledge
of the gene pool variant and...

man's gift unto man: old age
yet without: Yeti!
                         what conundrum since love got busy
and in the way but then reality left a flower
of reminders and said:
but we do share an in vivo beginning
and now to think of it 20 years from now
i would have at least 3 co-dependents to think
of caring for split between
London and Kauai
and they'd be 85 and you'd be 75
and **** me that's like that
plus some energetic kid who just realised
she would be working the mundane cycle
of hunger fear shelter fear
love fear and all that's life an experience with
the selfishness of deities so troubled
by no sharing then sharing
then "us" oversharing with the overstep of techno-
more than bio- evolution...

now we can sort of forget Darwinism
in a way...
since biological evolution stagnated...
it is a stagnate: static even, observation...
it is not dynamic enough:
it creates rigid ontological cages of men
that used to have minds now have names
because there is only the name Freud but
no mind of Freud...
so... in terms of Darwinism
i find biology deceased...
there is only one form of evolution to concern
oneself with: namely that of technology...
Hephaestus...

          there is no looking at evolution already
established not being able to change
an increment more or less
like geology since
those are truly titanic logic branches of perception
geology, biology: almost indistinguishable
like chemistry states that there is organic
and inorganic chemistry
like there is iron in the blood
and calcium in the bones and calcium in the rocks
so... Darwinism is a nuisance argument
given the only evolution of note is
only technological...

AI like what was once the Google Search Engine
that's what chatGPT is to Googie...
i.e. that is tangible evolution
and there is no biology invoked like some ancient
rite of satisfying the wheat for harvest
or the fungus monkey generator of
deviating experiences of life
the day the planet decided to expand beyond
horizons of azures...

like the insinuation isn't there that the earth
be personified and having had spoken
said: save me O savior gasoline and Guggenheim
architect
and Mondriaan!
again: how were
the wars of the Hoecks and the Cabbeljaws
actually settled
and what ancient arguments are we even having
to preserve this day intact

i will not even ask.