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.

i tak Polska nie wydobędzie Sienkiewicza na rój tych wart smarkań audencii co: by smarkań mość da! jeez Louise: is there a lack of bridges to make them into ghettos worth the man you just dumped?!*

- SH / SZ / CH / CZ never became Æ... clingy ****.

- you don't even comprehend how much
i hate you! sheer! is the word
  best descriptive? -

nie warta walka: bez łez.
  a tym lepi sie: śmiech:
a tym o wart(ym) człek:
          pomysleć w dłonie
   czekanie: myśl;
daj mi boże sfobode nad
życia: b mi grabić mą smerc!
ja mam naród i dziecko -
i matka: jestem, sumieniem!
o tul, o tul, kołysze...
                 Y the emptied
I...
                        czar na bill...
ja chamu zda na gawaridź!
              i am being european
frictive... sorry...
a game requiring a parsley-root:
je chemu sko!
                    gavi morde na mo!
  haczyk skubany wro!
                 skem! sput!
       szto? liter nie budjed czytaj?
patsy - ni budjed: cytatny!
      skavaree!
                a hejm i huja wart skor!
ska! Kazak i Ural i Mągol!
    co slysze? ałła -
                                 i o H w morde!
czerń, gnat i skir o grzbiet: psa!
kto: warczy: i ma tchu by:
                      wilczym brakiem:
                 dać szczak!
ha-o wtopić w moją dupe..
                   extensive....
giętkie: pravda?
                          nah nah nah nah...

                  ser gna w no
o tym co: kichać ma dać dar!
zbieg mieniem:
rady braku: brat...
                o chec...
     i no jemu Baltyk...
        sedno: raj...
                       o chec:
                 i skore zdzir!
                bym mu sprostac -
bytem o: gniew -
                   takim minia polozi -
nad Litwe: krew mi daj Ukiem!
daj mi bozy gnod -
  i warkoc hod! daj ze mi Kraine!
    i to czerpie: chod!
     tym postawie swe miem:
   o co warte skarg: Cerkwiew!
         Gzyms! bell-toll!
              rachunek zem jusz
dal... a reszta: albo politika zna
sie na czlowieku,
               albo czlowiek zna
sie na... kobiecie.
   NIE JA TEM HARANSZA!
               JA: GNIDZ!
   SZARAŃCZA!
jak jom każ ten Frikan...
   lublu liter wart slovo -
             słowik -
niech no, to żyd to przynęta:
i niech nie powi:
   nasze kamienice wasze
ulice... slovo co, co nie tak by?
nuda bracie: cierpiec
   i tez czerpać z historii -
dług: jot -
                 lullaby the
******* seal to sleep
you doughnut gangster by
                                 clapping:
last time i checked:
  the valet did sing
escorting a ***** napkin
  to be touristy "concerned"
  with a: meet-the-parents take on loo....
  doesn't blank urban slang look
just like so: well? because
i actually don't know whether
i'm speaking or speaking the current
year of London...
              which doesn't even
imply a grimmace: rather -
  a bewildered epitome of
                       stupendous: via no vs.
i want to imitate the nonsense of
making rap, music...
          scold me, fine...
              but no one will speak this language
for a need to be doctrined by:
coherently skidding on juicing
a "fascination" with blunt...
      apparently all language is
the most accessed...
         form of discourse...
                   painting is either
painted or sold...
              poetry?
                    better untouched
unread rather than commented on.

at least admit that in english there are two digraphs, ch and sh, and that you stop saying: eh ugh ooh... too many consonants; because what's in bold, are actually considered digraphs; although in other languages, the H is replaced with a Z; that's all!

2 maps...
                    just two...
            no, not the mongol
empire,
  or the british empire...
the black death circa 1351 a.d.,
and the modern
           islamic "plague"...
see what region, by the "grace
of god" is un-affected?
            ******* weird, isn't it?
it's like... wow! history repeats
itself!
          i was born three hour's
worth of coach-travel north
from *cracow...
              seems i'm immune
to rats...
           oh, don't worry, there are
no racials issues going
on...
     it's a community manifesto...
a kebab shop owner stabs
a youth... mob rule...
      where? in ełk...
community spirit as in?
   that arab, isn't going to sell
another kebab in the town.
**** on me, another band of
              the "chosen people"...
you fight off the ottoman for
the austrians at vienna, and for
yourself long enough...
      history is pedantic in terms
acquiring current
            stereotypes that have
fallen asleep for a 100 years...
to be later woken, 100 years later...
honestly, on mother-soil,
and not in "exile",
          i'd state that my words
would not have as much potency
in a native spreschen...
              ah... but the glorious
investment in western debate...
    there's talk of bi this trans that,
moving from 1, to 2,
  being bisexual...
     so much concentration on
genitals, rather than the tongue...
could i suggest that bilingualism,
or owning two tongues is
more profitable, than debating
whether a person has two genitals?
seem natural to put the tongue
in terms of hierarchy above
   the genitals...
     larger geographic saturation...
ugh... only a lazy tongue would
rather debate bisexuality
rather than endorse bilingualism;
and in terms of accents?
you have too many! you can't
keep it up!
         not unless you appropriate
accent stressors, to at least
one of your letters...
     most people can discriminate
against your accent likewise,
    cockney shambles that you
are... eating your H and your R...
woe-ah, that's water, in essex.
       ter... ter... terminal... ter...
                     ******* numb-wits.
still, that black plague historical
map, looks mighty odd...
     akin to now, and the spread of islam.
oh boo hoo.

You cut a dashing figure
between em and en and
oh, by the way

Your abbreviated smile
has me wondering what
it stands for

as I place my finger on
your ellipsis … you lead me on,
there is no doubt
I feel left out

But as we track and kern
our forms, ascending,
make ligatures to avoid
an overlap of strokes

a diphthong doth emerge
o’er our line o’ type
and what was once

paragraphed into separateness,
our thoughts juxtaposed

begins to merge
(bind in parentheses)
you’n’me make syncope

and, once the story forms,
the digraphs make shapes
with our mouths.

i already said that i made a mistake:
      hijab            and niqab...
         but hence the q.
                  a question, not a queue
standing outside the kew gardens...
   but this enforced diacritical markings
over j-ay             hey!
                               or iota (ι) -
                                      it's enforced...
why not a candle í of the acute iota?
                      he-dziab = hijab
you don't say hi / high all of a sudden,
followed-up with jab...
                                      the diacritical
**** of iota, can morph into an "umlaut"
whereby i can morph into a "digraph",
i.e.            hi- = ee...
           or simply ē (which is what prolongs
the stress on the letter).
                what could i ever conclude with
having written the following?
    well... the first philosophy book i ever
bought... in camden town,
                  plato's θηæτητυς
  and i do treat eta (η), as if it were epsilon (ε)
with an acute diacritical mark hovering
over it.
             anyway... it only took
                   over two-thousand years of history
to deal with...
          so there's plato's theaetetus: "strange"
how siamese consonants are named digraphs,
while siamese vowels are named graphemes...
   there are more digraphs than graphemes,
  since there are only two graphemes: æ & œ,
            no other variants, i.e., well that's one
to claim, although segregated by . .      and
those are two unique words.
              yet in the theaetetus dialogue,
     socrates is talking about     ******>       so-         (+)            -crat-      (+)     -es,
a syllable broken down into letters (units) -
       but this is the 21st century,
                  and what minor detail occurred in
the 20th century?
                      something similar, i suppose...
the same concerning bringing it down to just
two letters...
                     heidegger's ponderings (iv, 221):
why do i two g's in my name?
                   at first i'd suggest he asks the question
as a case of vanity, but i suspect there's
a question concerning aesthetics of spelling...
   at least in english that's the case,
     the germans write like chemists,
          they compound excessively,
       and they don't hyphenate their words like
their english cousins...
                so he goes on to state why his nickname
is gg (jee-jee)
             g1. güte (benevolence, not pity)
    g2. geduld (patience, supreme will)...
       sure, but why not géduld?
       ah... because that would be frown-ser
(french) - and that would hardly be patience,
       it would be a 35 hour working week...
                       other nations frown and say:
you're ******* lazy!
                     and the french reply: qui-z la
           pita-mont (πíta-mąnt)    /   (we're patient).

η       ε       o       ω      (σ,      ς)
    æ  
א        ע‎       ח       ה‎‎*       and this
  
      is where the fun starts!
             while the greeks have only
one letter given to aesthetic dynamics,
the hebrews?
let's call them from the shadows!

for each greek sigma...
                  a letter that will...
  what do you call that?
                i'm at loss for a noun to describe
two variations of the same letter!

   i don't even think one exists!
      but please... show me the hebrew!
hebrew that the greeks imitated!

  K M N P T                                   & the greek S.

               kaf (כ‎    ך‎‎)
          mem (‎‎‎מ      ם)
         nūn    (נ‎        ן‎)
      pé        (פ‎        ף)
  tsadí      ­(צ‎         ץ‎).

           for one greek letter that does this
sort of behaviour...
                      there are? five hebrew letters!
                
i need to find a noun to describe this...
after all, they're not graphemes, or digraphs...
or perhaps there is a loose association
   associated with these letters being
           digraphs-quasi....
      
             after all, even latin has this:
   but in a loose trinity of     s       c      k
   cyst,
             carmen,
                            kettle,
                     ­                  ah... S the weaver
      of the other two.

         the noun! the noun!
                 i need to known this dynamic!

two songs, when i played guitar, before i shamed it silly into firewood? of my favourites... silverchair's shade, and link wray's rumble... otherwise the standard blues chords... under the bridge? yeah, i could do that... but since: chłopak z gitarą, był by dla mnie parą (a boy with a guitar, would suit me fine)... satan speaks better lies than a woman, so no, no thank you; oh please, knock yourself out... for one honest woman, there are about two male thieves waiting to stalk the night... for one dihonest woman... there are no males in sight.

not much music with atheists...
   jabba jabba jabba joobi job...
alt.?   dziabbah dziabbah
             dziabbah whom serve's
the sneeze's worth of argument...

theists?

  well... at least there's:
    fiddler on the roof...

   either silence, or song...
but conversation?!

   if i were a rich man...

  *yubby dibby dibby
            dibby dibby dibby
   dibby dum...

            i stopped talking after discovering
that english has no diacritical
distinctions... and doesn't treat
ch or sh as digraphs...
          
          this language is ******* barren in
technical terms...
  and then tha natives complain:
ooh, ooh, oog'ah oog'ah... ***** accent... huh ha huh...
******... begin with first base of
encoding your own waggle before
   talking to people about "funny" accents...
to me... you have a funny way of writing
with latin script... it's no wonder you had
an empire, and how suddenly it collapsed...
     by hiding your own diversity of accents,
from scottish, to australian, to south african,
to essex, to cockney, to welsh, to irish...
   yo' faackers r foo-king funny...
                             born 'n' bred... me ayes..
please... show me, a start of diacritical
    implementation on the ancient alphabet...
that you didn't actually invent,
      you're just a ******* stuart of latin...
you're no king, no more than i'm
     a beggar asking to peer into the cipher.

    oi! "adam"! put on some underwear,
dress the language up with some diacritical marks!
oh, oh wait... you can't...
             there are too many variations,
to many necessary exceptions to be made...
    
  y'all like drawl... americana nasal...
        wee *** some knee-jerks aww awound az...
                 wee ginna fwy sum kin-tuck-e
                             chee-ken fighs.
no ketchup i gether...
       n'ah mate...
                           we be coo-kin wi'
   a barbie sáùs;

        oh cool cool, b. dylan's blonde on blonde.

and after writing this, i realised i became confused... subconsciously i must have been screaming: no no no... dawn penn or daddy g ft. melaaz, **** it, the original can't be down-trodden; oh well, sometimes you have to make mistakes... just change the q to a j, and you'll still find the digraph (dz) in a j.

you can easily pronounce this *digraph -
   dz...
              e.g. in the word -   dziadek
     (grandfather) -
you already know how to  pronounce it,
by applying it in the "misnomer"
                that's the word    hiqab -
  hiccup...
                                     (measles) jab...
         and i do stress it's a "         "    misnomer,
because it is just that,
         perhaps a affix could explain
   the confusion further:      
   it really is a case of   quasi-    vs.  pseudo-.
         nurse! scalpel!
                             hi-           -qab...
             cab...
                             stuttering: k k kebab...
                instead:               he-jab!
                    it's not exactly hi qab! qab being
a boy's name.
               so you already know how to pronounce
the digraph, don't ******* me that there
are too many consonants bundled together...
      what's with english then?
            two language in one,
                            you write it one way,
and then pronounce it another way...
                       maybe that's why so few english
people bother to learn a second language,
            well, given that their language is already
   a bilingualism of sorts...
                  say it one way, write it another way...
   clearly not bothering to invite diacritical marks
made the whole syllable syllabus "slightly" daunting;
but i agree, digraphs could disappear one day,
    due to diacritical marks...
                rastafarian man just kept singing:
                                         jah jah dzιádek;
english is a covert language:
                 ****'s perfect for hiding things,
and later finding them, like gravity
                                          or d.n.a.,
                                                         or penicillin.

I was ten weeks
And a day
You were two years eleven weeks
And a day

My mother said
"Just shove the spoon in her mouth!"

"Safety first!"
Wasn't really a mantra for
Our moms

Our lives are a Venn diagram
Like an eclipse

Of plastic play ice cubes
Bobbled from hand to hand
To stave off imaginary frostbite
And tap shoes tied with elastic
To aid in afterschool
In-the-car quick-changes

Of consonant digraphs and isolated syllables
Freed from the missalette
And our expelation
Expelled with elation
From the pew
To the loo
For giggling during the sermon

Of listening to the phone ring
Ten times
Twenty times
Two hundred times
Waiting for an answer
Or the invention
And acquisition
Of an answering machine

And they are Euler circles

Of mothers swapping strollers
Like Garanimal parenting
Matching blue elephants to abandonment and estrangement

Of a career plan spanning decades and
Of decades of unplanned careers
Careening into a pile-up of
"This one time, at this one job . . . ."

Of husbands and babies on one side
And solitude and seeking on the other

But we have always had
Our intersection

Through my scholastic continental pinball of a life
And your need for small spaces
Like a guru on a mountain top
Sought but secure
Our Reuleaux triangle
Is a magnet pulling us
To overlapping searches
For intelligent life and enlightenment
Our radical center
A pile of curling Instamatic photographs
Grainy and greening
Awesomeness and awkwardness and 80's hairstyles
Attempted in spite of our curls

Our intersection where
224-3628 and 226-6202
Meshed and became a difference of two

The sameness of experience
The polarization of exploration
And the return to

Ravioli
Malfatti
French bread
And family we build on a foundation of

Fifty-one years four months two weeks
And a day