I New York City;

i en afgangshal med himmelrum og stjerner som loft hopper en gruppe asiatiske piger i takt med højtaler announcements på deres side humper en krop forbi iklædt pink handsker og pink sko glaskrystaller i øjnene én enkelt glaskrystal for enden af stokken under det højthængende flag overhaler jakkesæt og mappedyr turister og gamle mennesker og små børn og alle dem der        altid bliver overhalet


I New York City;

på en gade der krydser med en anden ser jeg høje sko på det vinteroptrukne asfalt snefnug sætter sig fast i nyopsatte frisure jeg hører lyden af én enkelt hæl  der fastlåses i sprækkerne mellem fortovskanten og én flise der optræder mønstre i fortovets cement      mon alle på Manhattan bærer høje hæle i vintermånederne?


I New York City;

alle blikkene kører som elevatorer         op og ned
jeg tager trapperne op på perronen og jeg møder flere blikke



altid dette i New York City; (og alle andre steder)

blikke
blikke
øjne der løber op og ned af kroppe

min krop, der er så kold.


I New York City;

*
jeg går og jeg går jeg befinder mig på L, M og F toget jeg er på Union Square    igen  
jeg er på upper East Side køber franske bøger til et fransk-amerikansk oplæsnings-arrangement Rien ne s’oppose à la nuit, og New York City du viger heller ikke for natten ikke for blikke   ikke for nogen.

damals meinte bonez:
"ey wir sind bald stars!

und jeder aus der gruppe übernimmt
sein'n part" (he)

er hat zu mir gesagt:
"setz dich hin, schreib bars! (los)

"denn von den meisten
gangsterrappern stimmt kein satz!" (nä)


back in the days bonez
told me:

"we gonna be stars
every one of us
gonna write his part" (nä)

he told me to sit down and write
bars (aight)

cause german rappers be
phony (nä)

kissing a prostitutes hand after
giving her an ******,
   will always be deemed more
spectacular then being slapped
in the face while being
in a relationship of being
   falsely accussed of visiting
   your grandparents as being
   synonymous of: having a one
on the side...
                    (a) i'm not that pretty
  and that's not a mark of self-loathing...
with (b) if english is a language
built upon top-hats and pedantry
where's the N to catch one's breath
on the siamese return to graphemes
with:                a one... huh?
         some would say: an atom bomb,
none would subsequently
   make an argument from:
                                  a atom bomb...
with the advancing technological
perversity,
              it's only necessary to discover
a technicality in language,
   a "subversion" set by
               the rules of grammar...
well: if a butterfly can freely flutter
in a tornado,
   and there can be coffee-table talk
of a sub- and an unconscious...
               this "thing" is standing
on toothpicks or something?
               the undiscovered
reality of grammar...
    the "subconscious"
                      sorterienspreschen....
well with such abominations
of gruppe-denken...
           and gedanke-verbrechen...
you might as well travel
   to st. petersburg and admire
petrus die groß private collection
          of pickled abortions.
- with a tongue that was once
the "primitive" hammer,
        i allowed myself to use:
     (there is no prerogative
pronoun usage to mind on the basis
of per se)...
      alternatively the thought
   concerning an attempt to craft
paragraph in poetry -
     to rework a post scriptum
   beginning with: hyphen;
  otherwise the all too easy
modern hieroglyphics of :)
       ****... let's play this game...  
             it's debilitating to
think that hebrew undermined
   both hieroglyphics
and cuneiform... with stubborn
latin morphing into a 2nd
phase of utility...
       whatever excuse there is...
there's still the asian ideogram
format,
         and sanskrit...
                   from an early age i
was taught the proverb surrounding
democracy:
    well... if i can't play in your
sand-pit... i'll play in someone else's...
    or what "we" like to mind:
the article of pluralism is
equivalent to the article of possession...
    i.e. S...
                which is very close
to being reasonable,
            given...                    a point.
i didn't mention that kissing
a *******'s hand after *******
is much better than
        being slapped in the face
while in a relationship?
         i must have...
       amnesia begs to differ though
(vou).
  
   p.s. i can only make language
complicated to craft a mimic replica
of modern technology,
   and that's an intra-personal trait...
inter-personally?
          sure, i believe lubricants
exist:
           but this is not a manifesto
that crafts a patent for mob rule
in the comment section...
      to borrow from Descartes...
     a practice in extending
      to mind the fact that grafitti
tags didn't write themselves
   out of thin air.