not drunk enough to listen to classical music,
i dwell in stinking bogs of cheese and pop,
gorgon zoella and tartan elbow patches
on my suede dinner jacket persona.

london, the great stink of 1858,
even the mayor of the city of london opposed
bazalgette's proposal for sewers,
saying he knew more about perfumery
than the parisian prostitutes,
said: '**** stinks for applause!'
well, we didn't get applause from the public,
but a mexican wave of some aztec king
playing the puppets of arousal:
monetaryzoomah the 2nd...
well there's that my sudden compromise:
i always loved organic chemistry,
i was really good at it,
but organic chemistry seemed futile in theory
with too much emphasis on tic-tac-toe
of those migrating diagrams,
trying to enforce the atomic visible
represented by C (carbon) attached to H (hydrogen)
with a tail of a carboxylic categorisation
O= (doubly bonded oxygen) and OH (the alcohol
bit), ****** futile... i just loved cooking
anaemic potions of clear like water,
sometimes scented, sometimes like sulphuric chick farts,
it was basically cooking, i didn't like physical
or inorganic chemistry, actually, university
almost felt like a museum, we weren't students
we were tourists, we were showed the basics,
the impracticalities of later application,
i was never asked to make a bottle of shampoo,
or a toothpaste, or a perfume, i was asked to
recreate theories and cul de sacs of application,
yet actual chemistry is your hoarding of chemical
products in the bathroom: starting with bleach...
never learned how to make bleach...
shame really... the workforce of chemists isn't
given a fair start, no mechanic implication:
ok ok, i'm not into having an existential crisis
in my early twenties, can you just make me robotic
so i can provide the instruments of dentistry
and hairdressing? no? well, here comes an existential
crisis aged 21...
but organic chemistry is still the bomb...
like that onion i smashed after it was dipped
in liquid nitrogen... felt like moses with the two
tablets thrown onto the ground... or a pirate's X...
here...
            it will begin and end *here.
so every time i cook i think of an organic chemistry
experiment, although i've learned that cooking
is a more colourful chemistry, and poly-scented too,
today i made shanghai style braised pork belly
(CHONG SHAO ROU),
sugar, light and dark soya sauce, kashmiri chilli powder,
ginger-garlic paste (plenty of it), spring onions,
oil, balsamic vinegar (good if you don't have shaoxing
rice wine, same ****, different cover)...
cup or two of water... and then watching the water
evaporate and all the active ingredients starting to
cling to the pork belly slices, making it look
as if coated in glistening flour... nunchuks finger licking
smooth... yeah, i eat chinese cuisine using
nunchuks rather than chop sticks...
even comrade mao tse-tung would approve,
after al chong shao rou was his favourite dish.
in addition: **** remembering poems and scaring
children... remember recipes; job done.

I’m not going to make money by
Creating some clever gadget.
That costs too much for advertising
To fit in my future budget.
I’m not going to write a book yet
Because they are hard to sell.
I decided against self-help seminars.
Sitting through those is hell.

I’m not going to learn hairdressing
So I can be a pricey hair ******.
I’m not going to write recipes to show
A hundred ways to use a blender.
I ruled out auditioning for **** flicks
I’m far to shy for all that.
I won’t be trying to make viral videos
Of adorable fuzzy little cats.

You won’t be hearing any hit songs
Written by me, myself and I.
I can’t carry a tune and can’t rhyme
So, right away I won’t even try.
I can’t paint and I can’t draw at all
So, I won’t be a world-class artist.
I won’t become a rocket scientist
In math I was never the smartest.

I'm not going to start some con game
And leave them all in the lurch.
Well, in a manner of speaking I am,
Because I'm starting a church.
I’ll spend tons of money on my home
And make a big flashy cathedral
Then spend lots of time bragging
How it’s all so very spiritual.

People will send me lots of cash thinking.
That will get them into heaven.
I’ll make more money selling God to them
Than owning a thousand 7-11s.
I’ll only need to convince my followers that
I have the get-out-of-hell-free card;
That I am the path to understanding God
And that just can’t be that hard.

there's a man with no life in his eyes,
                                  there's a man with no life in his eyes.

it had been a long time since i wrote mediocre poems,
without a sedative, overtly sensitive  and too self-conscious
for my liking, unlike all others: under the influence of
a more potent Bacchus elixir, as is due further
north, building up on some sort of ethnic
mythology - it's just that i know it's not actually
self-consciousness, but precautionary measures,
in the sense: i can't be ridiculous - i remember
reading the poetry foundation and knew it was
poetry straight from the coffee houses and tea parties:
no ridiculousness and certainly more sensitivity;
i haven't been down this alley for a long long time;
and it's bothersome, just a little, just a little
too much for me: a poet with a repertoire of 6 accessible
poems to browse over, a poet in residence at some
university, but only a repertoire of 6 accessible poems
to browse over - so much love on the page, so much
nature, so many relationships, religiosity, living,
hobbies, art...
                        i can only refer to my porcelain doll eyes,
i remember when that one word was whispered
into my ear, i was at a party in Edinburgh, promise
of a lively affair, psychotically shopped in a clothes
shop buying all the cotton glitters of fine prints...
but at the party i ended up a potato sack like hood
made from hemp - the minute that word was whispered
into my ear, an electricity ran through me entirely,
my eyes rolled back and a mini-epileptic shiver shook
me yet enabling me to still stand - the mini seizure
stopped and the porcelain eyes were revealed for me
to peer from behind - i seemed to have lost the depth of those
prior eyes masqueraded youth, naiveness, hope,
a bearable kind of expression of love and solidarity,
ambition, jubilation at physical exertion: the basic tenets
for a thirst for life... but everything changed in a flash of
lightning... i rushed out from the party in rage...
walking from the door of the party (an apartment, below
which were shops) i smashed the window to a hairdressing
shop... run into an alley, and threw everything from my
pockets on the floor: coins and a polish citizen card...
after all i wasn't exactly in favour of holding a dual-
citizenship... then certain things revealed and certain
hidden, audacity over scholarly dogmatism, comparison:

surah al-baqarah
ألف      لام      ميم
a         l        m
l         ā         ī
i        m       m
f                                                  seen this sort of code
                                                    in a preceding book...
                                                    hmm, where did i see it?

                                         ah!
                                                 Χ          ξ         ς
                                                 c           x         s
                                                 h           i          i
                                                 i                     (g
                                                              ­          m
                                                     ­                    a)...
"         "        "
but then there's another
                           صاد
                             s'
                             ā
                             d
                                           as there is also
"          "       راء
                     r
                     ā                    and however many variations,

but the principle is the same as the encryption in
the greek book... oh man, i wish i could write cool stuff,
about nature and all that stuff about being macho on
Machu Picchu with a boyscout survival guide...
i just can't rub of my initial indoctrination to a certain
degree with a religion, up to the age of sixteen we
used to prayer in the morning, the *our father drilled
into us - hence i justify my interest in these matters
because of that - just spotting one thing following through
to another with a similarity - you can hardy deny
the Quran is not following from what was established prior,
although that's where my interest ends...
just looks like another jigsaw puzzle... i just haven't
seen any literature on the topic... and i'm not going to
transliterate hebrew, for that numbers game whereby
the original Gematria meaning i already described about
the geometry of letters, and how they all fit through
O... the open mouth... M can fit through the mouth
and also turn into a bee caught between the lips,
and can also be lodged in the larynx when you hearing
mumbling with the mouth closed.

jak sie nie ma co sie lubi, to sie lubi, co sie ma / if you don't have what you'd like, you like, what you have.

my maternal uncle (brother
of my grandmother)
used to collect beer bottles...
now i wish
    i didn't start to collect
cigarette packets...
           i know, pretty much as
"nerdy" as collecting postage
stamps (you should see
my grandfather's collection...
pretty impressive...
     i think he owns a yuri
gagarin special edition) -
anyway...
    it came as a shock when
i was buying tobacco
  at the supermarket once
upon a time (2 months ago) -
the packaging, the packaging!
it's so ugly!
     you sure i'm in a supermarket
and not in a russian gulag?
marmite lungs,
   coughing blood,
black and white all over
areas, all over...
           they really know how
to put people out their jobs
when trying to
           redesign packaging,
don't they?
luckily though... luckily!
i'm in possession of the last
of the last...
   an empty packet of
   *benson & hedges (gold)...
that's a keeper...
    i'm not giving this one
up...
   i'll use whenever i have ten
remaining in
that ugly packaging,
      and take it into town,
and turn into a peacock...
look'e 'ere... see,
     original packaging,
dating from the year 2016...
     but like with anything
you drink... esp. the whiskeys...
it's nice to read an anecdote
printed on the bottle...
  the benson & hedges packet?
nothing like it is now...
  in the old days
you know:
   (a) sourced from premium
                  golden virginia tobaccos
  (b) consistently rich & smooth
          taste
(c) as approved by apache chief
    naked-****-pointing-at-the-moon
   & his distant half-cousin
the sioux chief hairdressing-wind;
  but there's also
(d) the british american
                         tobacco group
   and there's also and address
  so you can send them fan mail
(e) old bond street, london.
  smoking used to be fun,
well, it still is... if you managed to keep
one of these of packets
          of cigarettes...
now i wish i still had a packet
of yella' camels...
                 or the red marlboros,
oh well.

My One True Love Maria Downs,
I Love You And No Other Girl,
So When The Girls In Your Hairdressing Class At College Said Your Boyfriend Is Sat With Bev,
Remember What I Told You At The Bus Stop?
When We Were Snuggling And I Was Kissing Your Neck?
I Said I Had Missed You All Day?
And You Turned And Said What The Girls Had Said?
Remember I Looked You In The Eyes And Said; It's You I Love?
Then I Went Back To Snuggling And I Was Kissing Your Neck Again?
And You Kissed Me With A Cosmic Kiss That Knocked My Socks Off,
When We Were Sat Kissing On The Bus Together,
We Were LOVERS,
We Were LOVERS,
We Were LOVERS.

Kisses for Judith
Cars for Ken
Paints for Children
Starters for ten
Shoes for ladies
Gadgets for men
Stereotypical
Is life
Until when
Shoes for Arthur
Cars for Grace
Overalls for Martha
Jeremy in lace
Curlers for Brian
Football for June
The world is changing
Under a distant moon
A bodyguard is Debbie
Hairdressing for Steve
Coffee and nibbles
A change to New Year’s Eve
Bus driving for Sarah
Day care fun for Pete
School run for James
Coach driving for Siobhan
Business meeting for Amber
House cleaning for John
Everything has changed these days
We all just muck in as one