Secrets secrets secrets
I know all your stories
Your insecurities
Your dark side

Secrets secrets secrets

Some you told me
Some that other guy told me
Some I overheard
Others I have acquired illicitly

Secrets secrets secrets

I hold your reputation
And your mental stability
And your trust
In my hands

Secrets secrets secrets

I am trustworthy
And that's a good thing
But who hasn't made bad choices before?

Secrets secrets secrets

You know some of mine
Think you know all of mine
You could crush me bit by bit
but in the wrong hands,

Secrets secrets secrets

Are nothing but a truce between frenemies
Like two loaded guns
Aimed at eachother
Smiling, but set to **** if necessary.

Secrets secrets secrets

Are they really secrets at all?
Are you sure you know me?
Whispers run rampant here.

We are straight lines
powdery and sharp,
carved into perfection.
We sit next to each other
forever
without touching.

Threw a couple benzos in the mix yesterday
which was very unlike me, but it paid off;
The time was spent at a good friend's house.

Started with clonazolam (not to be confused
with clonazpam), this designer benzodiazepine
is as potent as xanax but with a longer duration
of between 6-10 hours. Abuse often leads to blackout
states and it has been dis-affectionately nicknamed 'clam'.
Being cautious of any compound active in the microgram range,
At first I ingested only a fifth of the illicitly pressed tablet.
It had light but noticeable effects which cooled my mind enough
that I consider dipping my toe in my preferred class of compound.

Perhaps an hour later I insuffulated 2mg
of 2,5-Dimethoxy-4-methylthioamphetamine,
Better known as DOT, the first of the Aleph series.
This produced a bare threshold of effects, including
minor thought acceleration (to counter the benzo)
and a hint of warmth throughout my body.
I left it at that. It is a good sign for future inquiries
into that rather mysterious series of compound.

Later still, I wrestled with whether or not to try another benzo
which was gifted to me when I mentioned I had never tried it.
Chlordiazepoxide, in this case going by the brand name Librium.
Prescribed to treat anxiety, insomnia and symptoms of withdrawal,
It has a half-life of between 5-30 hours. However,
An active metabolite of chlordiazepoxide (and also diazepam)
is nordiazepam - active for between 36-200 hours.
Can you imagine taking a drug which lasts eight days?
Hence my hesitation.
After some consideration (fifteen minutes of quick research
followed by fifty minutes of feeling the psychological weight
of the pill on my palm), I ingested a small black and blue capsule
marked "LIB 10mg". Of course, such a small amount
would not be in my system for so long.

Shortly thereafter two of us went down to the shop.
I floated through the isles, settling upon a carton of apple juice.
A slight but nonetheless uncommon feeling of happiness struck
me during our walk back. The fresh air was good, I could feel
the vague comfort of distinct experience. Perhaps this reads
as if it's nonsense, and I know it, but a sensation reached
out to me from my past, recognition of the pattern of being
I was currently pursuing, a mindset.
I suggested we split a small dose
of an exotic trip I'd been saving.

It's duration was appropriately
short, 3-6 hours. We ate 7.5mg
of 5-Methoxy-N,N-diallyltryptamine,
Commonly referred to as 5-MeO-DALT.
I believe I have had the honor of bestowing
upon it the colloquial name Foxtrot.

It probably did not effect us much,
I certainly could barely distinguish its
effects in the mix. Silly of me really, I don't
even like benzos, I had just been in a bad place
recently; this session reminded me I did not need
to escape anything, everything I once loved
is within reach. I'd give some credit for that insight
to the influence of psychedelics, despite the
quieting presence of axiolytics. Ultimately,
Insight is not a product of any drug. It stems
from experience, and no substance can dispute
the immutable metaphysics of mind,
Whatever its form may be.

Someone said your eyes were like crystals
I say they are exquisite diamonds that make you sparkle
For even though my station of poverty is cruel,
You are now and always my most precious jewel

To be beholden by your golden charms at leisure
Brings me daily so much pleasure,
Each time you glide into view
As an angel on gilded wings of air.

You persuaded me illicitly with your smile
So captivating it entrapped and dangled keys to a cage of fate,
Where I grin beyond its iron gates,
Here I am yours truly, the world’s happiest prisoner.

For this prison of fate holds and subjugates
My fickle heart to your powers innate,
At any time you could with one wink command me to remain
Enslave me with your iridescent eyes to tame, in your domain

When you speak,  little bells register in my head and echo in my heart
Striking me sharper than Japanese swords... your romantic words
And love, our hearts greatest reward, comes forward so delicately,
Shored and anchored by respect.......... pure in every aspect

Treating your fickle heart as gently it deserves,
Yet how cruel thou art to taunt me this way,
To withhold thy love until now........ all this bliss I missed,
Knowing you could transform my world with a kiss.

Thus you pulled my heart from an Abyss,
Stripping me and burnishing my feelings with happiness,
The freedom of innocence and youth come back as the only truths,
The truth is I would give it all to have just only you.

Over thinking
about nothing and spiralling deeper
and deeper into a vast and useless
consciousness is just another form of suicide
that you hear about on the internet.

I'm not bringing myself down into the dirt
again this time just because it's a better
point of view for
you. I know I'm just here for when
your stability gets too boring, and I'm a
liar now
because I shouted to the world from
rooftops and
illicitly whispered on street
corners that I was done
complaining.

And yet here I am, and here you are,
looking at me in the dirt. It's in my eyes
and now you look like it, too.

I guess I'm not strong yet
and I could try to twist this whole
situation into something desirable
and exotic and beautiful, but I will end up
hating those words. Tears don't
water the seeds of new beginnings and
despair isn't just a mask
that will one day wash
off, when in reality
it's your face
that you try to pry off every
evening while looking in the mirror.

Surrendering is violent.
And yet
even soldiers
must rest.

Our butterflies, and sweet, rosebuds,
Languishing lazily within a dream,
Once together, but now lost forever,
In fading memory’s drifting stream.

We shared every pleasure, she and I,
Two girls embracing, love so sweet,
Tasting our butterflies and rosebuds,
Consuming our passion’s, *****-heat.

We explored all nature had to offer,
Sun-drenched glades, darkened woods,
Fantasising, and illicitly tantalising,
Our butterflies, and sweet, rosebuds.

Unexpectedly he has been cracked



Squarely across his dainty skull



Inevitably to his knees he languishes



Supplemented by a concussion



Havoc is illicitly wreaked upon the delicacy



Of this young man's psyche



As another swift, sucker punch is executed



Stylishly into his jawbone



Followed by an unforeseen series



Of frenzied jabs to the nose



The anguish screams through the brooks



Of crimson oozing from his nostrils



While a dangerous haymaker



Shockingly arises from thin air



Sinking fiercely into his cornea



Rupturing the veins in his eyeball



A circular crown of black envelops



The entire surface of his left eye



Oh, the gruesome consequences of



Applauding the eminence of nonexistence



A truculent knockout that will truly



Abduct one into an eerie coma



And rightfully deliver them back to



The portion of reality where they belong

My heart is a honeycomb
Riddled with many small spaces,
Each one a placeholder
For pieces I gifted to you.
I remember each moment of gifting.
The first; your birthday party,
You walked me to the bar and gazed on me with wonder
Before revealing more than you should, frankly and without fear
or expectation.
Later that night,
You slipped your hand illicitly into the warm space just above my knees
And breathed a longing sigh.
I took your hand away and held it in my own,
Closing your fingers around the first piece of my heart.
The first time we kissed, I had hidden another piece under my tongue
And it melted into yours.
When you told me I was beautiful
And proved that you really thought so,
You found a piece in what you gazed upon
And it burned itself onto your retinas, indelible - my hearts branding.
There were many other offerings,
And by the time it all collapsed around us,
My heart was barely able to sustain me,
I had offered almost all I could,
The final offering would have destroyed me.
I suppose I should be glad I never had to make it,
But I am a poor version of myself now;
A heart riddled with holes,
And nothing to show for all that I gave up.
You have so much of my heart, with you
I wonder if you feel it beating?
I wonder, if each little piece,
Now bleeding, and yearning to return,
Shares that yearning with you?
Is your heart bleeding, in sympathy, too?

There is nothing left to say. You declared with audacity how I was an impediment. I recollected how pitiable I was, desperate for nothing, because it wouldn't, it didn't alter anything. So enamored was I with you, I relinquished half of myself to appease you. The superior parts of me I surrendered willingly to you, as I permitted myself to become illicitly compliant in the scheme of deceiving myself. I believed the half-truths, the falsehoods, and the empty promises. You made a wreck of me, exposing me to such debasingly immoral things. I thought I could trust you after everything we shared. I never knew such passions; I never felt such care. How was I to know none of it was genuine?

Time has elapsed, and I have healed. I have moved on, not as swiftly as you, and it didn't take another to get me here. So, the emails, the texts, the contacting my family needs to cease. It doesn't matter if I'm single. What mattered was that I had so much fight in me to save us I was a willing participant, my own collateral damage when it came to you. I allowed so much and pleaded for so long for you to see me, to love me as I did you. Like you once used to. The fool I played, for it wasn't love at all. It wasn't even lust; it was mere 'usage.' I contorted myself to fit into your world. I reinvented myself to a lower self in place of the worldly woman I once was. I infringed on my intellect and played dumb, forever the fool, all for you. And it still wasn't enough. You told me I was too strong, too independent, and so I diminished myself. My integrity be ******, I lowered my standards and discarded my boundaries to please you. All for what? For you to do exactly what I implored you not to do: to toy with me, to lie and deceive, to harm and torture, to manipulate and abuse. And even then, it wasn't enough. I was never enough.

No matter now. I have healed myself, and I have moved on. How wonderful it is to see I am nowhere near where I used to be, and the me I am today you'll never get close to. So, for all the attempts at contacting me and wanting to talk, I must let it be known I have nothing left to say!

When the breeze is stagnant and the water is
still, maybe this is
a sign you should look up,
because if this world can stop the wind in
it's tracks, imagine what it could
do to the air in your lungs.
How many times have you pulled grass out of the ground while pondering what went wrong
Maybe if you listened harder to the breeze you could understand its telling you to never find comfort in boys who find more happiness in illicitly filled baggies than you
It could take me walking an entire desert to know
Love is not quite as easy as quicksand
and the more you try to keep your arms free,
the closer you'll be to missing something, but I'll always be walking

I was indifferent
to the hot winds of May
As I busily made my way
Toward a higher ground;
To a quiet place where
I would stoke a slow burn --
A place to rejuvenate
In motion;
To find release and
Refine…
To beckon my strength
Return.

And there, in the midst of my striving,
I heard her draw near.

My attention arrested, enthralled;
The moment nigh with grace profound.
From that familiar hum and thump of Life:

Now…

I might be blinded by my faith in
Things unseen…
I may be short-sighted in my
Ever-present need,
But I swear I saw you smile at me
And your look lingered
Illicitly.

Her golden face, her glance, her grace,
Her stride reached inside of me.
My breath was caught dead, my mind
Rapt in expectation of a spirit that seems
Ancient. I received her gift with urgent longing.

Oh, what a moment to be touched from within!
Time stood frozen, suspended on the point of a needle,
And all things were held in the grip of a gaze,
Seized by her angelic brilliance.

Now…

I am undone by the
Sign and wonder
Of this woman.
How her form and fire
Captivates and beguiles,
Bewitched in desire.
Raptured in sheer mesmeric
Separation
From that quiet place of self.

And I was taken away on a hot wind in May.
She lit a slow burn that rises.

A glance, a gaze and a gift
Surprises.

Her smile…

Walking towards you
prudently, lighting
my bones, like candles
in dark.

For salvation. The
lone cobbler cheats on you.
He has placed the rough bricks
instead of cobblestones to cover
the surface.

Healer has become
avenger. Illicitly― drinks
from the ****** eyes, to
be called a survivor.

The cadaver vanishes.
There was no death of
any Fakir. Only flower bed―
will be the last darshan.

You win the battle, waging
inside you and
forget your name.

What are you wanting?
I’d like to move on
Why are you wanting
Another one.
My heart does miss you
There’s a hole where you were
You awakened my spirit
And now you’re not there.
You’ll answer a call
And tell me you miss me
You’re still in your home
But dreaming of life with me
What am I wanting?
I need this resolved
I can’t do it illicitly  
That bothers my soul.
Almost a year on
And I still feel you with me
I want you to stand up
Take on responsibility.
Make your decisions
Make them out loud
Love me or leave me
Please decide now.
And if you decide,
That you will try loving me
Please know I’m a prize
I wont be so easy
I’d be willing to try
But not throw it in for you
You’d need to earn trust
And that may be tough to do.

Holding hands and handing demands to our hearts and our heads. My fingers tap illicitly across your palm into the sheets. The ceiling is blown open and the stars
are ours.

it wasn\t a fear of losing out working outside
the stadium
like a silver horse
wizened
and not a football safe atmosphere
of inside violence
and hate but beyond football
the old tribes of europe still walk from door to door

and now looking into
the repertoire of Beyonce on my own
the day after i drank a little bit too much
and what did Martin do when
he lived with him mumma
and i wonder why did he do what he did
that philosophical explosion of the mind
and thus in the body dwarfed
a state that only Death and call Nirvana...
while i'm travelling home
and on the way i picked up my father's fathers' fathers
bones
and i could not hear the music
because there was like an external overtone
to the live music: there was the American Anthem
medley breaking in
because i just didn't like Renaissance but
i tell you Cowboy Carter is a testament
of a solid artist,
and i'm pretty sure Martin retired working
in security
really lazy work
i think if he only thought of that work life path
and life of mine will go on
i will write about and bridge the distance between
river and the prism of the surf
greeting earth
like fire greeting air...
being able to breathe
but also rock that breathed....
and even cooler oh right covers covers
weaving a new breed of music
musicians making music listening to music
like poets writing poetry
after reading poetry
                              all my internal misery
i sometimes think about breaking into
tears spontaneously
away tearing away from everything sober
and sane
because it seems there's no longer a god
to be sought
      but a friend unto my self: in the distance
dot of ego somewhere in the matrix of god
like the search engine Caesar...

because there was the drudgery of work
but all that human interaction
from a para-police or something
how there are rules to the roads
and to places where people congregate to celebrate
now i'm choking
with the words with the stink of these pages
i need to find a point to relax
yes
a much better concert
i didn't miss out i worked a beyonce concert
as a steward before
i was quickly promoted to supervisor
without a SIA BADGE
which is the basic stage of going up
being promoted in a high-viz jacket
like it was anything but fixing the pipes
and the sewers in the end
with the grump of man
and all those riches elsewhere
or perhaps that memory PTSD
of Manchester
                                and the potential
i didn't miss much
i worked one concert on entry level
enjoying myself
with eagle eyes of the cctv movie...

well... it's clear...
Beyonce > Taylor Swift
i think that little miss R
could become a fan
when she grows up
maybe i should just play some Beyonce
on the radio over there
when doing something
like work
i didn't listen to any music when i was
working
i think that what stressed me out
the most
i think i was scary how i didn't listen
to any music
when i was there
               over on Kauai
like i didn't take that part of me over there
i think Grandma listened to music
the radio
but i mean we can't listen to Hawaiian
radio
we have to make our own radio
i wonder if Reyla could playlists
for us three
one mix tape with our favorite songs
and she could
but it just dawned on me i could have been
listening to music when doing
the plumbing
replacing the faucet
and working on the lanai
taking apart that massive cupboard
that just stood there haunting
but why didn't i listen to music when
doing those menial tasks
the menial medium of hands
and eyes and perhaps mind piercing
calm measured with a tanglement
of raw physical ****** or the frustration fruit
and now the GENIUS
RADIO INTERLUDE
RADIO INTERLUDE
then lightning a cigarette
a bit like when the Offspring
oh jeez i've been to the concert
and it was a perfect idea i was working so so hard
i was working working so hard
for the real honey i mean i need to get a--t-shirt
i'm a fan **** i'm a fan i'm a fan
oh **** me i'm a fan this album is like
me being 15 again listening to some prog rock
and wow i'm a fan

i was going to walk in on the concert
but then i got some good accoustic
outside
so i went and bought myself three hot spicy
wings and one thigh
and some mayo and ketchup with some dr pepper
on White Hart Lane....
Hart Lan... White Harts... Richmond F.C.
i would start Richmond F.C. (north) somewhere
in Enfield...                      just an imaginary
consumption
     but oh dear... there are 27 songs on the album

BODYGUARD is
my secret best song...
    i was the bodyguard or some sort of guard
but as a song... it's so pop it's so neu-pop
neu-pop amazing rhythm oh my god an ******
all these girls walking about but
i am now seeing with a filter of marriage
so just the groove of the urban jungle
a little mermaid event when Poseidon
comes to wrestle with Zeus over who has
the right to what season
Hades chose Winter
and where is Our Sister:           GAIA
there was Zeus Hades Poseidon and Gaia
because they had drawn the four
seasons between them
poseidon took spring and all the rains
to rain on zeus' summer parade at Wimbledon
joke... ******* on it...
the events of man in the warm months
unlike the winter months
where sports dominate our coping mechanism
with the banality of life
sports to survive in winter
but concerts in the summer
collectively: to keep ourselves sober and sane
and arriving at some point *****:
because the song bodyguard is just that...

well indeed it then becomes this gargantuan
realization that it's no longer a poem
but its own self i am only the tip of the fingers off of
because there's no more of that empty hurt
clearly a sharp focus because
i thought i told you i was bemused
by my pay raise without changing uniform
you know like i am a secret manager
a hands on
in security i think that the roles security
don't work hand in hand with the "underclass"
or the logistics men
i greatly respect
but i mean a mix of the two roles being the brawl
i can show you how i can work with objects
please don't put me in charge of response units
let me show you how strong i am
don't bring me into crab fights and ape farts
i don't like those emotions
but you get what i mean
i was working two matches in april
i worked one sitting back like a security supervisor
but second day i had a revelation
and incorporated parts of logistics into security
a joint role
                                 i know those guys probably
have records but i can't be too sure
so yeah point being
i took care of the arches and batteries
and the fencing...  
and today my idea came to fruition and i was thinking
about inverting the ratio of cueing queue
ing  
                           i'm sort of working for a contractor
let him become a sub-contractor on our books
we like working with him
he has good ideas and how to implement them
he has become a changed man
so i mean i can't explain the
up on my wages i was on $18
but now i'm working for $27 an hour...
i am working as a sub-contractor for Tottenham
and that contract was fought for on my behalf
by some manager at the company the other company
i'm working with:
like just please explain it
why i am "working for tottenham"
but actually working for a different company
it would seem but thanks to them
i must have got that raise and no one even told
me about it... but it's easy math
for 10h i am getting $270:
they are those kind of hours
but that's sporadic
like 4 times in only a certain month
whether june july or august
depending on how the concert season operates
but couldn't you possibly be told about a pay rise
no one tells you?
but you see it on paper              hmm:
could it be that pay rises
well this is my first
that's covertly in my hand and wallet
i wonder
                                   because prior to whenever
i got a pay rise it was only a numbers game
so not really of the matter
and told: oh just a little pay rise... either $2 or $1 or $3
per hour depending on "qualification"
an SIA license costs around $1000 so get a $1
pay rise...
but                an NVQ certificate
    well... that's a pay rise of $2-$4 and sometimes
even $7 i was once a quadrant manager
     at Wembley                 and i think i worked for $21
but that was a one off and someone called off
an hour before the event and i was pushed into
it...                                      but that was like speedy
gonzee and Gonzo journalism as they call it

because i don't think i ever wrote poetry about work
and working and money
and a literary realism beyond prior known about
the nature of work and how writing is yet more work
and in that work there can be work
that has nothing worth containing art poetry and learning
language
                            away from children
but indeed Bukowski               about but merely licked
the topic
                      but maybe it was that sort
of time and that sort of work like being a postman
but i can't imagine being a postman today
unlike say captains of container ships travelling
across the seas
    or those strapped to lighthouses and madness
                 but of work it can be said:
that...                                                  wh­at
a strange eerie and stranger forest
    inscribed in it the words arbeit macht frei....
                               this album is illicitly making this
allusion in its grandeur...

SPAGHETTI
         SPAGHETTI              oh yes: this is where
it came from the African-American
lets face it whenever European came walked hand
and chain to the African
                            at some point there were
kings and queen of europe and africa
but how many monarchies are still in africa?
Morocco Eswatini (Swaziland, formerly known)
                                 Lesotho
and all that African-American energy of a woman
just a specific woman like her
in the voice and rhythm
yeah                                           so much appeal
i remember being asked by a friend in our early
20s why didn't taylor swift type
tiny girl
had no feminine vibe i understood i could
have translated
i have stuff to do tomorrow so i am not going
to lounge around:
i can't just stay at home:
i'll probably just go out walking so i spend more time
outside the house
but only because i have an aversion
to cycling
because i remember dreaming of thinking
that using your legs for swimming would
be the same as the very cerebral experience
of driving a manual car
i mean:
it seems like an ancient art these days
maybe that's why i waited so long with my driving license!
maybe that's the secret why i waited so long
so long to get a driving license!
to have enough drivers out there only being
able to drive automatic cars
and here i am                    a manual driver
i get the feel of a manual car
and it's so amazing it's a drug
i mean it's a drug when you get it just right
and try to pretend the driving instructor
is sitting there with you
   when you just get the gears in proper motion
and you get to feel the car like
you might a super horse
and how different
the horses used to be steered using our heels
but now we have horse or rather the four horses
and duck feet... flat under the fingers
the positioning of the feet on the three blunts
is like prepping your hands for QWERTY of able to
look at screen and not at the keyboard
seeing the words and not really the letters
seeing the words but not really the letters...
and here's to giving up smoking again
maybe this time for real
i think i can do that
if i can stage such a good shift
i mean i felt i was central
and the manager worked with me
and sort of taught me so maybe next time
i will have that spot outside the Coliseum
truly that can be a yay moment

                            thought it was Miley Cyrus
but didn't want to say it
so a duet it is and                how many words can
drop in between songs and thinking
about the breaks thinking about the breaks
recovering from all that:
but if i could focus on work yesterday
so the excesses i could find in Manchester If
a crazed testimony of hero could
have been so a downer on the poetry unless it
became more and more obscure
for that too is very relevant: because of
shotgun shotgun
being a downer
   a real downer of a song

SHOTGUN < skipped skipped never
to be found on rewind
                                  back to the theme of cougar
cowgirl and cowboy
but i was in the role of actor in a role
                         because i don't think i was an actor
because no one seemed authentic
but rather prolific                               rxage
                                    solid ink of naked rage: in a cage
some return to form with the lyrics Levi Jeans
i think that's how the song goes
but i didn't fall in the garden i just kicked the light off
i didn't drink to the point of not remembering
if i fell into the trees and breaking them:
no, i kept form because i knew i would have to
write
oh boy boy
Beyonce can admire a former older singer
but all her duets with women are ugly
but when beyonce does a duet with a male
oh boy boy all the best of her comes out
but i didn't get the older sister vibe
                              with                        "Meryl­ Streep"
(look-alike)
                
              maybe an hour has passed
and in it
                                              all that is contained in an
album
        i wonder how the album translated into
a live performance with a meddley
of past youthful kick-starters
the youthful pop anthems that would be
only crowd and radio pleasers
but then the personal experience of Beyonce's
music: with actual knowledge of entire
albums... the gem of flamenco
i don't know because that voice range
is from a classical education
it must be:
funny fact: most musicians in Poland have
had a musical education
or at least did in the past
not all but a large majority
(if not factually correct
then i'm thinking of Sting and some band
from Poland)
like Myslovitz or something like that....

oh YA YA and this is still the same album?
was this a double album?
tomorrow i'm going to the bank
and i'm going to the music shop and
sobering up and finding happiness in life
trying to maybe think
about buying a cheap car
i mean i have an NPKK number
so someone can check my file
well: and my provisional i think maybe
buying a really cheap car
but then the process getting insurance
oh jeez:
there's that aspect of owning a car
oh crap... it's not just about the driving
it's about the maintaining oh man
and feeling like:
jeez... she's talking about getting a new
car oh jeez i now see it really
oh i see it
but honestly that's it i can't have those
days off i will have to think of something
to do
i mean yes
talking about it but what sort of job
is out there that might allow me to work in patchwork
i wonder
but this can't be the one album must be a double-breaker
double-deck-er
                                      at least in my
mind's eye the sun is shining on the corridor
in my house
oh louisiana i don't know how else to describe
the sensation as an idea on the album:
this is a beyond concept album this is unlike
anything i've ever heard
and i'm pretty sure: it must be under 2h and i wonder
if she followed the album live
                               i'm waiting for the song
this lady talked about and jiggled to when she overheard
it coming from the stadium:
from atop: down down down              i'm \
"creamy in the middle"
                                      doxy
doxi                                                 then onto
RIVERDANCE
                                         oh what an open world
out there when you give yourself some focus
and say: yes i will give up smoking and drinking
yes
the combination can only be like this
a remedy prescribed not a tool to sleep
they only allow me to deep sleep in excess and
in return i get also short pointless nights
so there is good use remedy
or to tear open in celebration
                                    because you get the best
night's sleep when in the same bed
with her
                                and that was very
healthy and i can't really excuse:
                                               but yes:
if that person doesn't become contained then
you get paranoid eyes
you think because it's so easy isn't not going your
own way and giving away time
to pointless poetry
                                         because i no longer....
let me save and observe the concept of time
7:38pm and
i think i started at around 6:30pm but i can't be sure:
i simply made myself coffee and

.............................................................
i­n..........................................................
te...­................................................r......
l........­...................u...............d.............e

.............­................................................
...........s....­..........ee..............m..............
...........s...........­.....................................
l..........................­............................egit

(II hands
   II heaven)
                                           praises o praises
perhaps making my peace with jesus
i think she wants that the most from me
that i have to make my peace with jesus
but i can't imagine being a convert to christianity
away from catholicism
i know that Catholicism isn't any sort
of Christian denomination in America
on whatever the scale is and not organised
i think that's where we are conflated
in that realm of life
                                                  
tyrant
sweet honey buckin'
amen

                                        a poem written in the time
it takes to listen to Cowboy Carter
the full album
                                   a poem of that kind that sort
i don't think anyone has yet written a poem realistic to
the time it takes to listen to Cowboy Carter
i don't think music was referenced like that
tyrant tyrant
                             is she singing about her drinking habits?
i wonder i think
sort of cougar rapper              a cougar rapper
she sounds so much better with age
i think that there are women like that who
become better with age
and **** at least i need to think about August
because August is going to be completely empty
so i can have my two months of summer
like pretend boy
                             but what if i buy a car in poland
and drive across Europe?oh jeez... didn't think
about it... that would be proof of my self
i think i will need to think like that...
travel across Europe...
from Poland
i would only miss 4 concerts
but i wouldn't because i would have to drive
back
and i would need a phone plan
maybe cheaper
                   with calls abroad... from Poland
i don't know i'm thinking i need to plan
ahead i'm not thinking about a writing career
in the bedroom i finally get it
but that's realistic if i had to cancels
but when i will actually know about
the pay raise? on the 15th of July
i will know about the pay rise on the 15th of July
i don't know yet
i think they made a mistake or something
why i was paid more:
is that how working in large companies works
like under communism
no one knew what they were earning
some people earned more
                                 the misconception that
there was a standard wage for all
kind of jobs...
would be stupid
                                             a nightmare of stupid...
but true:
                   that would be money well spent?
a car in Poland?
       what a wild idea...        a young boy dream
i think and the idea of passing past Amsterdam and
staying there: some wild fancy dream
not for me some youthful daydream....

buckin'
buckin'                          buckin'
                                      buckin'

at least a Sunday saved
Amen...

                                    go to the bank
ask them how you're paying off your credit card
whether it's debited from your account
immediately after the date
i will give up smoking but i will also have another
coffee
and i have to get rid off the idea that i would
get me 2 more bottles of cider
now i have a sense of hope:
i now have a sense of hope with Amen and it's
a song that sort of repels the whole album
a thank you to god
most certainly: and having completed an album
oh the joy with Religion
and wow...
                                        Oh jesus indeed when
because to say his name
jesus - after having appreciated some sort of art
like an album: ends with the sound of a drop of water...
p[ing! the end...

                    amazing.