A man I am meant to love told me the amount of skin I show represents my right to consent.
Flesh = Yes
Clothes = No
"Deserving" is a word he used.
A grandfather told his grandchild she deserved to be abused based off the length of her skirt, but this is old news; same story.
Only, I've heard it one time too many and now I'm sick of it.
"Devastated" over my hypothetical ****, he'd said,
as though his feelings mattered more than my right to my body.
Well, **** him.
I'm tired of prioritising people whose opinions are so archaic they can't see the crime in their words.
And his words hurt.
He defended the 'nature of men', claiming its an inbreed instinct,
tried to explain the appeal of women as though I don't already know.  
Jokes on him.
I'm gay.
But I've never been under the illusion it's okay to objectify or intimidate your way into a person's life.
I've never felt entitled to a person I've liked
And there lies the generational divide
Because neither has my brother.
Being "unable to control certain urges" is just another lie they feed you to perpetuate a culture of ****.
I'm seventeen, and yet I know the fear a predatory gaze can cause,
I've been leered at to the extent I honestly thought this is it.
This is the moment I've been warned about.
And then I thought "It's my own fault.
It's dark, it's after nine, I went out running in only a sports bra,
of cause I'm going to find trouble"
because I forgot that I'm not an object.
I'd been fed the same message so frequently it was ingrained into my fight or flight response.
Doesn't that speak for itself?
I'd been conditioned to accept the blame before the finger was even pointed.
So when my grandfather looked me in eye and said he thought girls where asking for it by the way they dressed,
I didn't have the energy to suppress my response.
I asked him if I'd been out drinking with friends wearing a sheer dress and matching bralette, and I was *****, would he consider it my fault.
His answer was met with stunned laughter.
Yes, he'd consider me to blame, and indicated his disappointment should weigh on my conscious.
I am shamed I have the same genetics as such a man.
At least I've learned to drown out his words so they can no longer effect me.

every single time, i'm like Ezra Pound at the end of
the cantos: may god forgive what i have made...
every, single, time... people i've known had
established families, had babies...
  and here i am asking to be forgiven having written
    an arsenal of verse... and asking to be pardoned for it...
the reason why world war II happened is because
the factions of world war I looked like they were cousins...
   they were! the reason why world war I happened
is that the powers at be were cousins,
children or grandchildren of queen ant Victoria...
all about-to-be-gouged-out fish eyed...
           world war I was a truly family affair...
don't know why it happened,
and i find even less reason to remember it
other than to prescribe monarchical power
for no power but mere pomp...
             i envision world war I as the classical framework
of warfare...
        world war II spelled out guerilla... a sort of thing
that didn't allow for state-visits...
           the great form of ******, that's what i call
world war I... world war II?
         a war of proxy... the Jews were the mediated
proxy ensemble...
              and i hate the fact that i can speak these
facts, or "facts", having the historical sofa...
  when saying such facts required a testy iron maiden's
worth of comfort...
                  the husbands of England...
charles I: beheaded... charles II: froliced having a libido
                                             of a fungus...
charles III: reigned for 24h...
            William IV: yawn... wish ***** Harry had
a shot at it... and by that time David Attenborough
was sniffing daisies from the roots up...
      while Clint Eastwood lived to be
                  one-hundred-and-thirty-five: spinsters of
the spaghetti ageing rhapsody for drawing evens
or 21 in jerking-jack.
               on the question of families...
we best look tailored as mum son and uncle,
father, grandad and auntie on the canvas of
a photograph... beyond it? ****** jokes...
       but then people who'd we wish to have interact
with also own about 20 chickens, a goat
and a barn that suggests we filter potato juice
against the hay for whiskey...
          but sure, sure, it makes sense...
    by urbanising people we feel not need to commit to
******... o with that barbarian practice of
selling Bulgarian brides at the cotton-smith market...
          i mean: apes inbreed almost everyday...
you see any spastics about? must be paradoxical,
hum-hmm-hum.       and that means:
barely any questions are needed.
                       but sure... world war I has a family affair...
i'll actually applaud ****** for doing away from
the monopoly of aquarium eyed inbreds that gave
us world war I... they were ******...
             back in Russia the Tsar looked like
the Kaiser of Germany, that looked like the King of England...
                     then some Serbian terrorist lit the sparkler
and all **** broke loose...
          cousin Vlad ****** tante Anne who in turn
            ***** the prudish third in line to the English throne
Beatrice...
            it only took, one blimmin' family to usurp Europe
and engage it in world war I...
               it took the same family to create the treaty
of Versailles and instigate the populism of alter
Marxism to craft the conscript papers for world war II...
but thankle gott for the Wehrmacht uniforms...
uber cool, uber zoo, uber zex... ßteit! prudence J. Austin!
          it only took one family...
and still world war I didn't invigorate the establishment
of Israel...
                      some say that was a worthy cause...
to have established Israel...
                   it meant the Jews disappeared from Europe
and we invited the Moshe Moshe mules of Ishmael...
                    sure... the Iron Curtain disappeared,
Pope John Paul II sold the harem of Eastern Europe...
and we became engaged in a new curtain... the ninja...
or what's already apparent the fluttering guise of
the ninja... the niqab... self-explanatory, in a sense:
no need to call it a curtain.

Small minds
to inbreed
Prejudice

Fallen lovers
to dwell in
Bitterness

Wealthy elite
to ensure
Inequality

Wishful thinkers
to escape
Reality

Introverts
to finally be
Alone

We all gravitate
to our own
black holes

Pamper me with poetry
For it be, favorite indulgency
Send me notes with scribbled song
Join this **** verbose throng

Come to me with words of texture
Preach to me a loving lecture
Find more poets, listen, read
Favor phrasing; inbreed my need

Circuit airwaves charge this lust
Magnanimous wishes throw and ******
This family of balladry
For this bard works flawlessly

I’m a ***** for all your words
Give me seconds, give me thirds
Spit on me your favorite quatrain
Indulge my fervor macaronic and insane

this is not england circa 1945!

wenn sehnsucht für...
fleischaufwölfe...

und sein im: ..................
surd toward a ditto
a "said part"

israeli techno...
habit of celebration,
this, your israel,
has become....
the one place to visit...
outside
of Beirut...

mogul israeli and a...
english tongue?
and not a whut-whut-whut
westerner...
commoner: "mon":
ça fait longtemps, dis donc...

cedilla... some french
variant of the ancient greek
variation of "s"..
or... "otherwise"... an "oops"...

here's to me, champagne *******
every kenyan ivory beauty is....
no... it's pretty much..
being able... being-****-able...
to be allowed a hard-on...
with an ivory beauty on the "roll"...

i need to feed the act of performing:
guess who's who without
3rd part interests...
i want that bone-fiddled *** of mine
that coccyx that... Latisia night nurse...
um and that abc "ouch"
grief unto you: for having
this... i sometimes grieve...
the "assurance".... of having
a mamă...

there's an enchanté(e)?
é(e)?
the Titanic... will... sink!
there's no joke with a hindsight...
the Titanic will sink...
and i'll be the ******* iceberg!

no ******* Kilar choir will save
this paupers' and... what not akin
to pennies reigning down from heaven
as rain!

"the better man"... no Ovid
via Pearl Jam...
or... November 1, 1959, mild mannered C.C. Baxter:
which is the best: "whatever"...

that serenity of the 1950s...
movies... and that "leftover" of "jazz"...
as ever: the go home tow two me "son"..
another one of those canadian:
whips up a candy and says
it best via a: V: Vancouver and via
Beijing it is sinking...

sleepless in Seatlle had to become...
homeless without a Beijing....
or some other hare krishna
of a merry christmas and some...
merry to go round of a hanukkah...
because pearl jam told them to do so...
when... past library bells...
no... not vitalogy...
not the song red mosquisto...
what album?!
do i ******* look like some nova scotia...
bogus bog baron...
triade... fencing tartan...
new scot makes it big and canada is welcome...
eh eh what?!

low light...
immortality...
seattle will never make it toward
a focus on a canadian heaven@
no big ******* when it comes
to knitting-nirwana either...
brian or the brain of J...
and the "no way"...
what's that... bass or no bass at all?
canadian trump nirvana?

perhaps i'm just the most,
well assured, simpleton counter 16 old
queen preg Juno daughter of...
when daddy didn't make the jazz
band as the drummer...
hence: i was born...

that wide and open: highway...
perhaps that's why you can ever, ever,
play jazz. beside the impromptu...
the major focus is supposed with a pivot on:
well... it's not like
you ever heard it before,
or would ever have? would you?

so you write jazz... you impromptu...
you would never have ever had had
ever had listened to it before...
canadian grunge would have...
never... shot a dead-lead
into a cranium focus of... "whoops"...

and so it survived... and gave stockholm
impressions of a beijing yet to come!
perhaps: canada: that place i wished
my parents made it...
but... counting the current grey-matter *******?
here's to: here's to!
aici la sorbi unii apă din Bucureşti (SH when
you see a caron hiding)...

nirvana and the discoteque...
with US... or what's alice in chains
and the whole: growing up with grunge...
and the joseph roth "debate"...
the schattendieb: concerning actors...
actors being: der schattendieb...
shadow thieves...

aren't they? aren't actors elevated circumstances
of thieves?
what is there to steal...
if you're only, if you're "only",
and only, "stealing" a shadow?
well then: you're made pristine in the request to:
act!

here's to learning some romanian
and not focusing on the nativitistic concerns
of a people who...
besides..
yawn... and yawn once more...
figured only a history lesson was worth
being reminded...
and... not... not... assimilating to the modern
world was... ahem: YAWN...
because the hindu-hebrew et al....
and because... because...
the natives have spoken!
but we can't make the natives....
"suddenly"... bilingual "all of a sudden"...
we need new pampers new diapers...
we need more pencil sharpeners!
we need to go places where no Armstrong was
ever to be t.v. screened!

this really comes as a self-depecriating humor...
as to... why am i not a polyglot?!
why base it upon an english focus?
why am i not speaking german...
enough enough to move there?
why am i not speaking enough mandarin to
move to Vancouver with the housing crisis?
living with your parents
and not milking the Ed Gein meme?
too bad for you too!

the nirvana anthem is worth the ones that:
continue to come "un-expected"...
the pearl jam anthem is worth the ones that:
for some, obscure ******* reason...
didn't drop stone-cold dead...
like: the oops that never dies
and will never be a hey-presto or
that wonder-bill of a magic theatre translation...

so much for today, tomorrow...
and all those happy birthdays that everyone sends
but never wishes unto each other;
em... our lady peace? are you sad...
i was really this "young"?
did i grow up?
the besnard lakes: people of the sticks...
it's still canadian music...
isn't it?

it's hardly: chevalier, mult estes guariz...
rollo: duke of normandy...
blah blah m'eh blah monsieur!
as i am: Pan...
if i were to strip this... fiasco of the acquisitive
tongue... when no native is a king
before me but a citizen of my equal worth...
but not until! this time is ripe!
until... until the natives think themselves
as kings in their role of citizenship!
until that time comes...
before the natives... the english:
a most sordid lot! aren't they?
the pauper thinks himself a king...
as long as... there's a foreigner in their midst!
an englishman will think himself a king...
among foreigners...
when his fellow kin are too few!

what a barren man!
he will subsequently lever his presence among...
the empire of his... compatriots...
his... immigrants... his expatriate h'americans
and australians...
but unto me... come back... as either
scot, an irishman, a welshman,
and englishman: but first as king!
as first a king and the mortgage manager
of bricks and mortar!
imagine my disbelief:
Richard the Lionheart never spoke
a word of this hubris of a tongue!
this is the tongue that no king should dare speak...
this tongue is reserved for pride-riddling
peasants... commoners...
communists and inter-nationalists...
the fact that there are natives hiding in it like
some hobbits... only exemplifies my remarks...

i only repay... what has been lagging...
i repay... what is due...
an honest critique...
these people have already spoken
their self-critique...
i am literally adding nothing to it...
i am happy though...
that such people find each other...
to inbreed among each other...
the polacks and the anglican saxons...
the most welcome twin peoples of this welcome
earth...
i would sooner find myself ******* a kenyan
or a romanian girl that care to upkeep
the copernican or the darwinian
gene-tripping of continuity...
sorry...

i'd sooner **** a kenyan "chimp"
than an english or a ****** neanderthal albino;
but of course... that's until...
i hear the rob roy...
robert the bruce...
and how is it that Kuba: Jacob is a Hebrew
name... but... Matisyahu: Matthew: isn't?!

and there's no harvest of wheat...
there's only the... meandering of: flimsy grammar...
if only the testimony of pronouns usage...
and... how dobermann puppies were
raised for aesthetic purposes...
how their ears were made focus for
a snippet... to protude up-right like
circumcised *******-pieces of the last-day
advent chimps of man...

the circumcised man says:
no greater sorrow than the...
******* man...
says the same man...
who allows the un-circumcised woman
to... film herself donning the...
guillotine play-thing...
like it was never an Adam scratching
his cranium from a pandora of
a prophesy of a future: of a loss of hair...
but the woman is still allowed to *******...
the man is "not supposed to":
even if he is not yet circumcised!

this sort of logic must exist exlusively
among circumcised men...
i am... i am... dying...
to see how an f.g.m. model makes
it onto these **** websites...
and starts... beating stiff the already
eager pickled gherkin... into a ballet of prima ballerina!
yes... solo...
guess what? i will not hear...
a mouse's peep-squeak! concerning this...
the circumcised man giving lectures
to uncircumcised men about:
how best not to *******...
and then... what if the only **** i watch...
is bound, exclusively...
to uncircumcised women jerking off?
what if i need to curb my "**** addiction"...

honest to god! i'm looking for f.g.m. ****!
i'm looking for f.g.m. ***** solos and i can't find any!
i tend to ******* to videos of women still
equipped with ******* doing the sly-herring
bit of skinning a "missing minute"...
yes? yes?

i'm sorry... did you think that you had my *******?
if my lashing out on a chimp's lip of "tomorrow"
was ever so bad...
how about... treating your daughter to one of those muslim:
whip em while you're still at ease?
i'm not circumcised... she's not circumcised...
i'm in no way going to approach her:
to get her closer...
she's jerking off herself silly...
i'm just going to tango with her in her solipsism...
you will have to circumcise one of us...
which one are you going to circumcise...
if you circumcise the wrong ***...
perhaps you might meet the right mark of a snippet...

hardly finding a kippah in a ******* niqab's
worth of a snippet...
but you know how these orthodox people
bother themselves:
no one has yet to cut off their noses
or their ears...
and it's like they have anything "missing"
with their excess of ******* alongside
either phallus or ******...

i figured it must be an argument of the circucised...
if they allow women... to not be circumcised...
and... las vegas their **** to a paradise of
finger-licking-ooh... or goo...

oh i am bitter... because a circumcised man
said so... a circumcised man said so...
he said: the uncircumcised man should
not imitate an uncircumcised woman...
since... no circumcised man...
ever masturbated... over a video posted
by a circumcised woman!

'ave eye oi vey sabbaton?!

a raw challenge of words - not some tartar genius -
it's a "question" or not - and it's a roulette -
it's a gamble -
it's: words not roasted -
words not roasted in an oven of academia -
esp. oven roasted via a masters in arts:
english lit. or jane austen studies - majors -

i can't exfoliate just yet -
i have to catch the midnight train into tomorrow...
because - "something" needs to be tended
to - and i'm about to become
a very responsible nouveau adulte...
i have no time to talk about philosophy -
how i found the time to read it
is another matter -
but talking about it...
seems pointless if... not also weilding
a hammer - heidegger's:
can we talk while doing something else,
menial - and escape the banality of breathing
by on the side - supposing thought?

the crux of the hammer and the nail...
and this talk - or no talk - escapism of sorts...
the isolated words to be "thought" about...
"representation content" and...
what... "what": "reality" is made of...
a speaking that has to return back
into the yoke of thinking -
and not something as practical as...
hammering nails in... ad infinitum...

knock knock... who's there?
Descartes who? Descartes i doubt the table
but not the chair i'm sitting in;
ever knock knock on a leather chair?
there's no superstition of "jinx" associated...
or i could just as well be drinking...
my "thinking" is already
on the train about to leave: come midnight...

raw tartar steak of genius -
words not baked via an oven of an academic
degree in the direction of... modern linguo?
my way all the way back from:
esters RCOOR'
aldehydes RCHO...
carboxylic acid(s) R-COOH...
all that but above all this...

the austrians really do know how to
make the best coffee...
something a christoph waltz would say...
the austrians are (a)
the germans are (b) - high, low - whatever
floats your boat of comparison -
and i do only have an address and a name...

Der-Franz (Vienna since 1929)
A-2512 Oeynhausen
Sachers Strese 7...
hazelnut flavour... coffee...

hans landa eating a strudel -
is probably the best strudel in the world...
and on all days...
but this... it's also a hugo boss uniform...
it's crisp cut... and...
say all you will...
when a girl might wish for a cindarella dress...
any boy would wish for a hugo boss
that clean cut and readied
for: being ironed twice daily...

as of yet: i'm yet to expect a darwinistic
furore - fever - of the coming of
the close of the 19th century and
the opening of the gates for the 20th century...
second coming of darwinism leaves
me hardly convinced -
oh but it's true - oh but yes yes -
some of us are working in the knitting
of the kingdom of the Brine -

this so-called culture war:
words make bad bullets and sentences
are hardly rifles to shoot them with...
paragraphs like bombs: would do...
if congested into... non-paragraphs...
end of james joyce's ulysses or...
jean-paul sartre's iron in the soul...

the rare events of a postcard being sent by
a philatelist...
or a lepidopterist coming clean
on the metaphor of: the most forbidden fruit...
of which king john of england
would never find out about:
sooner the magna carta...

i'm tired of and i have always never tired of...
byzantine chants...
what can anyone actually remember
of the remains - apart from the chants...
or the bureucracy?
the youth that riddled them with canons
and a library that contained only one
book...

i can't even bother to stomach the correct
grammar -
unless it's a translation...
english: red herring...
french: hareng rouge
german: regenbogenforelle
you wouldn't expect me to succumb to
Ablenkungsmanöver / heimlich maneuver
of a spin-doctor, truly!
english: rainbow trout,
french: truite arc-en-ciel...
german is already given...
polish: pstrąg tęczowy...

nietzsche was right... we are the slavic
equivalent of the french...
we share most of their grammar 1-2 1-2...
why i didn't learn it proper?
they write one thing -
then say another -
i can only see excesses of letters
in written french... once they start
talking... all those letters come
and disappear under the suffix- umbrellas...

otherwise... i'm tired of having the need
to sharpen words -
words: would be bullets -
are not pencils -
sticks and stones and all things
associated with infering information:

otherwise just as last night - attempting to fall
to sleep: giggling and imagining myself...
having walked into the north sea off
the coast of norwich...
shouting: i'm a whale! i'm the beast from
the sea! i'm a whale my primordial
mammalian ancestor! i will swim to Denmark!

talk about living through a drought of:
where the english seems to be the dream-a-lots
having never felt a leash of metaphysics
around their necks tighten and give themselves
unto catholic mantras of central europe -
or how the italians are still christian in name only...
otherwise the go to:
aestheticians and romantics of the fig...

these words are not...
how did i perfect cooking chicken ******* without
the torso or the limbs -
the torso and at least half of the limbs
went into a most perfect chicken soup...
the remains and some frozen goods
went into a **** chicken marinade...
thyme... thyme... check y'er dubliners'
on the surd of H in that one...
it's θyme... otherwise's it's t'inking: time...
not so, paddy o'brian? patrick?

snail-paced grammar:
2 steps forward... 1 step back...
at least in the confines of this leftover:
catacombs of Latin...
we are all the children of Rome -
the hebrew were wrong about two alphabets...
the greek and the latin...
spot on! spot on when it came to...
persian cuneiform and egyptian hieroglyphs!

back-up... the glagolitic and the rune scripts...
somehow accomodating the overlords
of judea... otherwise: really stretching
the history for a personal experience...
what alphabet is this?!

- concept of beauty in the 1950s:
none other than the bleach mingling with amber
that was marylin monroe - the blood of which:
and the modern "beauty?
ava lauren - otherwise i call it:
the mandible jaw of ***-appeal gymnastics -
leather beauty - some worn, torn and -
the jigsaw puzzle that comes naked and
there hardly a kennedy romance at stake...
because even in her mature years -
it's "something" that would appeal
to Rodin's hands...
it's already... it leaves me at ease to ****
like a shotgun into my one "crooked" leg folded
and hunched like a crow perched on a windowsill
of the new-born Papillon -
marylin the icon? untouchable...
ava lauren the limbo montage and:

even this poo'em is proof:
why lament the crux of a would-be Liszt performance?
"views"... if that's anything to go by:
i have an *** and a ****** -
implies... i have more than a head a spine to prop
it on and a tongue's worth of an oyster
dissected between the 32 shells...

that views should count: a fountain of youth!
of a body i am certain...
of a soul: i know what i have -
only after i have lost it -
shared company - rejoice soul! hell doesn't exist!
as they call say: via their slavic proverbs:
the devil is without a soul...

perhaps i'm asking:
are not some of my words infantile?
d(evil) and go(o)d?
do or do not...
come to think of it... what makes people
invite the ****** eye into their ****** *******?
to boast or gloat?
i hardly think so...
from the times i watched...
and from the times i was the protagonist 1st person...
sometimes the third person attitude
is... well... imagine being in a 69 position
of reciprocating each other ******* & "*******"...
faber & faber...

if you have a ******* **** in your face...
and you're slurping and slurping...
what out of body experience can you expect
to have... to really and you really
want to appreciate the face of a woman
pleasuring herself and somehow you
on the side...

bogus and boring the same old
*******...
in that cocoon of: under the bed-sheets...
like two foetuses *******
amphibian bode -
placenta erections and:
the place where no two mouths meet!
otherwise:
she rodeod to the point
of a complete tail turned coccyx erosion!

*** is ***... no need to bring grammar
into this "debate" with a bilingual "schizoid"...
otherwise: hello Chloe...
is Chloe ready for a circus?

for all the *** in the world...
it's never something appealing for the eyes...
it's numbing for the parts that
imitate ******* snipping...
and otherwise... it's always more fun
casually: in third-person...
very much akin to reading a book...

because this piece of writing will not topple
your below average amateur post
from the free-range harvest of:
and this one tested this *****...
and this one was showing off: how she can
still get frisky when pregnant...
and... this sore loser is hardly going to...
because...
the greater pleasure comes from music...
to me *** is a most:
dyssynchronyous act...

how some people still manage to focus on saying
something is beyond me...
i'm left with onomatopoeias...
half-wit compositions of somewhat consonant
leverages - somewhat vowel expansions
of breath...

never does god even into this brothel...
i show him the "niqab" and all that's visible
is either silence of the hebrew definite article: ha...
why would i somehow
fathom a god in forms? not words?
with a c.c.t.v. focus etc?

- ******* on the roses, eating the roots
and sniffing the ashes -
variations of the modern: fine and lean
cannibal... because none of this invokes
the mandarin: specialz elephant ivory
"herbalism"...
cos if beijing don't sniff it...
we'ez knot snifz it... woz!
n00b wording and "get some"...

ל... find me a F(ucking) in 'ebrew, levite!
kametz = no aleph or ayin...
chirek? "i"?
well... it's и in cyrillic... א in 'ebrew...
but the latter is: an A...
the other gay Adam to Ayin...
and: whenever jeffrey "napoleon dynomite" dahmer
went along...
hiding vowels... and two vowels
treated as consonants...
you'd have to be born in London,
Golders Green to keep up with
the Hasidi...
because wherever they go...
the quarter is followed up with a ghetto...
like a bayz payot caduceus... listening: sparrows
chirping!

would a myth of Eve the prozzie Lilith
even matter at this point?

it only comes down to: integrating
or keeping with the purity of the forbidden fruit
that isn't *******...
but... cousin *******!
i've seen how this old forbidden fruit looks like...
it slobbers... it doesn't speak...
it's wheeled around: it doesn't walk...
the old fruit of eden: ******* your mother,
******* your cousin...
because i know what the next forbidden fruit is...
the circa 16 year old...
but that doesn't invite genetic: non-chernobyll
"status teases"...

inbreed far enough so that no outsider
will ever want to meddle with the ****** politics
of: the first ever niqab ultra...
because the muslims were never:
but really were about... the power dynamic
played out in rumi's *******: sufism...
a tier up from: gentlemen! let's broaden our minds!
Lawrence! ***** in the air! adhan!
compensated by the christian *******
at the altar...
religious gesticulation toward proving
the existence of incubuses: a very feminine affair...
when the broomstick stops "working"...
and there's no sabbath to attend...
and high-tier french socialite society
moves to London...
and the Viennese patisserie was always better
than the Parisian yoke-riddled flat and custard
agitation prone...

i poke my head out of my whittle
hermit cave...
and oops is supposed to happen...

or... drink enough cider and a shot of whiskey
at the same time... and...
it's almost like you're part of
the baltic culture of eating... kashubian herrings...
or generally pickled herrings...

why the **** did Amon Goeth say...
casimir the great - so called -
told the jews they could come to Krakow -
well, even history says:
first they were jews...
later they were polaks...
or: no... they weren't polaks to begin with:
not with that history allows us to entertain...
likewise...
"they're" not h'americans...
israel seems to be...
somewhat of a safebet gamble...

if i heard that one palestinian had roots
in saudi arabia...
like all those "pakistanis" circa 2001 that
had roots in saudi arabia...

the subject - the **** -
the tender geopolitics in between -
the 7 year madness of nebuchadnezzar
that never made it into a ben-hur esque movie
****...
shame i say...

of course this will not reach a far greater audience...
ah... what am i missing?
a ****** - a plump *** - a decapitated madame tussauds
monsier de sade *** toy / would be barbie or
an otherwise ripe cucumber...

my agony: extending the *******
into a cusp of a bone hard hand...
rather natural -
not unless - the proper deal is associated...
me and my ******* and
the girls being circumcised...
well then...
that would almost be like me...
being james cook having just visited
the Easter Islands!

They are basic and
crass
They don’t go to
mass
Des Française, sont
un race de merde.

They are jealous
of money
Trump/Macron that's
funny
They eat frogs, don't
you think it is weird?

They have Mayors
of mixed gender
When at war they
surrender
They’re Xenophobic all
foreigners, are feared.

They will stop on
the street
Urinate while they
tweet
In *** plants, on small
dogs, nothings spared.

They don't use
******* bins,
They go to bed
with the hens,
From lace curtains one
knows you're being leered.

They inbreed with
******
Pour Le Patrimoine,
it is best
Like Deux Chevaux’s
they're inferiorly geared.

They shout out
about Liberty
their Egalite's
in puberty
In Algeria, Fraternity
was smeared.


       FIN.

They are basic and
crass
They don’t go to
mass
Des Française, sont
un race, de sale merde.

They are jealous
of money
Trump/Macron that's
funny
They eat frogs, don't
you think it is weird?

They have Mayors
of mixed gender
When at war they
surrender
They’re Xenophobic, all
foreigners, are feared.

They will stop on
the street
Urinate while they
tweet
In *** plants, on small
dogs, nothings spared.

They don't use
******* bins
They go to bed
with the hens
From lace curtains one
knows we're being leered.

They inbreed with
******,
Pour Le Patrimoine,
it is best
Their Deux Chevaux’s
are inferiorly geared.

They shout out
about Liberty,
their Egalite's
in puberty,
In Algeria, Fraternity
was smeared.

I am the man who naked stands behind a brick wall
Engraved god's iron crosses deep in the skin
So raise your hand higher, follow my lead
I'll probably **** some boys and continue to inbreed

Heat me up, complete me with a stamp
Thou shalt always have a t on thy chest
That's my chic, this is mine camp
And I will never let my art be unblessed

I was naked and shouted say 10!
An echo blasted even bloced **** gents
Omnipotence.
Cut I bleed under bandages
We are all ******, stop me or try
Death in a dark ally, god smacks in Iowa
With one hand raised, the other gesturing I love ya