i can sit on a windowsill that encompasses
my right **** cheek, for days,
and laugh out a can...
because it's the feeling that infuses passing
and pst with memorabilia of the museum;
hence i caught hearing a ****.*

man tries to b funny in greater number,
make him less and war answers....

when deftones released white pony i was circumference
jogging over the moon more than
when red hot chilli peppers released the album
containing under the bridge...

i'm still sitting on the window sill with one **** cheek...

oh the ****...

japanese ensō poetry will debauch the haiku...
i say: 'the only interruption of ensō
poetry is a toilet break... i'm drinking and writing,
i'm not going for haiku short and quickie
****** for the needy...
ensō poetry is like prosaic poetry of
europeans lying rather than hiding their
sociological lie attempt...'

when you write ensī you write without interruption,
of course you can be interrupted, like a leap year,
but i am writing confessing to
the superiority of ensī over haikus...
haiku is brief and spring,
it's a maxim you wish to never fulfil or prove,
regardless of proof or the valued truth in it...

the ensī are like haiku, although with european
poetic excess of narration,
but **** up it's not about the quantity of the narration,
i know the purposive art technique behind imagism,
it's about fluidity: and a measure of want of editing.

the ensī are perfected when you leave them
as they are...
                       they alone know when to end,
                       they alone know when to recede.

but in my paediatric diary i noted something odd
with that olive skinned child by the quasi mosque
gripping my fingers:

warm hands are heat-bed of brain (exponential
imagination, solipsism all the time, asexuality),

and my hands cold (warm heart, the brain dead when
imagination chooses either phonetic symbols
or treats phonetic symbols as mathematical
and creates mickey mouse),

the same thing happened to me...
when a single mum with a blond haired child
started to read to me in german,
and i started gentle silent crying with a beer.

but still: the ensī are the new, better, elongated
haikus.... just because europeans can't
manage keeping their mouths shut,
and to treat them cheap... i wonder if they can
elongate into narration from the haikus they fake
in order to resemble an understanding of metaphor.

put the kabbalah way into the noun allah...
(allah, a noun famous for also being a maltese croissant)
you get llh and a, a...
then look at the story... adam didn't bow to iblis...
two adams already... i know of Abigail...
but i'm working from a narrative most people
repeat to a blood drenched maxim...
a and adam, a and iblis... no e for an eve talking first...
women remain hidden, veiled,
otherwise the noun yahweh mentions
adam and eve... and the geometry of y, h, and w
is more than l and h can offer;
but as i decided long ago, monotheistic gods
are gamblers, they presupposed the existence of money,
so you can have large scale bureaucracies of theocracy,
sheiks, among them most notable sheikh hassan i sahba
and sheikh casbah... not like the mohikan gods
of pure tribalism (tribal cultures don't use money,
civilisations use money) with the godheads of deer,
crows, arrow splinters that are crafted into tribunals
of newtonian physics, and as is said of einstein:
your relativity forces a straight into a magnetic field
that bends straight lines of flighty.

my a key is broken so i wont use it.
i love llh
in de smll
in the hall
is a ded jews
****** ws cool

. lately, i discovered myself: drinking more than writing, and reading even less, which is a less of anything, but i never expected to drink as much, and forget to read, to write, to somehow keep the Libra balance of: as much in, as much out - out of place... oh **** me... womanißng... i have a hard time petting a cat, or rather: you only begin to learn to pet a cat by "forgetting" to pet it, i couldn't stomach a revolving-door of women, i'd love the chance to pet a dog once more... but my hopes against the Moloch and the Juggernaut of the democratic rite of man: bitter, by the number, ever increasing; it's like when the biblical narrative of the eventual history of man: animals farmed, framed... etc. came across Darwinism and what was spat out was an intra-species claustrophobia... yes: i know... over-worded, " ", i too would like to speak onomatopoeia and limited constructs of words more like syllables, and consonants made into body language, and vowels like distinctions of breath...

while rotting christ became a prominent
band for me with the release
of Κατά τον δαίμονα εαυτού  in 2013...
my writing...
    or... i should have made a video
variant...
             yes, they would have
made a cover of aphrodite's child
the four horsemen...
           maybe the news of
       the death of matti nykänen,
having to resort to striptease,
dead, aged 55...
               but with all these people:
i feel i am entrenched
in a heart that is suffocated
by a mountain,
   and... that's less a feeling:
                       and more a reality...
i visit my grandparents,
and encounter
the claustro-**** of a scenario
of living for a month
in a town on the death-row...
i return, "home",
and live on the outskirts of
a major global cesspit that's London...
come rotting christ
with the album rituals...
well... the song: ז)ה( נגמר (Ze Nigmar)
                 wait...        
i know some hebrew:
and i do know that they love
to hide their vowels
via a "strange" diacritical method...
that... א‬ (aleph) & ע‬ (ayin)
are... a-
                     -nomalies...
they are... considering
the prefix cut-off rule...
                the story of Eden with
either twin Adams...
           or... two gay Adams...
or whatever it "necessary"...
     look... i come from a phonetic
encoding people:
that, do not have names for
letters...
               a-male... yes...
           b-male...
                            that i am, already...
and there's the whole
                    oo-male (ω):
***** champion -
    a cleft of ******* like
the cleft of the buttocks...

oh... right... z'eh... i forgot
that ה
is the vowel-catcher...
but...    I & A are missing in
        what becomes     NGMR...
and every hebrew word:
looks plainly: ugly in Latin script...
except one...
the tetragrammaton...
because?
   there's a geometry ascribed
to it...
        Y: 3D... quiff: י...
    the vitruvian man's tongue...
H & H...
   a bit like aleph and ayin...
  or... watching a game of rugby...
hence the goal posts...
or... at least plenty of slaughter
and something of a worth
of the content bound to sighs...
W... waves... squiggly lines...
      momentum:
           beginning at one
end, ending at the over...
      cosine...
Y: again... pin-point, crucible...
but all the other words
in hebrew?
   translated into the Latin text?
ugly as **** & god know's what!
but the tetragrammaton?
well... should Allah
be the jealous god?
   notably: and it would look like
LLH... ******* wonky...
     no geometry to associate
it with...
  but YHWH?
   that looks, it feels
    geometric...
Allah... even in hebrew: ל‬ל‬ה...
       looks... weird...
    sure... and the word for god
for the Maltese is also:
   a lend-word from Arabic...
      so... all sigh... ah...
apart from that?
******* niqabs for the vowels...
hidden,
it's almost equivalent to saying:
has anyone ever seen
a muslim woman pray?
on the steppenwolf's
sing-along-worth
of Aladdin?
ever see a muslim woman pray?
i figured:
muslim women do not pray...
i have never seen
a muslim woman pray...
yet here i am...
drinking... too much...
and writing...
what could have become
a sober me doing a harlequinn
take on a novel...
or become a tabloid
newspaper ju-ju-joornaleest...
  (no... not the english jaw
or jew but the french:
     au jus...
                 je suis:    juice...) -
never mind that...
all except the tetragrammaton
of the hebrew niqab for
the vowels
in Latin look like: shocks...
oh but the drinking won't stop...
down a liter of whiskey
per night,
   **** a minimum of
-1 women and find out about
the feel of performing ****
via my hand...
            steel-grip:
   flies to the tip of mt. ben 'evis...
    and i have seen
worse things being written,
and subsequently printed...
            i bet you 5 quid
that muslim women don't
gesticulate
    like the men
   do during prayer...
i bet... they smirk, giggle:
and who's who's
                doggy-position
*****?
   sure, sure...
    it's like kneeling
and the whole *******
antics of the christian baggage;
whoever:
  i'm drunk,
and you're probably sober...
    an subsequent
"conversation"
  will... i assure you...
work out... just... fine.

aestuosi pedes or perhaps pedes aestuosi:
whatever the order might be
it did bring me unto a rather favorite passage
of Cicero:

“He’s a slave.” But he may have the spirit of a free man. “He’s a slave.” But is that really to count against him? Show me a man who isn’t a slave; one is a slave to ***, another to money, another to ambition; all are slaves to hope or fear. I could show you a man who has been a Consul who is a slave to his “little old woman”, a millionaire who is the slave of a little girl in domestic service. I could show you some highly aristocratic young men who are utter slaves to stage artistes. And there’s no state of slavery more disgraceful than one which is self-imposed. So you needn’t allow yourself to be deterred by the snobbish people I’ve been talking about from showing good humour towards your slaves instead of adopting an attitude of arrogant superiority towards them. Have them respect you rather than fear you.

noted: for the sense of fluidity i discard
all above formality of Place or Name: sometimes
on a whim, yes, if prominent: either place or name -

and note that each new line is not bound to
paragraph (¶)
  pillow                             -                     crow

said to measure: expanse of - money, printable sap
of space of (a) page
                        and as such: a sobering ambition,
reflection, reminiscent of youth
and Nietzsche and: if anything equivalent to
Ecce **** can be printed
then this governed by the luxury of not printed...

on morality: as a prejudice?
that's not Nietzsche: not neat: cher:
chim-chimeney-chim-chimeney-chim-chimy-cherry
not him: me,

on morality: as prejudice...
since mortality is not ethics but an allusion
to ethics: morality is like fashion
is a sense of fashion
while ethics is simply the dignity of wearing
clothes or rather of wearing
protection
morality is how there is more to cloth
than simply keeping warm
the allusion to *** should summer come and
summer women...
who are not the women of winter
and how all that attire is exclusive
no, in summer a woman's attire becomes inclusive
or they say: it is warm enough
for the bees and the birds and
honey glazing of otherwise porcelain "anemic"...

larvae like see-through skin
you'd dare to look for a pulsating worm-like
structure resembling an *****.

or is there a subjective experience of having a heart?
i wonder
because the objectivity of heart on the basis
of pulse:
is there a subjective experience of the heart
like a heart is subjected to the clenching of the hand
to insinuated not so much
a fist to further insinuate violence but
a clenching of the hand to insinuate
a clenching of the heart a heart's pang of pain
not pain: real but pain metaphysical
                                                    ­  like love lost love loved
love as a chemistry, binding of two bodies
then unbinding like the need for two rings
of metal coupled...

                   quote:
"on this perfect day...
           i buried my four-and-fortieth year...
philosophy... hammers...
               now i'm going to tell myself
the story of my life"

                                  and that is curious,
or rather this is also how you experience a luxury
of writing should reading be exhausted
and by no far stretch of the imagination
this is a little vain a little sordid or at least there's
an aesthetic to the ascetic -
                                            which is hardly seen
but remains intact
                    perchance on the street outside
a train station three bums drinking wine basking
in the sunlight while everyone else busies
themselves (with themselves):

existential revisionist theory,
a soft beginning, inclined to the romance of Islam
maybe i've been working in the security
industry far too long with a multitude of
races, creeds and chocalatiers
since i believe i see that the future is biracial
at least a new Aztec Mecca
in the smoldering *** of hyped over hyped ***
i see the future as mixed-race
but i don't see the other necessary future
that is in me:

bilingual because it's not just enough
to break a few eggs
into the tease of horror-sexuality of the cis-woman
so much better than the early
sexuality of Bilie Eilish and now out for Lunch
bad guy bad guy
i'm finally making a girl cry
not the one crying not the broken idealist
of my years of 21 springs
now i finally found my wrecking ball
my Damian O
                        O the wheel and O i spin into
o o
o
o
o o
o o  o
o o
o o
             bubbles all not so like bubbles
but some sort of covert mathematics
like algebra but
not algebra because there are no hard-on
limp **** problems clearly defined
no this is more an algebra without letters
as letters or unknowns
with only 9/0 fold Truth
the avenue of awe while angels
stopped singing and instead started whispering
to me
the angels stopped singing
instead started whispering
into my mind's ear

if there is a mind's eye: i third party who and why

sobering thoughts burden me
when i drink two fire-milk whiskeys
and smoke a joint because
i microdose
i micro-dose
what i smoke if a sprinkle
in a giant bush of tobacco
rolled up rolled into a tight bun ***
oh the glutton over the intolerance
to the whey woah woe-ah like woe sulking
over a disco mummy dance
behind a mirror and all the ****
that's equivalent to the population
of octopii of the seas...

all she knew prior was no music
because she was collecting music
then sold the vinyl
melted it into linq:     liquidrice
liquorise... darker than spice
a bit like hash
Hashish Hasha...
         Ashar and the Bashar al-Qud

revel in the following telegraph:

CHRSTNTY XHSTD
exhausted
humanity
somehow
too much humanity
in a single man
existential revisionist
not secular dead end
all politics no myths
just newspapers
not fires and talk
and the one madman
Elijah to go into wilderness
for the voice of god
because humanity
somehow forgot and forgave
itself:
it started forgiving itself
for forgetting and making
upkeep a sort of last resort
of angles in the health
and safety rules at work

ergonomic sophistry
like i'm rhyming to the rhythm
of a song...
rhyme to rhythm of a song

RHYM' RHYTHM
i found the two gammas...
alpha male
beta male
and the gamma male
radioactive...
imitation of Rzeczpospolita
"too many consonants"
not enough vowel glue...

Riff - raff -Ryvm...
very velvet very not sleepy so borrowed
time on the touch of water
from behind a white glove...
no not helium filled surgical gloves
touching the waters of birth
waters of ***
waters of mouth
waters of oral
waters of constipated ***
and anti-birth
for the *** all pleasure
just gay dead ends no children
now my children not my children
all seem like children
and chills...
the waters of periods
moon skies and cycles
and buying plots of land
but not buying with words
like pennies by the simple math of
effort invested in, regardless of rewards
because

capitalism is anti-literacy with
the books it pushes all
autobiographies written by ghosts
of men
who excuse them reaching the heights
being dyslexic...
that's Muhammad the Prophet of WHWH
because is LLH to special for gay lord...

such is the extent of AI generated responses
it's like having a secret internet
that was not there prior
and that's me not even having dwelt among
the super cool gansta rot of the deep web
with all the human perversity
depravity and satan bound to happy-sad japan...

elsewhere the transition from Christianity
to Islam because the Hebrew cult is confusing
enough from how language is a study of the Torah
and how slang is not going to be anything
short of finishing that book
mind you currently on my list
of multi-tasking books
because i have taken the forbidden fruit
of an audiobook of the lord of the rings: the fellowship

but i'm gathering history in books
i can't just overlook, forget,
a labyrinth alley of forest dried and smoked
books, list:

knausgaard's vol 6 of mein kampf
frank herbert's dune
olson's the maximus poems
zhuangzi's writings
the master and margarita in german....

i have all these books started:
problem being
like someone i heard say
about Dickens' the Pickwick Papers...
oh yes...
that's another book on my list...
like this person said
to entice...
the problem with the Pickwick Papers
as a book...
is to have finished reading it...

thus i pledged: start reading as many books
and leave them unread
or rather keep them...
eternity is going to be a long flight
of the citizens of nothing toward god
so it's going to be boring and painful
so i need reading material
and the forthcoming book on my list of books
started but not finished is...

mad enough to spend £47.55 for a book
of 420 pages...
meadows of gold and mines of germs
by al-Masudi...

just because he was an ummi (mommy's boy)
doesn't mean that in some trance
he started scribbling, Muhammad...
anyone can take complications of a man
and attire them to self then somehow
exfoliate counter to the narrative of the supposed
clues to cues for life...
but i will not transcript the answer of the AI
(chatGPT is like the internet as an app
since i predominantly used the internet
to search, regardless of music i want to listen to
best advertised
but search engine for answers
like skimreading like a skinny late
like a skinny girl no **** no ***
so i mean like Google 2.0 that's chatGPT):

see the poem Q.

the UMRAH: not the HAJJ... squeeze some melons for the Muslims of Pakistan: wonder upon wonder: so anti-climatic when people move up in hierarchies, while i'm still stuck talking about the disparity of quest: between the UMRAH and the HAJJ. i'd love to see Rome, having seen Venice...

and a girl who loves stones
  and such big ***
but beside the big *** and watermelon ****
i guess that if i stop ******* her
i'll get to talk to her and that's like BARCELONA
      HIM HI HI HIM HIM anti-dementia...

i don't man: i'm getting bummed out
completely bummed out
by the focus on me this great yawning
void on the train
just managed to play the commuter
chess right
and sat down after standing up for
12h
and this guy
this ginger blonde 70 year old
drunk or pretending started talking politics
and religion
and he said
i had better chances of being
a priest than a politician
and then he uttered those words: pointing
at others on the carriage:
then to me:
you're a "good man"...

am i, a man?
i feel in this ******* revolution
i'm a mind in a jar
and an ego of a pickle
in *****
i feel unsafe talking my mind
in England
i'd feel less paranoid in China
and Russia
talking about nothing
and God respectively

i am actually scarred, mentally:
i feel unsafe with the BIG ****
BRIGADE
desecrating the Rainbow:
i've seen a rainbow arch above
a soft prison in Kauai
when i was leaving her
to then be reunited with her...

watched some French **** today
and...
well also took a **** and ****
simultaneously
then had a baptism
in the shower
the plumber ****** up the veins
of the hydro channels
a2 aq
aqua

bromance...
Qais
he sneezed and i said bless
you then he replied
with: thank you
i had another Pakistani
in the classroom
who stunted the universe
and the classroom
when upon sneezing
his ISLAM was STRONG
upon sneezing
BLESS YOU
no reply...

  the ISLAM is STRONG with this ONE
a Muhammad Salmaan Khan...
one ****- to another -stani
i don't get it

then my "manager" got my cognitive
wrong
i had a flick-switch
innuendo:

i abhor:
people glad with life
what did the devil say:
T.S. Elliott: juvenile Sylvia
Plath but not the former...
reading poetry depresses me
i get into this melancholic mood
like a member of
my family is drool and doom
O
roll!
rolling O: oooooooooo

i have no time for a typewriter
and being an all female
cast of cinematic casters...
no sugar, baby, no sugar,
i just thought about the trinity
of kissing you while
also ******* you

i felt bummed out about not working
a Pearl Jam shift
and the whole traffic cone
work hierarchy dynamic
became an inflated
Collective-Ego courier Da-Sein postage stamp
: stamped:

the work dynamic i asked
if Lisa was there
but instead Quebec Romeo
and Quebec Yankee:
were there:
but over the radio no Quebec Sue and
Bravo: Gravitas: blue:
zone:
              muddle in my brain:
hence enforcing the cryptic:

   YHWH cf. not vs. LLH

    A E                         A A

and little serpent: a - little - serpent

but i just spent £40 on a Green Day t-shirt
i was not supposed to be
the man listening
to the commuter drunk Dutch:
a male primary school teacher
met his wife
in Glastonbury
festival
have a picture
of the girl's friend taking a photograph
before he walked up and
chatted her up
the Q: uestioner:
math prodigy:
a data analyst
currently unemployed
looking to become an AIRPLANE PILOT
where has my middle leg
of the dream-moth
of middle class in England gone to?

cordon 11:
alley of the Zig Zag
i hate working Wembley
externally:
air of Nepotism
i'd feel safer in China and Russia
right now...
the dogs are barking
and the birds are safe
from all the serpents they once
were: dodo: transition ERASING
TRANSISTOR
UNIT
process: like electricity:

insomnia bound daydreaming
of the purpose of night
to sleep

let me just catch the rhythm
again: no classical no flutes
air benders
just music working around a heart-beat...

taxidermy - oh wow! the correct
spelling: but what was the incorrect spelling?
daxidermi_                    maybe...

habibi UNK'L GANDU
i just want peace
i just want peace
but i know there will be a great upheaval
in that Classical Liberal Leftism
has failed
and it's so miserable to watch
a second
best hide the vowels?

nd t's msrbl wtch... that: took concentration
can speed up the process
in Hebrew among the gods
given that people
speak more two animals
than they do
to their own imaginings:
but were the gods ever so denegrated
desecrated in the Temple of Dyslexia
and girls learning to speak Arabic
but not understanding Arabic

i've only watched 2 matches from the Euros...
maybe i can get the athletes on my side:
project: hip: anti-hippy
i am sad because i bought a Green Day
t-shirt
i was supposed to buy a Pearl Jam
t-shirt for Martin, St. sort of cucumber
and amnesia
like all *** is gone
and there is only conversation:
how we lusted:
wasted:
wanted: waged wars
WARC and WARX
these crucifix incursions:

and look where that left us:
          
   BUT DO YOU N'TAKE
INSTRUCTIONS:
it's a ****** job i told the three black
youths:
i'm not rummaging: yes i am:
a sketch pad...
but i couldn't just:

help me out: dark cloud...

        some powerful with mind
in bed
better than sunshine and surf
and tongue on the glee tempting sea
all rot in sun and skin
performance ******...
  like people junkies esp young girls
i just don't under-
-stand
why get druggie with little peeps
but somehow discourage Reyla
from the bloom...

                        got bummed for buying
the Green Day t-shirt...
i don't even like then
but it had the dates of touring
and i was working
that terrible Green blacker
than the greenest courget
and i was talking to this West African
and about slavery
and island vs city life
and the unavailability of reference
cursors:
with people left behind:
scared of the world:
and STASIS and TIME

           and like i came over when i was 8
year old and
didn't know a tooth from tongue
in terms of speech:
ridiculed for P'UH M'AH
instead of PYOO M'AH...
and that still rubs when someone's
a no one telling you their yours of
the usage of tongue:

that: sends me: SKYROCKETING
that **** makes me summon DEMONS!
then i want as much
carnage in the world
to counteract the Buddhist perfection:
of concerning oneself
with the Oceans
Mountains
Deserts....

            forests and plateaus...
the wheat that is...
         are not my concern: a concern for the people:

Lyndon: you got the timing wrong!
i was about to take down
those rucksacks
when you weren't supposed to:
do a walk around...

    i just wanted to amass at least three
so that people would get "the idea":

prophets of June:
Qais reminded me
something i forgot:

Judaism is a religion of cosmopolitans
probably high achieving couples,
Christianity a religion of females
Islam a religion of males
Atheism and Buddhism
a religion of Eunuchs

i don't like what i write
i don't like what sometimes passes
through me: but like digestion
until improved the improvised
lactose intolerant
then...                        mmm'heh'heh...

       ­      to the echo of demons
gearing up for war...
              only war will salvage me
in the hyper-conscious realization
that life:
is:

                                       SPECIAL:
spatial: spazz:            

                                          **
­
leverage the time-spatial
and the space-temporal...

              as a coin flicker on the kicked
by thumb to flick and late fate:
decide: no rigid dualism:

just rigid, random: chance: fate
an unwilling: luck.

would have never thought that the gods became: also, so bored: with the intelligence of human life, that they would resort to being the Lesser Privy: and settle for gambling: so bored thus current upsurge of Psy Hack Understudy like the deviation from breeding Lawyers: this the breeding ground for Poetic Anti Journalistic Efforts...
           could it please be reminded:
not to look at me so weirdly:
when i'm at work
because i do my work elsewhere
and no manner or matter or hierarchy will
ever, disrupt: my origins of CONCERN:
which, unlike Heidegger: i mumble
because: covertly:

        NOT, CONTEMPT:
CONCERN:
        that's the whereabouts:
whoever thought Heidegger was X...
here's my: ******* nein nein nein
ADOLF ****** HEIDEGGER
SEIG HEIL!
i wil not live, under, the pressures,
of a, pseudo-democratic: GAY: FEAR!
PRIDE: up your ***...
and your *** alone...

               I WILL LIVE IN PEACE
AND QUIET
UNDER GOD AND NOTHING

i will live in peace in China
and in Russia
but i: will not!
live with peace in my heart!
in the western world-culture: ETC!
i have had...

                         ...enough.

beer, as i discovered, is about as crucial to marinade meat as is salt and olive oil... especially when tenderizing pork... esp pork...

now pork, i do know:
unlike chicken or beef...
only recently i found out
that a quick Turkish marinade
with some Sumac
rosemary... rosemary?!
yes: apparently beef
works just as well with rosemary
as does lamb...

i don't understand the monotheistic
**** of logic against pork
maybe all that dehydration have
those "sputnik bros"
the wrong kind of hallucinations
maybe the rest of us are
forgiving of the sand people too
much:

but sure as **** Islam wasn't born
a heritage implosion
of Judaism:
Islam was born from having
to antagonize Christianity:
in the sentiment of:
Christianity begot waging
war of images against words
and Islam was born with a reply:
to wage war with words against
images...

pork i can understand:
how to marinade the beast...
tenderize it... succumb to:
the oink and the cartilage
in hoofs in nails
in ears in tail:
the most economic animal known
to man: in terms of edibility:
which is why these sand-people
seem so strange to
be so loved up in Kentucky
bird flute playing the flu
i don't get this backwardness...
this critique of god
it's almost like a gimmick
to show god and the people befriended:
so... these lunatics do realize
that: you couldn't possible
raise a piglet farm in the desert:

they do realize that Europe
was once a forest
and uprooting trees and turning the former
forest land into arable pasture
was not exactly...
what's the word: waiting in the desert
tending to camels spitting in your eye
blah: it wasn't super easy...
and yet the pig gets the brunt of the burden
of: weird people:
super weird people...
at least the Chinese with their atheism
and a lifetime of catching up
to the European fascination with
the Egyptians: but
what other written script out of Africa?
can we be summoned to the judgement:
well in part the westerners of the continent
but are we to blame for
how loudly Nigerians speak:
simply because they had no concern
for scribbling down the sounds that they
made and conjured up letters?

ooh look at me: i'm about to google
a politically correct... for fool's gold
if i didn't come across any African alphabet
until i already bypassed hieroglyphs then
what the **** am i expecting?
ideograms? Katakana syllables?
Korean thingy-ma-jigs?

          talking to Muslims and about Pork
is a bit like...
talking to someone about arachnophobia
holding a tarantula in your hand...
talking to Jews and pork is non-essential
since those other ancient spastics of the desert
finally succumbed to some variation
of liberalism on the culinary front
and in the most extreme scenarios the ones
that still to a pork-phobia
are the inbreeding types who wrestle
with having a state:
but not making statehood crux
of military service because of: "religious studies"...

******* camel jockey pork-phobia:
so blind that they see the letters
but can't hear the sounds:
like my latest fetish for the dentist:
like: it really was the antithesis of getting
a *******
and getting trimmed by a barber:
i got all tingles...
some man: two to be exact...
putting their hands into my mouth
wearing latex gloves...
it was like the perfect anti-******* *******...
so much so that i geared up
for the event by jerking off to
some ***** flicks with pregnant women:
god i love a good video where
a pregnant woman gets pleasured:
because:
if i was in the capacity to get a woman
pregnant:
i'd like to think what my allowances were:
could i **** her with that fetus inside her
or just all oral i mean i don't know:
just wearing a ring finger makes me think
all **** thinks all things godly and forbidden
and that's not even me contemplating
hell
because that's the one place were people
are there so sadomasochistic ends meat: meet...

boo hoo...
** ** **... Santa some variant of Satan's Clause...
i just don't understand why
this special spastic treatment of people
who fear eating pork...
clearly we are not literate
but imitation monkey: clapping:
that's not reading that's not:
it's just i say yo echo! echo! echo sounds!
baritone: get back to me later...
echo pork porky porky pi in the iota of sigma kappa
gamma... since: not real why-i-y...
but there's the j... which is sort of the antonym
of the sound enshrined in Y: Jive: hive:
yew: jew...

imagining a cannibal transported to a world
of vegan fetishes:
oat milk, dairy free: not eating poultry abortions
of eggs:
no cheese: no milking of the cow:
just rubbing firmly at a cucumber
to get some motivational juices out...
getting a haircut: primal instinct...
clearly we're not literate, collectively...
just because people can do more with signature
beside an X is
algebraic proof that: but people still adhere
to stupid ordeals of time-framed intellect
of progress that worked: for a time:
but have become: outdated and: this is no way
to live: this life of antagonizing pork
because somehow you can't be
the next sheep-******* and camel jockey
Don Muhammad
with an Envy of Solomon's Harem...

               lucky for me that i started basking
in the sexuality of a post-****** creature
now i don't have to worry about
unexpected pregnancies lock-me-up Scotty... spot...
Polka: that's dot dot... dot dot dot... dot...
now i just have to worry about a prenup
and...
well i was serious:
if i'm going to test hallucinogenic mushrooms
somewhere in a field in a meadow
in a forest enclosure:
i will need to sample the anti-thesis of Dune
or Dune proper
and ingest a tapeworm...
if i'm going to test hallucinogenic mushrooms
i need to bio-hack my consciousness
and create a trinity of me:
a tapeworm and a mushroom: fungal growth
of consciousness...

i am: deadly serious...
dope state deep of: my van Gogh is getting
the proper revisionist treatment of:
2nd attempt at seriousness:
first time it was all **** naked faking...

i still don't understand this prominence of
the desert people
and the literal obliteration of the forest people
of the Amazon...
because: clearly: the Europeans were living
in an area: this readily presented as the arable
breadbasket...
chisel the African man started rapping
blah blah bli bli blue blue blood:
but!
at least he converged and living among us
started to wear our clothes
and completely obliterated the stronghold of
classical music constipation with jazz
while the Muslim did: what?

but if it's all so bad
then why live among us why attempt
to intellectually clone as
as an extension of your repertoire of red flags?
why be so adamantly critical of god:
why would god be so critical of pig
if you laugh because English
is a language of mirror: GOD with DOG
and Allah: well: not exactly
symmetrical like YHWH when you think of
it: just LLH and that looks *******
****... **** beyond hope of not looking ****...
so...

m'eh...            pork pie!