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Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.i think,

  the ergo:

i'll never battle my alcoholism,
why?
   people enjoy their roller-coasters,
don't they?
same ****, different, cover...
i love the spiral...
and if you play me some
alice in chains...
akin to the song would?,
or man in the box?
          you just covered
the no man's land...
      pity is cheaper than words,
actually...
         i hate pity...
    i'm of the sentimentality
confined to:
  you do your ****,
i'll do mine...
    but god forbid i lax my
attunement to the rigoristic
attachment to,
either spelling, or grammar...
   i'm here for the free-fall...
the sort of free-fall
readied with the imagery
of Satan diving into the vacuum
of the vacuum of the universe,
with the ferocity of
an asteroid... generating
gravity and vector...
listening to the onslaught
of slayer's -
   raining blood;
or muse's song bliss...
let's just say...
   i'm here for the tartar stake...
roughly cut up...
rather than minced
baby food meat.

                            i am...

    you don't come between
a rhino's target,
and the coordinated,
posit for the origins of the charge...
i'd hate to use the incisor teeth...
i'd rather prefer at the maulers...
even though...
   it's like using a blunt knife...
you use the maulers to crush bone
to get the marrow...
      i've reverse...

             because what is speech
akin to this, sort of extravaganza?
the simpler excuse for the excuse
to not act...

                 i don't feel i need to act...
i much prefer waiting,
to acting, "hard"...
            i love the virtue some discredit...
on the simple ground
of a patient bidding a stalling...
i like it...
            let's face it though...
poetic terms overpower
the latter half of the Cartesian equation,
sum is over-laden with
metaphors...
      and cogito with
a blind-sighted focus
without a chance of a labyrinth...

the ergo-mismatch...
can't see a Minotaur even if i wanted
to...
         and i don't sometimes
feel inclined,
to charge at anything,
that's not standing before me,
in a mirror;
and is, esp. not me.

in a harsh rhapsodic voice -
i, will, not, REPENT!
to justify your pseudo-moralism!
drink your coffee!
and? ******* into your
quasi-amphetamine doctrine
of the faking of originality!
this, social-commentary...
like, half of these people never
cared about your health...
so, naturally... they don't make
much of the care behind it...
my rehab?
     visiting my grandparents,
the homogeneity of
a small Polish town...
   no cold turkey moment...
fixing up my grandparent's kitchen...
laying down new linoleum flooring,
refreshing the walls...
if you were never born
in a monochromatic,
monosyllable culture?
   you'll never know the counter-drug
akin to alcohol...
   experiencing it...
  
i'm sure, that you should ask an
alcoholic Jew...
   what cured him or her...
once they returned from a visit to
Israel...
           equivalent of
Mecca... but Mecca is not a place,
nor an idea... it's a people!
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2016
how rho uncouples -** and attaches itself to the remnants of alpha, given the suffix -lpha is done away with it, to create: ρα (fragrance of the woo ha ha lingering in the air) - ρα- ρα- ρασπυτιν! lover of the russian king... imagine rasputin in the hands of placebo - counter the original ghost story of: daddy cool... imagine! it's all Disney!

some say i reminded people of the φ:
                      some compare φ to outer beauty,
φ being the golden ratio: all bets are off:
whenever there is beauty, there's a number;
                           Proclus.
2,500 years ago: it's not that Greek civilisation
declined, it's only that so many bright skylarks
came in at one: akin to the Renaissance -
there was no decline, there was just a massive
******* of talent, it seems that Zeus
did the ******* with a swan and and an eagle,
and... bob's your uncle...
           there was decline, but there was no decline
because there was the sudden onslaught of instigation -
a decline would mean: first came Copernicus,
then Galileo, then Newton, then Einstein,
                        steadying revision
centuries apart... comparative association?
a gold rush... looking for nuggets and maulers
of rough cold - it was a collective light-bulb
moment... akin to the cold theory of
Jungian psychology that's the collective unconscious...
although the collective light-bulb moment
is particular in terms of history, in terms of
science, as is the Italian renaissance concerning art -
Martin Luther is the Socrates as the end of debauchery...
debauchery in a good sense: let the geniuses
seize, and the common man absorb their findings:
whether right, or wrong - we need common
threads of their offshoots, rebellious,
we need a common denominator.
back to φ (external beauty, and plastic surgery,
the perfect symmetry of the face,
from Phidias: the sculptor and mathematician -
can anyone tell me why *David's
head is
over-sized? well, no φ went into that piece...
head's bigger than a watermelon,
body is proportioned well according to
limb-for-limb, but the head is a
balloon, why is it a classic? oi! send Isis
in to smash that **** to pieces!) -
so φ is all about external beauty,
we all know ψ (psi) stands for internal beauty,
psychological dynamics -
                                           plastic surgery,
in fractions: 1/2 (half), 1/3 (third), 1/4 (quarter),
                           1/5 (fifth) -
       apologies to Proclus: wherever there's a linguistic
symbol that symbolises both encoding of sound
   and a mathematical transition: there's double the beauty:
         1/φ,     2/φ,            3/φ              4/φ            -
       how when was the golden ratio made into a suiting
  equilibrium?
                          one leg shorter than the other?
   some say a lazy eye is as if an monocle -
            for all the constants it's the fractions that
  are decisive - the width of nose and the extent of
it's length is based on a 1:1 ratio
              ah crap! now i know my confusion!
   i was thinking of a silver fraction!
    never mind -
                               think gambling: 7 to 1...
          7/1                 maybe that's why i forgot ratio
    uses  colon, or, comparative emphasis -
                     the width of the mouth has no length,
               it's simply 1, or none -
                                      but from the edge of the face
to the first eye is measured as 1:φ
               i.e.                      eye                  eye
         [                               (    )                  (    )                            ]
     ­     <                1               >
          <                         φ                        >            
                                                                ­                             edge of face
top countries for face and head cosmetics:
   brazil: 10.8%         of global Σ, 430,375 procedures,     1st place,
   america: 10.4%      "      "       ", 413,140           "         ,     2nd   "    ,
   south korea: 7.8% "      "       ", 311,571           "         ,     3rd    "    ;
still, i'm more interested in how,
   you take rho and alpha and craft out Ra -
                     ρ               α                            Ρα -
    and where does -**               and -lpha go to?
                no wonder the Russians are the scientists
kindred heart of greece, and the inheritors of Latin
sing so much, fame themselves on music -
that's about right: the Slavs think well enough,
                    but, **** me... they can't sing for ****!
   jeeze! Disco Polo? that's one experience you
have to go through to understand -
                  what with Mendelyev
щ - e.g. szczypce (pliers) - shch - YZWZ - alter. -
             i.e. щypce -
            ш - e.g. szaszłyk (skewer) - шaшłyk
me? i'm standing at the time when god said:
oh, that ****** tower of Dubai? looks like we need
to spot the architect watching minding the glue...
э - well, that's currently know as the euro (currency) -
     so why ч (che / cha v. cze / cza)
   allowances, could be in addition also chu and cho and χ
           but... then it comes to
   ю (yu)              we have no yo, yi, ye, but instead
                       я (ya). peacock? me?
    just bemußed - and they're talking about an
identity crisis, never felt one, up to 2004,
when the floodgates opened and i wasn't the only
Pole in school - i hid all this time in English society,
and i was kinda accepted as a freak accident,
but then... after 2004... nothing special -
so like i once said: a psychological mongrel:
   yes, in English ß is: s-z-interchange -
sometimes smoothed, sometimes sharpened.
KieraYale Mar 2019
Plant yourself around those who help you grow taller, avoid dodder vines and inconspicuous maulers.
JW
i had to wait for gaming to evolve: right now, the only evolution to speak of is the evolution of technology, which has exponential growth: the world around me burns and i burn with it, ingesting a liter of alcohol a day not knowing when to stop: is it painful: am i getting indigestion, heart-burns: yes... but i'm also more alive because of it: i'm not some wanderer, restless nomad with barbiturates: i understand alcohol: Nietzsche didn't... but i don't blame him... but gaming is so much more with the advent of the internet: now i can replenish my thirst for chess with Mech- -Arena ++, it is an imitation of chess it is vamped up chess... i get to orientate my ego, i get to sooth my ego in the abstract, beyond the reality of biology, i can fuse my background in chemistry and hope: to understand: but knowledge doesn't breed hope: understanding comes from hope but knowledge comes from fear... i understand and therefore hope: but i never quiet know whether there's any good to get involved for... but that spiral is a chaos whispering... i want to suckle at the beckoning: i want to speak a language on the border between sea and earth and earth and air: and air and water: and air and fire... i want you pluck my own eye out and give it unto you: dear Archetype: father... how gaming has changed: i was told to be resolute in not finding a PS2 instead settling on a PS1 console plugging it into the t.v.: but now the mobile reconstruction: it almost feels like a ***** colony with people aging to 70 exponentially straining the expected life frequency... are we talking the possibility of philosophy being not bound to youth? are we simply saying: philosophy owns up to old age is old age the new glorified gatekeeping strength of mundane experiencing: this blunt knife is no longer sharp... am i supposing a hammer ought to be sharp to nail nails in: am i speaking of spokes: those skeletal necessities of a bicycle wheel?

before the Hebrews and Jahweh came
to Poland:
it's a strange ordeal of think about it...
but before they came with
YHWH
there was a word: prior to the name of
their god
and in the mouths of the people of
the fields...
JAWA:   in English that's YAVA...
there's no need to implore the H to command
the vowels...
JW                  signature...
google translate just spews out jawa: as java...
it's not dzawa:
na jawie: on waking: awake...

   yavye...
                     i understand now...
no one is going to have a reasonable
conversation with me...

i can stand accused of speaking to her
while falling asleep...
also timid also slightly drunk
also testing marijuana
and that's just lazy...
but at least she's just rummaging
in her everyday and i'm in bed
this 11h time difference referential
is punishing...

before YHWH came to Poland
there was the concept of consciousness
known as the JAWA...
YAVA...
not job to rob whales of:
strange creatures:
mammalian: prone to cult like suicide
pacts getting themselves
beached...
don't you think the whales are sort of saying:
the seas are boiling
we need to find our godhead
and get the **** out of this *******...
i feel that...
i don't intend to stay in England
for much longer:
England is not my BORN & BRED
i don't feel welcome:
i want to live in the kingdom of the oceans
on an island:
i want to live among Polynesians...
i want to ingest their tribal mentality
their tribal scrutiny their tribal security
of authority of loyalty of honor
i want to live among the Polynesians...
i'm going to do it:
even if before that i don't get my driving license
and sober up...
to raise: not my daughter:
my a child is still a child so...
i don't want to live among this bastardized
anti-racist pseudo-Europeans
these cuckold **** suckers!
i don't want to live among these people...
****** sandpit:
i'm taking my vocabulary and ******* off
into the sunset:
and even if that's the last thing i do
i know i'm stalling and assassinating myself
by a default of failing:
but then i'm also a fan of a quasi soap-opera
like i'm a big fan of opera and
especially a fan of ****** opera:
i love a ****** opera:
the type of opera that makes me leave
disgruntled like a phantom and saying:
nein nein nein benign!

thank you English: but i picked this language
for my own sake
it was nothing to be mediated
or explored with for the good of the people
who originated with it:
we can talk politics but we won't talk
politico:

a great wind came and swept me away...
my forefathers dreamed about
******* off to America:
well... i'm wanting to ******* way past
America:
i'll be saying hello and goodbye
while i enter the realm, the dimension,
the strict mental blockade of water with
the Polynesians...
these beyond the measure of the attitude
of the Mongols:
these former Taiwanese oar men
like vikings... hmm similitude...
what's a good broth of a soup on the islands
should you need soup?
so the base would be some meat:
carrots... **** no carrots that grow in the sea...
leeks... potatoes...
celeriac...    young celery stalks...
o.k. workable: not doable though...

**** me: the wicked talk of border-control:
on a ******* island...
you'd almost think if someone whispered
to ******: wait wait...
how about we invade England
by digging a tunnel...
but dwarf technology and innovation
was never part of the quick premature *******
mentality of the Nazis:
cheats... if they only waited and someone
said to them...
pst... hush hush:
let's dig a tunnel... rather than terrorize
from the air...
then again: why did they just drop bombs
avoiding St. Paul's cathedral...
why not just drop a bunch of hulkish manly
Aryan men into the mix?
clearly that wasn't the plan
because i don't know what the English feminine
is since i've been ostracized
and thank **** that i will never **** an English
woman: these days
exponent of foul mouth and neck tattoos
and something a Pakistani **** gang develops
a taste for...
well at least the Romanian prostitutes...
but **** is such a bad taste in a mouth wanting
violence...
how can you: ugh... unimaginable...
but i'm happy: to have lived in England
for... donkey's count of years and never actually
having ****** an English girl...
the grey skies ought to be turning blue at some point:
maybe if i was less able
maybe a Hapsburg jawline...
maybe my teeth are rotten:
maybe my father was right when he said:
are you are hunchback?
i'd return to him and say:
let me find out... but i'll need to fly over to
Hawaii to find out... i'll get back to you...

it almost felt like i was screaming into the night
when it fact i was having *******
explaining the importance of *******
on a man...
i have no respect for circumcised men:
in that i have no respect for the tradition
that thinks that circumcising men
will somehow keep the concept of monogamy
intact...
yes:
baby: i'll get circumcised: aesthetic?
no: i was thinking i'd get circumcised after you
put a ring on this finger...
so that i am no longer able to pleasure
myself:
so i did say: dream talk, borderline:
because i talk in my sleep i want to find
the person who talks falling asleep:

didn't i say that you can do one better
than giving me a *******?
didn't i say: kiss me while ******* me?
isn't that what *** ought to be:
something to work with
a transcendental conversation
a language barrier missing
just gone...
you kiss me while jerking me off
i'm pretty sure you don't have to ****
on that tool...
but that's a prerequisite of the *******:
******* sand-******* and their *****: ugh!
how about we cut the lips off
so that the smile might be more prominent?
it won't be a Chelsea grin:
but a Kenyan oopsie!
still showing teeth? barren *******...
and these are the people that are the spearheads
of all civilization? **** me...
but the ******* is so precious...
it's like that poisonous **** mentality
of inbreeding and the fetish for anti-pig...
what's wrong with the pig
what's the point of glorifying cow
when you know you can eat red
meat because the chances of ingesting parasites
from raw steak are so slim?!
cluck cluck cluck-oh-ooh!
chicken farts... blurp:        now i will have
my berserker fun!
   but i know how to contain alcohol: so i can
talk *** and not permit myself
to feeding off violence:
because i believe that the best sort of ***
is: an imitation of violence: contained...
measured:
deliberated: kept in strict of confines of
dialogue: beyond any measure:
attempted by Socrates...

so before Jahweh and his He-brew crew found
their way to the odd sanctuary of
Poland where: i guess because the Poles
defended the last pilgrims of the winds
that were the Lithuanians... the last pagans of
Europe:
well: besides the Prussians who inverted
what wasn't Germanic...
come to think of it: the best way to digest
history is by treating is like a comic book script:
write the words:
the images come later...
so then the Hebrews came to Poland
(how the **** did they get there,
i don't ******* know)
it's almost mythical in the stance of: huh?
so many of them?

the moment i hear one Jew tell me about
the Polish collaboration with the Nazis:
it took...
**** Germany, Soviet Russia...
and the Slovaks to invade Poland...
and it took them... 2 weeks...
it took the same amount of time if not less
for only **** Germany to invade France...
*******...

yeah: well: some probably did:
but last time i heard...
there are more Polish names on the hall of flame
fame... flame... whatever somewhere
in Jerusalem...
but yo: you still circumcised!
i could understand doing a van Gogh's ear
but if these are the people we sow
to find spiritual guidance:
no wonder i'm hearing of Wōðanaz:
woovanaz...
  that's: ð of the
              and not the ᚠ of thought...

                   i think Nietzsche predicted he was
moving outside the Germanic realm
and into the Slavic realm by crying out:
i'm Polish! i'm Polish!
apparently "we" are the French of the Slavic people...

oh the brute:
that Malachi was so wrong: Malachi 4:5...
reincarnation goes against all the supposed
superiority logic of monotheism!
reincarnation of either Jesus or Elijah are
horrendous grievances against man's commitment
to monotheism!
it would have been best
to astound the world with the atheism
of China or the polytheism of India
than to succumb to this constipated and
circumcision frenzy mind ****!
cut an ear off! cut a ****** off!
how these people are not considered as bad
as the Pigme and the cannibals
who sharpen their teeth without having
any maulers i will never want to know!
how about cutting a toe off?
the ******* phallus aesthetic improved:
again!
if you want to truly fathom an unbreakable
bond of monogamy like
an imitation of swan... go for it:
sure thing gurl:
i'll snippet my hand movements off
when you decide to put a ring on this finger...
until then?
nein nein nein!

so now a circumcised **** and donning
the kippah is something of an elevated status?
outside the realm of a somewhat sensible
secularism:
at one point i didn't actually consider
myself a leftist liberal...
or rather a liberal:
but since i've aged i'm just agitated
about conservation projects...
beside wanting to be a gardener: in thought alone...
notably when you read:
oh thoughts are just thoughts
and actions speak louder than words
and words are no carriers of meaning...
actions:
hmm: so you would better understand
if i punched you in the face?
that's what it has culminated into:
words are not carriers of meaning...
spoken as a true dyslexic...
but images are ******* mesmerizing!
images convey meaning: words don't...
well then...
it only feels appropriate to speak
that sign language of a clenched fist:

                             clearly... what else is there?
but i shouldn't worry:
i hope to not live in England come October...
if i'm not on Kauai by December
then at least i'll be dead.
even before Southport unfolded
i was having a difficult week:
i could blame it on the heat
and the fact that my bedroom faces sunrise
that i would wake up exhausted...
in hindsight:
with some trepidation...

          i can't say i was on good terms with
this guy:
a bit like Chinaski in the Post Office:
for some reason:
i attract the attention of weirdos and "losers":
and i also get called one:
my posture and diameters don't
disguise me well enough
to sieve through societal expectations
of what winning implies
in this mortal realm:
i'm not a fan of automobiles:
i don't own a car for the sake of practicality
the mere idea of operating
an exoskeleton rather than
being exposed to the elements on
a bicycle...

             i wasn't a "fan" of this guy
i wasn't his friend:
he jousted a few times: argumentatively:
friction tenderness:
yes: i did make fun imitating his
strange Picasso mannerisms
his idiosyncratic wobble of the head
but even with another outcast of Darwinism:
a Martin:
i did say there was something Anti-Socratic
in: with a personality like that
regardless of his physical posturing:
there is something irredeemable
that life could be so cruel:
and life was cruel to Mark Leggett...
he couldn't escape the bullying...
a solipsism through and through...

and it's not like this is the death of
a family relative:
a person drops dead on the street:
shock, awe, horror...
a relative dies, accomplishing old age:
certain complications as to the details
of a death: the agony of a mother
the agony of a mother against her own mother
and you're strapped in between
trying to make sense of:
better to poach eggs than to fry them:
i still find it impossible to put salt
on boiled eggs,
poached eggs...
fried eggs...
scrambled eggs though? i have to salt them:
any other variation:
NO SALT ALLOWED...

so for almost a week i was being fed
this cosmic: existential: oogie boogie...
lethargic: no reason why
i can blame the heat:
i should be happily going about my day
getting a suntan...
last night was the first night
i put on my night-guard...
oh jeez: the unconscious seeped through
i has gnashing like a zombie
thirsty like a vampire
and about as mad as a werewolf...

but for the first time
i didn't get out of bed
to have my nightly nibble...
apparently sleeping with someone,
intimately, reveals your nightly
struggles:
my bite so relentless i could
actually bite off bits of my teeth:
and it's the front teeth chattering:
the problem i have is with my maulers:
i keep on chewing
and chewing: and obviously it would
be a bad idea to fall asleep
while chewing gum:
but i had fluorescent glitter stones
for eyes last night...

i woke up and the message read:
sister finds brother dead in his flat...
so is this punishment:
knowing him intimately is not:
suicide? it must have been suicide:
i can't imagine his life...
well: at least some less suffering
in this world...
but ******* Southport?!
and the audacity of the media:
even today on the radio some "high authority"
judge: whatever...
this politicization of a tragedy:

three children get murdered
and suddenly it's a ******* "far right coup de e'tat"?!
can't it just be a primitive outright
mob cry for: what the **** is going on?!
oh: the narrative proposed by this judge was:
oh this is just another summer fever
pitch: football hooliganism
part and parcel of just: living life...
well: count my Sherlocks and dress me up
in a tutu... i don't think i have any marbles left!

far right, mob outrage?
so the best the left has to offer is slanting
zombie-slogans
when existentialism: beside any safety of
ideology: comes knocking on the door
and there are no longer available slogans
kinship of "**** scums off our streets"...
about time for the "nazis" to start buying
property, then; no?

we had out differences... at work...
but i succumbed to finally admitting:
but he looks intimidating with that freakish
posture of his: he is, useful...
so weird hearing about the death
of a coworker...
because it's so vaguely familiar of
how we don't treat mortality with anything
but: the unfamiliar stage fright...
it's also that someone so loosely associated
with your daily grind
someone who wasn't loved by you
cared by you
frivolous to you
a nuisance to you...
just like i can't digest killing a spider
or a fly...
this other night i actually allowed a mosquito
to drink from my neck:

the night was so serene since
the moon dipped into the oceans early
and became Poseidon, *****:
took another Medusa harlot for some
interracial inter-species fuckery...
jeez:
today i've been hearing a Morse code
in my ear...
a pressure with my eardrum bulging...
setting off strange rhythms...

i don't understand why being strapped to reality
this inescapable tract of "coincidences":
sure: he was difficult:
but as much as i didn't like him
i still tried to work with him:
and he would still come up to me
bother me with that talk
and god: those teeth:
i did admire how he was almost like
my great-grandmother
able to withstand all that rot and pain
but still able to eat using his gums
that became as revealing as bone...
and how his personal hygiene begged
for water
and how for: some strange, ******* reason:
he would pinch off the tops of cigarettes:
but wouldn't keep the pinches
(or maybe he did)
to later roll up a new cigarette:
but he didn't have the ******* caliber to roll
cigarettes...

and that punchline of:
i've been working at a steward for 13 years...
yet such was this an imperfection of man
that he couldn't even
try to get a security license
and just listened
and listened
and followed orders
and became so difficult as a man
since he was never a man
but this monstrosity and i...
just tried to understand:
but even my patience was tested
and to think who his father might have been
although that was never disclosed
and how his mother conceived him
and it was as if divine mercy:
and cruelty:
to experience life with such bad lot...
it comes beyond the realm of pity
but from a realm of: this wasp like determination:
this quasi-parasitical vigor of life:
because you can't call it a vigor for life...
this sickly twisted and very much Igor...

suicide... i guess so:
then again he did have such terrible habits
almost zero net gain from
nutrition...
but i like to think i was tortured these
past days
because i was sensing a passing:
which is why these bouts of Charon:
i was literally passing a soul from this realm
to the realm of the exalted in no longer suffering...
i was giving birth to death...
who's death? i couldn't tell you:
but i was in labor... i was giving birth to death...
which is strange for anyone to understand
a woman couldn't possible comprehend
the cul de sac of a masculine existential dilemma:
since i can't give birth to life:
as a man i can give birth to death...
and that's not by means of ******:
giving birth to death is not causing death...
giving birth to death is cryptic as it is wholly
anti-birth:

DEO rTH bi ody...

                          then coincide that chattering
in the night:
since unlike chewing gum a night guard does so much
more...

very much Biblical:
a place where there's gnashing of the teeth:
who isn't to say Hell
and who isn't to say Heaven:
whereas the former is familiar
and human grotesque:
the latter is godly and all the more terrifying:
a place where murdered children go
and if that isn't terrifying i
think i can stomach this Hell and Hearth...
because i escaped from the clutches
of a "lucy letby":
strange: how no mob furor:
then again it was a boy killing children
and still: no collective consciousness
no protests
of a lucy letby: widow of silence...

no i couldn't possibly call xenophobia a
form of racism:
but the boy we learn
was from Rwanda: and how the newspapers
lost the plot
by starting the article:
oh: didn't you know about the genocide that
took place over there:
his parents escaped:

but wasn't he "born and bred": British?
i'm just the mongrel
who came to England:
i am not "born" or "bred" of this land...
mongrel of ideas:
not by standards of breeding:
i'm pedigree...
but but but but...        buttocks...

what a spectacular dream:
Hellraiser 10...
i stopped following the franchise after the fifth
movie:
but in this dream all the cenobites were
present: as humans:
desperate to imbue their tortured forms:
and Pin-head was bleeding through
his eyes:
a ghost in a ghost glass elevator:
sort of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
with god the ***** Wonka...
somehow:
if god is the artist of dreams
then i had that dream...

oh a simple feast:
cauliflower, boiled
to that event horizon
of still some bite
but almost a buttery
discovery of the taste
of cauliflower...
fondant potatoes...
fried eggs...
breadcrumbs browned in butter
drizzled over the cauliflower...
a simple feast...

**** me: cassette,
wheel frame,
rubber rubber: tire and inner tube inflatable,
82 quid!
i bought it because
i didn't want to be coming back
home empty handed with
the ****** up wheel:
just walking around with a wheel
feels like homage to the Indian flag
and Elijah...

700c x 23mm:
that's the diameter and the width:
no one cycles on 23mm wheels these days...
but for 200 quid i can get a new bicycle:
what's the point of buying parts:
if i were to buy a bicycle from parts:
i'd be looking at three times the worth
of a bicycle...
but i bought it... then returned:

funny... i don't remember there being
a Police cordon at Chadwell Heath High Street
when i went there at circa 2pm...
the supposed incident happened at 12:30pm
a cyclist fell... "fell"...
**** me: i've cycled drunk and flew over
the handlebars and cracked my head
open
then walked home and slept for 10 hours:
but i don't remember anyone making such
a fuss... as to close off traffic:
i was lucky that people thought it was
concussion
rather than me being drunk and exciting
and that motorist just jumped out
and bandaged my head
and that was that...

mind you the R.A.F. did fight the Luftwaffe
while drunk...
the latter were kites of amphetamines
while the R.A.F. were ****-heads...
who one the war?
the chemistry barons meister tropes
or the drunk lunatics who fought
for a land we currently live in...

maybe, once upon a time:
Islam had an allure for such noblemen
as Byron to don the Ottoman exotica robes...
maybe Islam had an allure in the past:
but then the 21st century has shown as
how provincial and backward Islam
can be: as special as any other religion...
the Islam of Pakistan
is not the Islam of Saudi Arabia:
we know as much about the Christianity
of England and
the Christianity of Serbia... no?

i still don't understand how Russophobia works...
all the genius of this world
held by only one country: like that?
but somehow Islamophobia is not the fear
of spiders?
someone please explain to me
why Russia is not waging an educational affront
against the western flaccid ideomorgue:
it's not an ideology: it's a necropolis of gherkins...
an ideomorgue...
and such outrage at the Civil War in Syria:
yeah: the Syrians are fighting each other:
are you Syrian?
so no matter Oliver Cromwell?

  the Russians can at least say: dear Ukrainians:
please don't let us lose you
like we lost the Polacks to their Germanophile ways...
come back... come back...
war is a hyper educational reconstruction...
without glorifying it:
war is education...
        unless it's not war but genocide:
oddly enough the Nazis are weird like that:
educating in one parallel
to the genocidal: which makes them so short
lived and paradoxical and
on the tip of the tongue of useful idiots...

— The End —