before i begin, a pre-scriptum...
         in my hand, this minute?
                   what a rare delight...
the Beauties of Sterne:
                                with some account of his life...
printed for J. Walker,
published by J. Walker, Paternoster Row &
   J. Harris, St. Paul's Church Yard...
London... 1811!
    and being a big "fan boy" of the fiction
that a bibliophile might have an adventure:
Roman Polanski's the Ninth Gate...
   now, for a book that's... 208 years old?!
it's not in bad shape... sure...
the hardcover is missing by a half...
but all the text is intact...
              obviously colouring of the pages...
but hey... i'm not a museum...
             the book is still fiddled with...
ha ha, the opening page with a picture
reads as follows:
   there are worse occupations in this world,
than feeling a woman's pulse...
perhaps a quote about... insensibility?
   it reads as follows:
       it is the fate of mankind, too often,
to insensible of what they may enjoy at
the easiest rate (sermon XLII)...
   besides, lucky for me youtube continues
to glitch from time to time...
    now looking more in line with channels
than individual artists...
   notably? Harakiri Diat (channel)...
eh... :wumpscut, the soft machine,
demdike stare, vomito *****, feindflug
weren't enough...
          turns out... there's more...
beyond penta, matutero and GloOMy
PhAntOM... well, please, allow me:
   filmmaker - the love market,
              la ***** bianca - demian...
hell... if you want to venture into the past?
i know one band that freaked out
my ex-girlfriend... gong - flying teapot...
or that song by greenskeepers, lotion...
               i thought i'd never see someone
become freaked out about music...
curios and also highly curious, yes...
but freaked out?
                 primitive knot - puritan...
demolition group - you better...
          1986 Yugoslav minimal electro...
Bruce Roach - Gut...
              and as it turns out...
    i look from this corner of the internet and find
absolutely no need to delve into
the dark web... install Tor...
           if you really want to...
  you'll find all you need... but you need
to sift through a bibliography of a book prior
to... it's all here... this sort of material
has an inbuilt filter... it filters out
             mainstream consumers of content...
i should know...
    3 websites that banned me,
1 suspended me...
                   i crossed the threshold...
    normie poetic: outcast *****...
           yet i still sometimes happened to chance
upon a will...
           lao che - soundtrack (the whole album
is decent) -
              


.i once heard it was based upon the following maxims: bogatemu wszystko wolno (the rich are allowed anything), siła razy gwałt (force multiplied by ****)... well... over the years, that much was true... but then i conjured a reply: nie wszystko wolno bogatemu (not everything is given an allowance to be expressed by the rich) and wola odiąć gwałt (will, having substracted ****): otherwise it's still wola razy gwałt (will, multiplied by ****).

****, i only just "woke" up from
this game,
you know that game...
oh i'm pretty sure you know it...
it's called
   pass the jew along...
   rudolf höss
      cited, among the list:
ibrahim ibn yaqub,
         radhanites (there's a surd
H in there, rad-'anites)
    casimir III...
esp. the latter...
           so.. give the current h'americans,
we're still playing the globalist
nomad game of: juggling the jews,
yes, no, maybe?
so my mother tended to
two old jewish women,
because, just "because"
their sons were active in
the "economics" of passing law
and techno-literacy?
oh... right... i "see"...
                            i... "see"...
in defence, of the "neglected" ones...
makes perfect sense,
de facto 51,
                  area 51 was always
a propaganda convert term
for Israel, rather than some area
bound to Nevada, wansn't it?
wasn't it?
                      ask me again
one year from now,
did we live peacefully among the jews?
they'll tell you the joke...
didn't the jews shoot,
with riffles,
   with bent barrels / sights
aiming at themselves rather
than the nazis?
       no, no soap jokes when
it comes to yews...
the yids...
      everyone in poland just
wondered: why so pacified?
        so blatant in walking into
an inferno?
                      you know...
it took Poland longer to surrender,
while being attacked by both
the Germans and the Russians,
than it took for the Fwench
to be attacked by the sole effort
of the Germans?
    funny... that...
                               i truly admire
some nazis, for their ingenuity...
notably? erwin rommel...
   lothar von arnauld de la periè(re)...
(subtle, i give you that one,
per-y'eh...
                 'old 'ack 'old 'ck
   h-b-h-b,
                                    rein in...
otherwise perié... ergo without
                                           the -re)...
michael wittmann...
and i'm a ******...
      **** me...
they didn't bomb paris,
might as well state:
they also didn't bomb
  marienburg or most of danzig...
Warsaw? taken down,
levelled, brick by brick,
        until no brick stood on brick...
              what?!
i thought the western capitalist-ico
communist insurgents
wanted target practice?
          i thought these people
wanted nazis, no?
          i'll admit... tiki torches?
you must have never looked
at european football hooligans...
tiki torches?!
you having a bbq?
            never heard of flares?        
- mind you...
you know what's worse beside
beind ridiculed?
having your intelligence
insulted...
i.e. do i look like someone
who managed to ****
your mother with a *******
harmonica,
or, am i, bound to the responsibility,
of your parents playing
the irresponsibility card,
attempting to convey a child
into existence aged circa 50
circa 45,
and what comes out is
an autistic cucumber?!
    **** me...
try giving ****** lessons
to circa 50 year olds;
and now the paradox...
   "i'm" the "schizophrenic"...
cool cool, coolio...
     i'll just hide in that "harem's"
worth of a brothel with
the prostitutes who tell
me they get s.t.d. checks on
a regular basis, o.k.?
_____

what am i to add to this?
not much, is there...
was the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald
ever great?!
  how satisfying it is to be unable
to please the crowd....
words, after all, are not bread...
how one wishes
for an anathema rather than
a martyr's embrace...
            one begins to imagine...
then one loses interest...
then...
                    peering through
the eye of a needle
watching a camel walk through...
one spots something outside
the realm of the metaphorical miracle...
do i have to?
      what if i remain to this side
of the eye of the needle?
what riches do i have that i cling to...
books & music...
does that make me rich?
what are the sort of riches where either
people plunder readily (music),
or do not engage with to begin
with?
who are ready to read...
i can claim to be a book thief...
i stole two books from my high school
library... the quran and the scarlet &
the black by stendhal...
            "stole"... i extended their
licance of being borrowed...
how am i rich: if my riches are the riches
no one would want to steal?!
i am rich... though...
               but i am rich in a both
materialistic / non-materialistic paradox
frame...
                what i own no one wants to
steal! why steal a first cheap edition
of a dickens' novel if you're not going
to read it!
              
       **** **** ****.... if they were such
philistines... when blitzing London,
why did st. paul's remain intact?
   "coinicidence"? i don't think so...
and why did they steal all those
art-works? again, "coincidence"?

                    they were people:
i find it uncomfortable to suit them up
in transcendence,
to be: epitome evil...
  to be the übermensch...
                   they loved art as much
as they loved being the antithesis
of the golden horde: gucci, dolce & gabbana
zz top: well dressed men...

     nazis loved art and fashion,
by far the best dressed army in the world
and history...

   ol' herman and otto came back
from the eastern front to a scared wife and mother...
people! they weren't mythical creatures...
the nazis can hardly become
chimeras as they become in the minds
of pseudo-communists of the western lands...

they are hardly the epitome of evil,
i know the 21st century narrative
deems them: "the perfect example"...
come on... they're not evil embodied
with not subsequent examples to be given
to... historical capitalism of evil:
there's always someone waiting,
some group of people to stage
a competition libra... and they will...
overcome the nazis...
it's only a question of ingenuity /
imagination...
           gas chambers was only industrial...
it will become personal in the years to come...
methodologically trained cultured
barbarians woken from a slumber...

the nazis were not: philistines...
   in no defence: didn't they speed up the creation
of the state of israel?
   didn't they? **** uncle:
   lavrentiy pavlovich Beria is going to state
the matters differently?
like hell he is...

        my family also suffered in that war...
sure, not in a concentration camp:
but on the front...
             there's even a joke that my
grandfather remembers:
the jews were shooting with bent nozzles
of riffles...
   as he also remembers two ss-men
who he asked for sweets,
and they would give them to him,
he'd as them: herr! bitte bon-bon!
   sweets so sweet that he would have
to rinse his hands under water
to unglue them from the sickly in-between...
how all the insurgent soviet soldiers
were teenagers and preferred to
sleep in pigstys and among the goats
in the hay...

how did the nazis become mythological
i will never understand,
at uni i had a **** history teacher,
canadian, she really liked my essay
on napoleon... how he was a great
strategist...
akin to?  

   erwin rommel wasn't a ****...
erwin rommel was, erwin rommel...
a great strategist...
        am i supposed to thrive in this
current year of polarized *******?
it's the current topic,
i can't escape it,
  sure, i'd love to have a Wordsworth
moment, lurking in me,
or an anna akhmatova breakthough...
instead?! i'm given this sort of *******
on a platter,
  and all that's missing are the wedges
of lemon and the eager oysters to
be gulped down... lucky me!

no, i don't like how the nazis are misrepresented
as both the übermenschen:
these mythological epitomes of evil
(no greater evil is to come? really?!)
and at the same time
as philistines: they stole art,
they ensured that critically cultural
documents of architecture were left
undisturbed... st. paul's cathedral...

         it's not like some otto or moritz
didn't come back home to a wife
and children... no...
he came back to the shadow cult
of the ******* hanging over him...

you know what the most haunting experience
i have ever experienced was?
Ypres... world war I site...
visiting a german cemetary...
compared to the allies cemetary?
**** me, what a meagre sight!
           the allies were burried with marked
graves, each man to his own cross...
the german burial ground?!
  mass graves....
eh: one marker: 200 bodies in one pit...
                 and here's the 21st century with
games about shooting: zee nat'zees...

   just visit the world war I cemetaries...
the ally cemetaries? square miles...
each man with his white cross...
german cemetaries? as mass graves go...
one marker per 200+ troops...
so... not that much space required...
less: bombast!
               pride & prejudice /
   pomp & circumstance...
   which the english speaking world is...
of the latter convenience to suit the narrative.

to reiterate...
   as a ******... the whole german fetish
isn't my kind of gig...
what with my grandmother being born
on the front... given opiates at an early
age so she would not cry and allow
the soldiers to locate her and my gread-grandparents...
but...
   they were the best dressed army in
the history of warfare...
they were not philistines and they certainly
weren't the mongolian golden horde...
i.e. they stole art, notably jewish artwork...
and if a luftwaffe squadron were to drop
a bomb on st. paul's? they'd probably
be shot...
  after all... Posen wasn't destroyed,
Breslau wasn't destroyed...
        Danzig wasn't destroyed...
Cracow wasn't destroyed...
             o.k., half of Warsaw was,
but we know why that happened
(or at least i do... idealist students who
thought they could fight the enemy
with slingshots and air-pistols)...
why? the Germans were simply thinking:
oh... we'll just be moving back...
i once explained it to myself...
they weren't exactly some mythological
grand evil template...
so i started thinking about them as:
Hans von Seeckt...
  or Otto Hertz...
              or some other german random
soldier...
      well... you should travel to Ypres,
Belgium... and visit a German cemetary
from war world I... then visit
the allies graveyard...
       each soldier, individually buried...
with his pwetty pwetty weißkreuz -
mostly named...
                 now visit a german cemetary...
mass.... graves...
                they just dumped them,
heaped them...
                        to me they were people...
you can't exactly reason with a mythological
evil - an archeological evil,
   an archetypical evil...
          for an archetypical evil?
try the nuclear family...
                         ******... that sort of thing...
child abuse... too many actors
were involved in this story,
too many mistakes, too many naive blunders...
evil on this scale is easily diluted...
which is why it's taught as history,
in schools...
   no one will teach children about...
oh... say... the Wiener Blut scenario...
   Josef Fritzl...
                    i'm pretty sure this will not be
taught in a history class...
                or... the H. H. Holmes Hotel story...
but it might become a jack the ripper
tourist-fetish... might it not? well, it already is.

She traces her finger across my palm, her eyes not on my hands but on me. How does she know where to go?

Line by line. I read you line by line.

I have never been felt like I am felt by you.
What exactly do you call this? I ask

Discovering you, she answers. Unearthing you.

What about my fault lines?

What about your fault lines? She keeps tracing.

Are you avoiding them?

No, she says.

I am not scared of fault lines. I am not scared of a single earthquake originating from you. As long as it's yours, I am the world ready to be shaken to her core.

You're stupid for that.
I am keeping a lot from you.
You won't love me.
You will hurt. Stop unearthing.

She says she knows, on all counts. And I am not to worry, on all counts.

And like this she dismisses my concerns methodologically. And in this way I trust her.

And in this way my trust comes to a head, and I tell her something that she wouldn't have otherwise have known.

I felt you today.

I wish I could be felt by you everyday, she answers.

So I trace my hands on her face, not avoiding anything, trying intentionally to get to the fault line, trying to get an earthquake to start in her.

But nothing shakes.

i never felt such a terrible pain in my heart...
until: this very day... the 27th August 2021...
the pain was so strong i felt a heart-attack was
imminent... what else?!
did someone die... was a second Napoleon born?!
it truly felt like a labour of sorts:
circa 9pm: through to circa 10pm...
who has been born? my heart ached...
i blamed it on the excesses of alcohol consumption primo...
but i reminded myself:
when you cycle into London
you're bound to come back to the suburbs with
grit on your forehead... that same grit
you breathe in...

to hell with happiness!
   zu hölle mit fröhlichkeit!
if i were happy: loose my northern inhibitions...
lose my melancholic outlook on life
i'd loose all curiosity for life!
ich würde alles neugierde für leben!
i don't want to be happy: by happiness i'd stretch
a synonym: content &... oblivious...
i want to be tinged with a layer of sadness...
why oh why? why o why?!
i'm mortal: aren't i?!
i'm not here for an indefinite purpose like: A...
most definitely: that's THE point!
those camel jockeys of Dubai are happy...
but look how stupid they are...
thinking themselves immortal...
running dry the dinosaur-juice...
all the Pakistanis abhor the Arabs...
that the whole world congregated onto London
i'm laughing at myself:
so... where's the part where i walk across
the Thames? the whole world's here!
it might: just might... be a pinch of salt
on old wounds: anyone reviving the flight
of zeppelins? just saying... the whole world is here...
something spectacular is supposed to happen:
i can feel it...
me... i stopped a 20 mile cycle route to St. Paul's
for a black coffee... a *******: h'americano...
some sugar... a sly 50ml of whiskey i dropped like
a bomb... read a few pages of a book...
lazed... looked... lion-esque: copper-neck that
i am... these few months of the year...
that it's sad that i have to beef up writing in no
introspective: self-critical for some... assurance of:
well someone ought to love me...
if no one's willing: best do it myself...
but i'm still stretching it to the love of the english
zunge...
if the Turkish ******* thinks i'm Ing-leash...
i must be... living on the other side of "wall"...
where the Germans and German-esque tribes begin...
and where the Slavs... cornered the Huns
and the Mongols into Crimea...
i guess living among the Ing-Leash: am i?
the whole world is here...
i look the part... then again: if you have a Turkish
barber... and **** a Turkish ******* from time
to time... who wouldn't: "look, the, part"?
grr... this language... it's a second fetish...
my first fetish being: the ancient one...
since i scribble it... methodologically in a way
that proves that: i can't speak it...
perhaps i just troll it...
    since... old habits die hard... historical inheritance
doesn't... ******* Schvabs... Krzyżak...
but thank **** for that...
for a minute there i thought i was living in Germany...
which is so bothersome to think
of the English as... Germanic peoples...
for the first time in my life i'm having
trouble in thinking the English are...
very closely related to... zee Germans...
some etymological starting points...
but... they're not... they're... not?!
like an Australian isn't a... because of his...
newly invented accent?!
there's nothing more insufferable than
a H'american accent...
           sorry... can't be done in my ear:
to my ear: sounds like...
an elephant stepping onto a clarinet...
squashing it... then aiming with the *******
rather than the trunk to play it...
exclaiming: look! saxophone works!
its "****" (the accent's quality) might have
an appeal on a man in... Iraq... or... Ukraine...
i hear a woman speak with that accent i'm like:
guess who...
no... really... it's that sing-along... (the) guess who...

reason with me: o gods...
   for this is how i acknowledge you
acknowledging me!
whenever you send me a dream!
like Hamlet i too could:
be bounded to a nutshell: perhaps
even in a nutshell...
i have no concern for being
a king of infinite space:
   just give unto me my complete self
eternally bound:
changeless - forever stone upon
stone placed...
were it not for bad dreams?!
how about dreams at all!
i'm starving from a lack of dreams:
am i not ambitious enough
am i too common to be graced with
clues in the form of dreams?!
how one's day unfolds when
one can recollect a dream for
an hour in the morning!
i woke into this glorious day
having dreamt of being
given... about a dozen if not more
types of apples by a most
agreeable woman...
she sliced each apple into
quarters...
i dream so rarely that it has started
to bother me: insurmountably!
summer is finally coming to a close...
i anticipate September:
like each year: in this most glorious
of lands... a September's Indian Summer
in England...
as a joke: since the children are going
back to school...
glorious land...
immeasurable land of depth and hope...
agreed! ol' saxon met
a ******* Frenchman...
it flows more freely... never mind...
ol' cousin... neighbour of the continent...

who wouldn't want to love living among
the Ing-Leash...
i'd want to: i want to live among these people
so much that i don't want to live with my...
ugh... "******" genetically same...
cousins of the Polacks...
i'm tired of hearing about the second world war...
i'm tired of being someone lodged in between
the Germans and the Russians...
making middle ground with the.... Lithuanians...
the left-over Jews...
the Estonians: who?
the Romanians... Bulgarians...
the rest of the Yugoslavs...
to hell with huddling together to bring up some...
wait... wasn't communism first implied as...
hijacking the 19th century romance
of pan-Slavism...
pancake the Germans tribes together...
one will speak Dutch... the other the phlegm
of Flemish... the other...
Gall... and G'ah-Ul... stating: came the Romans
came Charlemagne...
elder scrolls with the Scandinavian roots...
i'll sooner pretend to be German than...
ha ha! ally myself with the ******* goat-*******
that the Russians are...

let's reimagine... an urban Pakistani
shop-owner... i'm so indistinguishable from him...
i'm almost gagging to ask him:
so... you're an anglophile?
i would ask the same question: thoroughly...
before the altar of the bereft would-be Jihadi wowing-rho-
rhinos...

perhaps a medley of lyrics in: alt schvabe might
aid my little project:
i'm content with sadness:
it allows me to reiterate...
long gone this past forever refreshed: arrived at:
rekindled:

nun erst lebe ich mir werde
       sit min sundic ouge siht...
das reine land und auch die erde

die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft...
   hey'ah hey'ah...
              so klingt uns seine kunde!

ich: halbherz...
          
             wir sind des Geyers schwarzen haufen..
hi-y'ah! ***!
und wollen mit tyrannem raufen; hi-yah: ah: **!
spieß voran, drauf und dran
               setztz auf klosterdach den roten hahn...

looking for angry young men:
perhaps also: ha-ha-ite?!

    not much fan of a Hamlet.... but please...
point me to the aisle where
Macbeth is sitting...

das reine land und auch die erde...
der man so viel der ehren giht...
mir is geschehen: worum ich stets bat...

Niemy człowiek...
niema mowa: gotów...
    
schöne länder ***** und herrlich...

perhaps the Ing-Leash don't moind...
to hell with the Ing-Leash...
they have their own...
African-bonanza to... mind...

among the Turkish prostitutes i look
English... among the English i look
H'American...
among the Germans i look:
Germany...
among my own folk i look...
i don't really care for my own genetically
****** folk...
hello Calypso...
               among the English...
come to think of it...
perhaps i spent too much time with
the Brits... with the Scots... the Welsh...
to care... what the supposed mainstream...
dictates?! aren't the Irish a separate / separatist
"plague" of people?

i just ask because... oh sure... me... local...
me local goes as far as...
ha ha ha: Cornwall! comfy retirement!
vide cor meum!
i'm here on a loan...
one can almost forget the Irish...
romancing the German tongue...
when one is pretending it to come out...
"it": post-Germanic... Saxophone-Pomeranian...
best felt choke joke among the Celts..
yo... Yuri... Gaga... the Brit?
Ing... so.. no IRA leash?
because... the Welsh... oh... right... they still
keep their tongue... no?

on these isles... one tends to...
forget... the anglo-saxon ambivalence
of: strutting it straight: yo...
this peudo-first: Berliner....
                   scoop up the Scots & call 'em
baron.

i never felt such a terrible pain in my heart...
until: this very day... the 27th August 2021...
the pain was so strong i felt a heart-attack was
imminent... what else?!
did someone die... was a second Napoleon born?!
it truly felt like a labour of sorts:
circa 9pm: through to circa 10pm...
who has been born? my heart ached...
i blamed it on the excesses of alcohol consumption primo...
but i reminded myself:
when you cycle into London
you're bound to come back to the suburbs with
grit on your forehead... that same grit
you breathe in...

to hell with happiness!
   zu hölle mit fröhlichkeit!
if i were happy: loose my northern inhibitions...
lose my melancholic outlook on life
i'd loose all curiosity for life!
ich würde alles neugierde für leben!
i don't want to be happy: by happiness i'd stretch
a synonym: content &... oblivious...
i want to be tinged with a layer of sadness...
why oh why? why o why?!
i'm mortal: aren't i?!
i'm not here for an indefinite purpose like: A...
most definitely: that's THE point!
those camel jockeys of Dubai are happy...
but look how stupid they are...
thinking themselves immortal...
running dry the dinosaur-juice...
all the Pakistanis abhor the Arabs...
that the whole world congregated onto London
i'm laughing at myself:
so... where's the part where i walk across
the Thames? the whole world's here!
it might: just might... be a pinch of salt
on old wounds: anyone reviving the flight
of zeppelins? just saying... the whole world is here...
something spectacular is supposed to happen:
i can feel it...
me... i stopped a 20 mile cycle route to St. Paul's
for a black coffee... a *******: h'americano...
some sugar... a sly 50ml of whiskey i dropped like
a bomb... read a few pages of a book...
lazed... looked... lion-esque: copper-neck that
i am... these few months of the year...
that it's sad that i have to beef up writing in no
introspective: self-critical for some... assurance of:
well someone ought to love me...
if no one's willing: best do it myself...
but i'm still stretching it to the love of the english
zunge...
if the Turkish ******* thinks i'm Ing-leash...
i must be... living on the other side of "wall"...
where the Germans and German-esque tribes begin...
and where the Slavs... cornered the Huns
and the Mongols into Crimea...
i guess living among the Ing-Leash: am i?
the whole world is here...
i look the part... then again: if you have a Turkish
barber... and **** a Turkish ******* from time
to time... who wouldn't: "look, the, part"?
grr... this language... it's a second fetish...
my first fetish being: the ancient one...
since i scribble it... methodologically in a way
that proves that: i can't speak it...
perhaps i just troll it...
    since... old habits die hard... historical inheritance
doesn't... ******* Schvabs... Krzyżak...
but thank **** for that...
for a minute there i thought i was living in Germany...
which is so bothersome to think
of the English as... Germanic peoples...
for the first time in my life i'm having
trouble in thinking the English are...
very closely related to... zee Germans...
some etymological starting points...
but... they're not... they're... not?!
like an Australian isn't a... because of his...
newly invented accent?!
there's nothing more insufferable than
a H'american accent...
           sorry... can't be done in my ear:
to my ear: sounds like...
an elephant stepping onto a clarinet...
squashing it... then aiming with the *******
rather than the trunk to play it...
exclaiming: look! saxophone works!
its "****" (the accent's quality) might have
an appeal on a man in... Iraq... or... Ukraine...
i hear a woman speak with that accent i'm like:
guess who...
no... really... it's that sing-along... (the) guess who...

reason with me: o gods...
   for this is how i acknowledge you
acknowledging me!
whenever you send me a dream!
like Hamlet i too could:
be bounded to a nutshell: perhaps
even in a nutshell...
i have no concern for being
a king of infinite space:
   just give unto me my complete self
eternally bound:
changeless - forever stone upon
stone placed...
were it not for bad dreams?!
how about dreams at all!
i'm starving from a lack of dreams:
am i not ambitious enough
am i too common to be graced with
clues in the form of dreams?!
how one's day unfolds when
one can recollect a dream for
an hour in the morning!
i woke into this glorious day
having dreamt of being
given... about a dozen if not more
types of apples by a most
agreeable woman...
she sliced each apple into
quarters...
i dream so rarely that it has started
to bother me: insurmountably!
summer is finally coming to a close...
i anticipate September:
like each year: in this most glorious
of lands... a September's Indian Summer
in England...
as a joke: since the children are going
back to school...
glorious land...
immeasurable land of depth and hope...
agreed! ol' saxon met
a ******* Frenchman...
it flows more freely... never mind...
ol' cousin... neighbour of the continent...

who wouldn't want to love living among
the Ing-Leash...
i'd want to: i want to live among these people
so much that i don't want to live with my...
ugh... "******" genetically same...
cousins of the Polacks...
i'm tired of hearing about the second world war...
i'm tired of being someone lodged in between
the Germans and the Russians...
making middle ground with the.... Lithuanians...
the left-over Jews...
the Estonians: who?
the Romanians... Bulgarians...
the rest of the Yugoslavs...
to hell with huddling together to bring up some...
wait... wasn't communism first implied as...
hijacking the 19th century romance
of pan-Slavism...
pancake the Germans tribes together...
one will speak Dutch... the other the phlegm
of Flemish... the other...
Gall... and G'ah-Ul... stating: came the Romans
came Charlemagne...
elder scrolls with the Scandinavian roots...
i'll sooner pretend to be German than...
ha ha! ally myself with the ******* goat-*******
that the Russians are...

let's reimagine... an urban Pakistani
shop-owner... i'm so indistinguishable from him...
i'm almost gagging to ask him:
so... you're an anglophile?
i would ask the same question: thoroughly...
before the altar of the bereft would-be Jihadi wowing-rho-
rhinos...

perhaps a medley of lyrics in: alt schvabe might
aid my little project:
i'm content with sadness:
it allows me to reiterate...
long gone this past forever refreshed: arrived at:
rekindled:

nun erst lebe ich mir werde
       sit min sundic ouge siht...
das reine land und auch die erde

die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft...
   hey'ah hey'ah...
              so klingt uns seine kunde!

ich: halbherz...
          
             wir sind des Geyers schwarzen haufen..
hi-y'ah! ***!
und wollen mit tyrannem raufen; hi-yah: ah: **!
spieß voran, drauf und dran
               setztz auf klosterdach den roten hahn...

looking for angry young men:
perhaps also: ha-ha-ite?!

    not much fan of a Hamlet.... but please...
point me to the aisle where
Macbeth is sitting...

das reine land und auch die erde...
der man so viel der ehren giht...
mir is geschehen: worum ich stets bat...

Niemy człowiek...
niema mowa: gotów...
    
schöne länder ***** und herrlich...

perhaps the Ing-Leash don't moind...
to hell with the Ing-Leash...
they have their own...
African-bonanza to... mind...

among the Turkish prostitutes i look
English... among the English i look
H'American...
among the Germans i look:
Germany...
among my own folk i look...
i don't really care for my own genetically
****** folk...
hello Calypso...
               among the English...
come to think of it...
perhaps i spent too much time with
the Brits... with the Scots... the Welsh...
to care... what the supposed mainstream...
dictates?! aren't the Irish a separate / separatist
"plague" of people?

i just ask because... oh sure... me... local...
me local goes as far as...
ha ha ha: Cornwall! comfy retirement!
vide cor meum!
i'm here on a loan...
one can almost forget the Irish...
romancing the German tongue...
when one is pretending it to come out...
"it": post-Germanic... Saxophone-Pomeranian...
best felt choke joke among the Celts..
yo... Yuri... Gaga... the Brit?
Ing... so.. no IRA leash?
because... the Welsh... oh... right... they still
keep their tongue... no?

on these isles... one tends to...
forget... the anglo-saxon ambivalence
of: strutting it straight: yo...
this peudo-first: Berliner....
                   scoop up the Scots & call 'em
baron.

Touch the depths of my ******* soul

Fill me with the very breath of your essence

Drink me with unquenched thirst

Draw me nearer as we collide in explosive exhale



Spontaneous combustion

Like a drag of a cigarette,

take me in,

smoke me out,

consume every crevic.



Speak in different tongues,

Let my name roll off your lips in an unbirthed language

become unwound with me.

Untangled in what we both know to be authentically unmatched.




Drown in my presence

Let My arms be a safety net that diminishes every uncertainty.

fear.

doubt.

The utter, hatred, at your core.



With the beloved you are safe.

You are whole.

I will piece you back together,

Piece by broken piece  

for all of eternity.


I will wade through rivers of **** in the darkest of night.

I will be beaten by the waves of your roughest winds.

Yet,

I will stand.


I will love you through it all.



When will you see that you are my sun,

My moon

and my stars?


And I,

the universe,

That you drift in methodologically.




The formula,

the compound.

We are engrained into each other.

Twisted.

Contorted.

Bent.


I desire nothing,

but all ,


of imperfect you.