Reproduction is oocyting.
With beingness what it is.
From eggs we all develop
as does every animal that lives.

500 cardinal gambles tendered
for congress milt to meet, before
fecund moons by periods ended.

From family we are decended
but from eggs we all are rendered.



*** breaking it down ***

It’s about eggs. All amminals come from eggs, humans are animals

An oocyte is the original cell that divides to form an **** - I made it “oocyting” a play on exciting - reprodiction is exciting.

500 - a female baby is born with 500 eggs (all she will ever have)
cardinal = a number  
gambles = a chance to reproduce.  
tendered = given (in a womans life)
congress = ****** *******.  
milt = *****
fecund = fertile.  
moons (monthly)
period = when the current unfertalized egg is disposed of.
taa daaa!

John Milton,
The Paris Hilton
Of 17th century English puritanical verse,
Never (as far as I know) dressed as a **** nurse.

Jeg lukker mine øjne og læner mig op ad væggen, der føles som skind mod velour. Jeg kender ingen af dem, og ingen af dem kender mig.
Ømme hæle, slidt hjerne, stort hjerte og ødelagt milt.
Hvorfor er jeg her igen?

In the silt
the milt
the making of man,
the coming of dawn
the morning begun,
the run through the trees,
the taking,
invoking the spirits to please,
smoking a peace pipe
wearing a second stripe
we're all in the war of what went before and
what's not here yet.

In ten thousand years they will dig up my bones
professors will view me and talk in hushed tones.
I'll be in the museum, some, will come down to see me,the fragrance of history etched in the memory of lines scratched by bullhorns,when the lawman kicked in the door man and that can't be right man.

And for now we will take it,we get used to the *******,we
were brought up on horseshit,in the spitting my way through the saliva today,
I walk upon tainted water, turned to ice, think i oughta use a ****** to slaughter the unborn of the daughters of the devil who sort of knows exactly where I'm at.

In the vat where the system is rising unbidden to fall and be hidden
I stir and stare at reflections.

Explosions rocked Manchester Arena
   after finale of Ariana Grande concert
where just moment before avid fans
   of this idol did cavort and flirt
shattering poignant moments,
   when one than another attendant
   did amidst helter skelter yell and blurt
   now treasured musician forever linkedin with those killed or hurt
by Salman Abedi as Isis peck fist bumped the devil,
   gloated, and rejoiced while taking stock of the carnage
   wrought by sprayed scattershot shrapnel, he stood inert
   proud to witness handiwork and grievous fallen english dads
   children, and Bobbies armed to the teeth – on high alert
for suspect hell bent on wreaking heartache
   with swaths of bloodshed staining the dirt
many severely wounded requiring immediate intervention effort
and quick reflexive protectionist instincts
   rose to the fore buckling to save a life
   more precious than spun gold or jewelry coated gilt
prioritizing human bond, and appalled and those un-necessarily kilt
to appease fiendish, ghoulish and hellish primary business
   for mortician perhaps named milt
preparing the slaughtered victims –
   some draped in a comforting home made quilt
where veritable soul asylum family, friends and strangers tilt
their head down inconsolable sadness (as tragedy hits me hart)
   affecting an impulse to wilt

vis a vis
for such inexplicable wanton zealots to puncture potential peace
and slash societal fabric, which merely articulates greater violence
   a curse to render utmost loss terminated
   indiscriminately robbing kinfolk –
   perhaps and uncle, aunt, nephew or niece
more valued assets before natural termination of chronological lease
upon another casket with the Union jack
   folded atop adorned with flowers tucked inside a cease.