not until you have felt erotical goosebumps
running through your body with the northern wind,
a may so called it could awaken you
skeleton to prance, outside your body...
such cold of
a spring...
but such that there is any eroticism
in that sensation? in that
springtime cold?
and that there is such a "thing"?
it almost feels like the antidote
to the western concept of
st. thomas' gospel
and the nag hammadi
entries...
you want a "*** change"?
o earth, yawn and take these
poor souls to their graves,
but sacrifice their lot, not,
for the living next;
of those that ask: and what of the children
to come?
are we all really bore
people whether we grow a beard?
and don unapproachable ideas?
what's that? is that even fashionable
these days?
cougar mama! what now? what now?
dunno... grow a beard and start
deeming yourself a philosopher,
a vampire, a werewolf? huh? where who aloof?
as bad jokes go... that was a crusty pancake
of a joke, so don't mind it;
but i'm dead serious about
the cold of a may spring...
it's not about the scent of flowers
suddenly oppening and going all
berserker with an opulence of scents...
which could make anyone into
a psilocybin-induced viking warrior,
or so they say.
but it's the cold, it's the cold...
it's so ****** ****** in that it gives me
goosebumps...
geese bim bim, bim bá tá too?
alt. ba(h) ta(h) tow in two?
is this becoming a jewish joke?
am i going to deep-fry some bread to get
a bagel out, as if i was scottish and deep-fried a slice of pizza?
come on!
all i'm saying is that i find cold air ******,
my ******* get hard, and i'm thinking about
the hair on my abdoment and my eden region;
what's wrong with equating cold air
with a "mild" form of eroticism?
