Opposite spin
Smiling chagrin
Drudging eyeballs
Standing so tall
Feelin' ******
Livin' gritty
New 'ork City

I'm considered to be nerdy
Awkward, not flirty.

They call me gay,
Because I Cosplay.

I must be a dork
Because Zelda's my lord,
And she's way cooler than any sport.

Could someone love me?
That couldn't be.

I watch too much anime,
And BBC.

I praise The doctor and Spock.
Even Sherlock.
Cause in my opinion
They're better than jocks.

Being nerdy is quite fun,
But you make me sound dumb.

We're accepting and caring
But please stop staring.

Am I making this boring?
Don't start snoring..

Just give me a chance.
I'll make it last.

We could play Skyrim or league.
Wait, don't leave!

I can be cool,
Just like you!

I can calculate big numbers in my head,
Or make a fortress out of my bed

I can be an ork, elf, or spy.
Just as long as it's allowed by the die.

I can cast spells online.
Don't worry, you'll be fine!

I can role play to the extreme!!!
That's right, I call it d&d.;

I'm proud to be a geek.
Yes, we're very neet!

We know our facts!
We're anime maniacs.

I'm good at mtg!
It takes skill to be like me.

I'm cool I tell you!
I'm grand.

But at the same time,
You don't make me feel great.

I'm a loser,
A dork

No, I don't like baseball, football, or hockey
I can't bench and I don't lift.

But I go to some pretty intense parties...
On Xbox.

My heart is bigger than my head..
No, not literally.

I'd bring you a rose
And write you a poem

You'd be my Rory.
This isn't the end of the story.

I'd love you more than
video games, Star Wars, and D&D.;

In the end,
You're always my MVP.

You don't have to lie,
I know you'll decline..

but my feelings won't change.
They'll always be the same.

Maybe I'd be cool..
If I were with you.

But that'll never be
Because you fail to see OTP.

Then again,
It's all good in the end
Because..

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Manga costs less
Than dinner for two.

Dare I enter this darkness once again
listen to whispers of the dead
taste the tears that drip unknown
into hell's rage
**** this blight
this cancer of the human soul
to which I return unconsciously
unwittingly
pathetically unflinching
what evil did I inflict in a past life
that has sentenced me to this eternal nightmare
what spirit invades my thoughts
and pulls me deep
into this place of damnation,
my soul captivated by the fires of Ork
my heart blinded to the wonders of light

Carpe Diem
funny boy
did you wait
till it was too late
hurry hurry
worry worry
you took life
in big giant bites
and then had to stop
to break
only when you
defeated yourself
hurry hurry
worry worry
but even then
after breaking
you got up and overcame
your life and art were amazing and never the same
race hard then fall or stall
and then
once again
get up
and give it your all
you did it
again and again
be extraordinary
hurry hurry
worry worry
never the same
look how you overcame

Good Will Hunting
Dead Poets
Jumanji
Mork from Ork
Patch Adams
Awakenings with De Niro
Aladdin
Death to Smoochy
Insomnia
Peter Pan
Mrs Doubtfire
Good Morning Vietnam
Jakob the Liar

hurry hurry
worry worry
I have to stop
not because I am out of art
there are many more
but because my fingers
are tired of typing titles

Peter Pan
you stayed young
fought the dark
and won many triumphs
again and again
hurry hurry
worry worry
you ran an amazing race
and a pace for two lifetimes
in the end the dark caught you
but you left behind
a mark of amazing art

"gather ye rosebuds while ye may"                                     - Robert Herrick
Carpe Diem
Rest funny man

My brother's somewhere hiding,
first comes counting, then comes finding
but this child that I am minding
my last nerve he's tightly winding

Mum and Dad have gone out dining
on their date night, romance shining
while the little brat is whining
hidden in the curtain lining

So I'll get on with my writing
cause it must be more exciting
to be sat here with my rhyming
as my skills they need refining.

Now the little ork is pining
still not found, my name he's crying
eyes accusing me of lying....
Is a pinky promise binding?

BUDDHA DOES THIS, IT SOUNDS ****** AWFUL, BUT BUDDHA'S HANDS ARE TIED
HE COULD **** DADS NEXT LIFE LIKE HE KILLED DAD, IT'S AWFUL, BUT LIFE ISN'T
ALL A BUNCH OF ROSES, I DREAM ABOUT A HAPPY FAMILY LOOK, AND THEN
WOOSH SOMEONE GRABBED ME, (STEVEN BRADLEY GRABS MY LAST LIFE GREAME THORNE) I HAVE FELT GREAT SPIRITIUALLY KNOWING THIS
AT PRESENT DAD AND ROBIN WILLIAMS HAVE BEEN REINCARNATED
AND RELATED TO JIMMY BARNES, DAD WAS GIVEN A YOUNG DUDE PRESENT
FROM BUDDHA FOR HELPING ME WHO IS CRONUS, UNDERSTAND MORE ABOUT THE WORLD, I AM LIKE THIS GIRL, I LOVE LIFE AND ARE TOO NICE FOR WEIRD SCHITZOPHRENIC VOICES, THANKS DAVID CAMPBELL FOR REBIRTHING WHAT BUDDHA TOLD ME, DUDES, AS CRONUS, TO SHOW THE BEAUTY OF EACH CORNER OF THE WORLD, AND I AM DOING IT THROUGH YOUTUBE, BUT ALL YOUTUBE JUNKIES LIKE ME, CRONUS'S CURRENT EARTH BODY, IS SHOWING
THAT THE WORLD IS BEAUTIFUL, AND I DID A BUDDHA CEREMONIAL SHOW
ON SUSIE'S AND MARCO'S BREAKFAST CLUB FOR KATRINA AND TOREY FROM
THE MARTIN PLACE SIEGE
WATCH MY YOUTUBEB SITES, AAA YOUTUBE TV AND AARON CLAYTON
SHOWING, HOW TO RID NEGATIVITY THE RIGHT WAY, I AM A BUDDHIST
AND I BELIEVE IN THIS REBIRTH OF BUDDHA

YOU SEE DAD WANTED TO STAY CLOSE TO AUSTRALIA, AND BE NEAR MORK FROM ORK
THE TWINS OF DAVID AND LISA CAMPBELL FROM CHANNELL 9
I HAVE BEEN MEDDLING WITH THE SOULS, TO SAY BUDDHA DOES WHAT IS GOOD FOR
THE LAST LIFE, NOT WHAT THEY WANT, BUT HE THOUGHT, DAD NEEDED
TO BE CLOSE TO ME A BIT, CRONUS YA SEE MY MATE THE MESSIAHDAN SAN, YA KNOW LOOKS ON THE INTERNET
AT RELIEF WEB.INT, TO WISH TSUNAMI'S, AND HIS CHARACTER WAS THAT BIG POWERFUL MAN, ME, I AM MORE LIKE THIS GIRL, WHO BELIEVES TO SUFFER
POSITIVELY, CAUSE WE CAN'T FIGHT THIS JEWISH MESSIAH, AND I FEEL BETTER
AS A KID, IN POSITIVE ENERGY, BUT I KNOW I AM A MAN BY AGE, BUT I AIN'T
INTO FIGHTING MUCH, CAUSE THAT IS THE REASON I SUFFER, THE POSITIVE WAY
DAN SANDER, WAS THE MESSIAH, WHO THINKS HE CAN CREATE THIS BLOKE COULD BE THE BUDDHA, CAUSE MENTAL ILLNESS IS A VERY TERRIBLE
THING, IT CAN SHOW, THAT ANYBODY CAN COMMIT CRIMES AND IT SHOWS
WHATEVER THEY'LL DO, IS DONE IN THE AID OF LOVE FOR THE FELLOW MAN
MIND YOU, I AM CRONUS AND BLACKBEARD THE PIRATE, AND I WAS KIDNAPPED IN
MY LAST 2 HUMAN LIVES, I AM ALBERT WALDRON, BUT I AM CRONUS HELPER
OF THE YA SEE I WAS THERE AS CRONUS, TO SPREAD THE WORLD FROM DOWN UNDER

TO LEARN ABOUT DIFFERENT CULTURES, AND LEARN A BIT ABOUT WHAT ****** PEOPLE

OFF, YA KNOW WHAT ****** PEOPLE OFF, HAVING TO EXPLAIN THEMSELVES TO A RELIGIOUS CHAP LIKE ME

I DON’T **** ANYONE OFF, AND NOBODY IS ******* ME OFF, APART FROM VOICES, ******* VOICES

******* SCHITZOPHRENIA FOREVER, BUT BUDDHA IS MAKING ME REALISE THAT THERE IS MORE

TO LIFE THAN MAKING PEOPLE SAYING YOUR SPECIAL

THE WORD IS REINCARNATION REBIRTH AND ENLGHTMENT, TRUST LOVE AND MERCY

There is a light that shines-
Blue bright light-
Where Genies and magic-
Explore worlds of delight-
Hearts are Patched to the core-
Never lands to explore-
Deep from the meaning-
Good morning no war-
No doubt that the fire-
Still burns in his soul-
Poetical King just fishing for more-
Alone is the pain-that one should never bare-
Aliens to this planet-are more common than rare-
Willing is the hunt-for a calmness of game-
Laughing is the cure-Awaken ailments of pain-
Though it may never be said-
Though it may never escape-
Off to Ork we must go-
To close this chapter of fate-

RIP Cap

O captain, my captain
i stand on my desk and stomp, for you...

au reviour, you manic mind
of mirth and astounding depth...
ork has lost it's greatest son
and we a genius...

you will be missed

vale, robin
and may you find
peace on the other side

Well wishing. Fingers crossed.
Body holds still as soul stumbles upon.
Creeping inside a hollow
and empty feeling of the restless one.
Deep and heavy steps,
as feet leaps to the ground.

Ironically free yet visually stuck.
Glaring at gripped wings,
which cannot flap to go above.
Soaring and circling is all one could think of.
Caught between the bound
of metal chains suspended on a rock.

Lips once parted, now tightly shut.
Bleak were the eyes
once gleaming in lunar light
Struck by every stroke and blows of the trusted ork,
Gone were the hopes and dreams
of the misfortunate folk.

what can¿
be {un}done
when ^ i ^ can ^ trace
my loves
by the | books |
that. rest.
on _ my _ table
waves & seeds
Pablo & Angelo
russian classics
Ne₩ ¥ork
& pursuitsofhappiness
some [kind] of organized mess
@paper pages
fra. gile in their manner
hold/my/ghosts
<all those> lost whispers
have. moved. along.
[for me] words
al>ways> meant
so much =
#more

ooh... those crazed up (a fata morgana of eye shadow) eyes of that sweet-***** Elaine Thompson-Herah... alias: Calypso... i was trying to figure out my kinks... mulatto girls... oriental girls... Turkic raven-haired shamans in the bedroom... i like the Olympics... all the body sizes... in their niches... the high-jumpers... the discus throwers... the swimmers... the sprinters... but also the table-tennis players... everyone is being represented... Shiva's girlfriends... if they cook up a curry... no, they won't... i'll be in the kitchen turning it into an organic chemistry chemistry...

critical race: kink...
  you'd think that some
things would remain
in the bedroom:
topsy-turvy world...

perhaps i'll dip a finger into
this fudge...
on seconds thoughts...
perhaps i won't...

"who"? Hugh's hue...
Hugh's hues...
for any native spreschen guise
i'd like to see
the encapsulated surd of double-v
"double-u"
and how the acronym satan:
Santa ** **'s...

each saint a satan...
critical race: kink...
i tried interracial ***...
i met my match with a bony assed
ivory "princess"...
a small tight ***
i knew because the front of
my pelvis...
the "garden of eden" of *****
grew a shade of plum
from the interaction...

i cannot: not... admire the white
teeth of black people...
i tend to forget about their skin....
if you were born into a
homogeneous racial "scrutiny"
of: origins...
i feel sick going back to the old capital:
once in Warsaw
i turn into a feral creature...
so many of "me"...
where are the blacks... the Indians...
all i'm getting is a whiff of
Mongolian...

mind you... at least on the outskirts
of London... how the county
of Essex is teased...
you'll hear the dogs barking
but then you'll hear...
whatever sound the foxes
make that can't be "magically"
turned into either onomatopoeia or
typo...

all of a sudden everyone is
feeling... un-com-fort-able...
copper-skin brush of joy...
little piglet moi gets a ******* suntan...
the skin doesn't resemble
a serpent's shedding its old
girth after having ingested
a giraffe...

a cheap £125's worth of a viking road
bicycle...
it was a waste of money to have invested
in a Trek Marlin 5 worth circa £500...
it really was...
i believe you only require
only about... 7 gears to fathom
heavy traffic...
even at night... pretending to be
a pedestrian... showing the three-finger:
read-in-between-the-lines
to some: oblivious ******
in a: you going to orientate yourself
on the road like a SMART car...
or are you still pretending to be
driving a... ******* TANK?

i've passed so many oblivious people
concerning traffic it's no wonder
i think of them at best as
sleepwalkers..

white girl academic critical
race: kink...
why would i require over or coming to
21 gears?
riding a road bike... sure...
a 26" inch wheels:
but they have a 23cm width...
so i can gazelle up any elevation...
what's with this basic *******...
clashing with church bells
and the uvula...

esp. not now: when a white girl *****
a black boy: Everclear will not make
a song about: "combating stereotypes"...
a white boy ***** a black girl
that doesn't require added inches
for their sofa of an ***...
how about i shove my elbow into that hole
for better measure?

that's why i like keeping cats...
grooming a female aroused me...
for three days solid i was cycling like mad
to and fro central London
looking for an alternative brothel...
i found the long lost abode...
one hour for £120 with a limp biscuit
of a little richard: ****...
shamed...
i returned... and found my pristine
"killer" of a ballerina...
in a span of 30 minutes...
if only i could invert the hour with the 30 minutes...
when my feline "princess"
agitates me with her **** stuck up
while she's about to be teased with
a knee when being groomed...

i'm not gagging for it...
i didn't experience it more than enough
to somehow want it more than
i can do with doing it myself:
well... if i were circumcised...
but since i haven't been circumcised...
****-off strict monotheistic crowd...
under the guise of monotheism:
and my circumcision...
sure... but then the women have to make
concessions...
i'm not getting a circumcision
if she's not going to don a niqab!

pije... pali... konia wali
(he) drinks... smokes... masturbates...
well... if i were given....
a frequented depth of thirst...
but since i haven't...
i can turn 30 minutes of the best ***
into... half a decade's worth of
abstaining from it...

i toy with my beard like it might
be a violin...
there's a hmm portent at some point...
but that's for the deaf...

over the weekend taking apart an old
b.b.q. meticulously...
however many screws have been unscrewed
in my head: whatever came about
from a "chemical imbalance":
notable mention: Robert Walser...
Fernando Pessoa...

well... if only the asylums were still
open...
if only the asylums were still be open...
i'd still be practising all my best
to enter the cages...
reinvent cubism by smearing
excrement in the corners of the room:
or something like that...
but... the "squares" found out us out...
the prisons are very much alive...
asylums?
well... "they" sent the madman into
society... no wonder...
whatever's still left of society
is... two-crutches strong...
struggling toward a myth of Bethlehem...

it's so exhausting...
no one sentenced to be encased in an iron
maiden would leave it with
a necklace of the torture instrument...
even if he said the least...

day one... let's call it a Saturday...
taking apart an old b.b.q....
without a hammer...
***** by *****...

day two... let's call it a Sunday...
putting a new b.b.q. together...
***** by *****...
Hephaestus... no wonder...
i have to thank him for momentary father
status: since my own father never believed
in my tech competence...
changing a bicycle tyre and inner tube...
someone was looking over my shoulder...

forethought: premonition?
i disintegrate into something resembling
a crossword clue by clue...
Prometheus was the TITAN
Hephaestus was the god of            fire...
that titans came before the gods...
it's not like Prometheus stole the fire
from Hephaestus...
but as the gods built their marble Olympus while
the humans were left cowering naked
in mud-huts...
a sacrifice...

                flimsy narrative...
besides... by the time someone decided to steal
the electric rod of Zeus...
an Edison... he was no closer to being
credited for it...
instead: making his living from having
created the archetype of movies...
ha... "making his living":
i'm so disinterested in money
that translates as...
keeping up a family... the "genes"...

    - each and every day i wake up
"thinking": before i get onto that bicycle:
there's no point eating up the itch...
why do i have to find meaning at the end
of the day: in writing...
rather than at the beginning with the sunrise:
some "vague" prompt...
to motivate me.... ?  ?
                                ?  ?

i probably know why... just today at the recycling
centre some... puppy... late middle aged
man in a Nissan Micra... or whatever...
i just shrugged my shoulders when
i was investigated with an accusation
of missing his front lights
while i was taking an old lamp out from
the boot... petty insect: bothersome little:
cre-ah-ture...
i shrugged my shoulders because:
no damage was done but he insisted on:

OH! WHAT IF?!
it broke me when he called me a silly ****...
pumped up chest...
i was going to say: how much do you weigh?
how many teeth that are not prosthetics do you
own?
i just shouted: ******* mate...
no damage was done yet he was
adoring his entire possessions in
a ******* ******...
that moment between shrugging my shoulders
and eyeing him up...
a momentary pause: i too feed off the petty heart....

i wish it was... the first time i discovered
tom petty & the heartbreakers...
i was with someone in the driving seat who
shouted: better buy a Bentley to
have those sort of concerns...
whatever happened to: innocent until
proven guilty... whatever happened to:
wait until the damage is done
before throwing a ******* poodle cartwheel
of a hissy-fit...
no damage... but being called a silly-****...

petty people bother me... more than mountains...
or the seas...
the heart turns into a placebo of:
what it must feel like jumping out
of an aeroplane armed with a parachute...
i wish i said: bark little doggy... bark...
next time you bark... i'll bite...
but i'm ******* slow... i'm always either
elsewhere: trapped in some variation
of dasein: some horizon of: there's... existence
elsewhere... always...
now mash this up with an elevation of
the cartesian res cogitans: i.e. buddha walking
as i like to call it: res vanus: the empty thing...

that moment of frozen mirrors when
i eyed up foul mouthed poodle...
sitting in his car... neither scratched nor
attended to...
he would do x, y, & z... i shrugged my shoulders:
did anything happen?
oh god... such motivation to find a chunk of
beef large enough to practice boxing on...

i'm thinking about Brazilian mulattos...
Jamaican Calypsos...
all the hoard of Asia brought to the altar
by the Mongolian horde...
and here i am...
abstinent... gladly...
please don't cage me... a moment more with
the Turkish raven haired shamans of
the bedroom...

- it's not even funny...
i'll spend near £500 on a Trek Marlin mountain-bike...
it's only 3 months+ old...
it started to cringe at me... squeak...
make odd-noises...
but that Viking road-bicycle: kol

anything... almost anything with a label:
MADE IN XINA... made by the number...
worth duck-squat...
i still own things manufactured in...
for ****'s sake: Sri Lankan rubber...
Pakistani / Bangladeshi linen...
almost always the better quality than
those fake Beijing silk woorms...

by why of bypassing editorial scrutiny...
aren't the public the better judge of...
what, exactly... is... being... printed?
not much... go go green!
so... me... waiting... one rejection letter
after another... not reaching the immediacy
of an audience... just so... i can establish
and authority of "publishing"?
the gate-keepers?
the... ahem... "selected tastes"?
i have a long attention span...
but i have a very short sense of humour...
for that matter... my father thinks it funny
pushing my span of keeping... my anger at bay...

i'll immediately post: and free! free whittle birdie!
what use do i have with orthodox publishing
credentials?!
when all, i, wanted... was to bypass
the orthodox publishing credentials...
**** the medals: it's all about taking part!
democracy or no democracy?!
should we ask Iraq... Libya... Afghanistan?!
itch... itch... i'm itching...
which implies: the itch existent and the process
of alleviating the itch: by scratching the itch:
i'm itching...

the sort of song you rarely hear on the radio:
black... wonderful life...
i'm too not skipping along to the rhyme
of flipping burgers... or burdens of the easily
available.... scooter frenzy of arrived
at New Delhi traffic:
seems i had to merely introspect
to find a snippet of the Giza pyramids...

- to hell with magic...
there's mythology, there's air all around us...
and like this one poet
mentioned ( )
water water everywhere...
but not a drop to drink...

the Pollacks: the Paul lean brigadiers have...
gladly left these isles...
forget these isles: fellow ethnic scrutiny...
let the English housewives make
better jokes when the ****** plumbers have
left and the tap is left running...
jazzy pop interludes with 1980s/ 1990s...
whatever you had in mind...
thank you... i'll leave it to the closure...
my fellow-countrymen have left...
to concentrate on their own "hood"...
your's? slightly undermined...
but blame me...

oh they're not interludes...
it's fine by anyone's standards if a white
girl welcomes her ******* baptism...
but a shy thought of a romance with Calypso...
or the hearth of Asia by a what-why-not-a-white-"bloke"....
******* clowns and jazz-hand clapping!

i once attempted a take on ENSO...
no chance... not now... not ever...
but the white girls pursue their...
****** liberation freedom:
look at me...
come in between... a decade's worth of
abstinence... halved...
then again encountered...
sell me all that's the Brazilian
of the mulatto bonanza...
i'll buy it...

30 minutes with a Turkish "killer": in her own
words... and i'm freed from
the extravagance of a responsibility...
to tow woman... and at least 2 children
in tow.... towing a woman
and at least two children...
no... thank... you... it's not enough
to merely breed for a product of 2 produce 1...
2 at least better produce 2...

i don't want to breed in this environment...
who would?!
idiot... saint... a *******
psalm singer... a reciter of the qu'ran?
it must still be a success story
among Muslims... to leech onto the
conquest ambitions fo the Turks
penetrating Europe:
although the Arabs probably think the Turks
as lesser "Muslims"...
but who is to forget the... bridegroom
of a reflex...
how the Christian Serbs....
how the Christian Serbs...
made the remains of the Ottoman Empire...
little or no nought of ash, skull...  bone...
we... "we"... Caucasus brigade...
sure... very Anglo-Saxon: WASP sensibly in Nyod: Ork...
just because the Jews can have their
Holocaust... doesn't mean that..
what's sleeping can't be suddenly woken...
n'est c'est pas?
it takes something trivial...

because the sacrificial body of lamb of Muslims
didn't take place... in "Europe"...
the Ottomans: whoever they were...
yes... they "were"... already happened...
it's such a tease... here's my slingshot
of history... the Bataclan theatre massacre...
sure... just give it enough time...
enough soy...
i'm clinging to the memory of Robespierre...
the guillotine too...
i'm gearing up...

who is? not me... some mythological collective: oui!
je! moi aussi!
nice living together: isn't it... esp. in
the clique of keeping up with
updates of Rotherham...
alias for... ha ha!
speaker's corner...
why are the Hing-Leash...
sowwy so so: sur-PRIOR-EASE!
***: onto the surf ye' go forth!

years later... whatever ****** revolution happened:
the girls entered a harem...
the boys were left talking solo
with "premonitions" of:
glad to be awake:
would be... abortions....
vamped up *** revolutionised:
for the women...
if the men were not subjected to world war I
trench warfare... they would
most certainly be crippled my
chemistry infused...
limp biscuit **** while the harem of all sorts...
she... pleads a pretty please back
to... who?
via beer it's he **** of gods...
via whiskey it's ms. amber...
same ****: different cover...

ghosts of the same poker fold... facing...
each other: worth of the same
evil: intent...

the liberated woman:
the liberated man...
seems i "forgot" to pass on the intrinsic
demands of the stereotypical man:
archetypical hunting... gathering...
sorry... you were saying, "saying" something...
no... must have missed me...
i probably "forgot"...

fair enough with the girl playing
her interracial anti-racism white anti-...
o.k.: whatever...
it's a proper antithesis surge of her
already met expectations when
i figure out a Calypso for my hard-on...

she's becoming boring...
truly: literally: *******... boring...
like her adventure was only surrounding
her juiced up opening of an oyster's worth
of ****!
*** is already boring:
i can have it on a relapse...
once every half a decade...
however much she tries to sell it...
the wind sells itself better...
silence also...
eh... she moans: she might moan:
the magpies cackle with
more authenticity...
the crows croak with more "girth"...

she can sort herself out...
after all...
she's the freely available...
variation of: what it might feel like...
living in Buenos Aires...
all the freedoms she requires...
i'll sooner come toward
a foetus within the confines
of a tornado: genesis a tadpole...
than i will ever make do with:

dough: dumb downer... make: do...
ugh! ugh! WOO-MAN! WOE-MAN...
whatever...
i don't mind the crisp: cut... dying out...
this cul de sac...
why would i?

i sort of... stop myself... forgetting myself...
whenever i cycle down oxford st.
and some Japanese gearing up:
****-pants flashes me for kicks...
you lost me at the brothel...
i lost myself at the brothel...
with the Turkish and Romanian girls...
sorry... what?

the night is always in its infancy
while the day: ages: oh most... terribly...
the day ages with responsibilities...
while the night runs: RAM-PANT...
such is the privy acquired by those awake
in the: NACHT...
everyone else is asleep...
by "tomorrow's": today's a quarter
to... 8... i'll be fresh as a daisy...

although the miracle of tourism
of sightseeing central London via cycling
will not be undertaken...
there will be as much of as little
as there is of this: to nibble on...
for anyone: eager...

a pursuit of the roundabout current...
yes yes... many thanks... ado...
no... thank you...
me chasing "shadow" while also gearing
up to the momentum leftovers
of either a bus or a truck...
how, did... so... many...
"cyclists"... get... towed... dragged...
under... these... trucks... busses...
oblivious traffic hierarchy status: "superiority"
complex?
minced meat... i like to think of those deaths
as... minced meat...
they had to be: St. Pancreas: minced: "dodgers"...

best dead... retardo: fernando: minced meat
"dodgers"...
oh guy's gotta looks ups!
(in that ****** aghast voice-over)
i get a hard-on every time
i entertain a roundabout
where i'm quicker off the mark
than some tirade of traffic...
always aiming for the momentum
associated with a truck
or a bus... or a south african scrum...

eh... little women: know very little.

you tip,...toed,... in
a _ gain
your perfume
just |an |empty
bottle
{i'vekept}
like. words.
so/ man/y syl/la/bles
spent #promises
{wecouldn'tkeep}
so | full |
of the = memories
even. now.
i'd >still >go >there
{withyou}
the °smell °°of °you
sends Me
to Ne₩ ¥ork in Jul¥
& the ¡taste ¡of ¡you
in. my.
hands.

I keep the 59fifty with me,
crown fit with the flipped brim.
Grin situated like a grizzly's.
I'll put a ***** down quickly.
Clip him in the kidney like a fifth
then watch his miss switch teams.
Appease her til her knees hurt.
Sign a jersey, ergo the curb.
My door reads do not disturb.
Delete me if you feel the urge.
Make no mistake, I will not search.
This is scorched-earth antics at its worst,
no stone will be left unturned.
Smarter than your average oaf,
my art works like an Ork on coke.
Just because you lack a clue doesn't
mean the world must follow suit.
There's a thumb in your mouth, and you
wonder why the words won't come out.

This is what I do
even when she
can't remember me

even when we
can't remember she

Like Mork
From Ork

Living in reverse time
Back into a child's rhyme

I will be there
And u will be fair

A meal at the last

14 hours ago
♫Astrud Gilberto
Água de Beber

.             yeah...
and sharekhan with
a sinbad
are alive...
             i almost tried
dying while writing this...
with the leftovers of
bon jovi
via          the...
blatant gore of glory...
  but you know...
can't exactly learn
to ride a horse...
while at the same time
learning
to buckle-up
an... automobile...
****'s brickers on 'n
'op...
                wankers sarge...
and wankers they
'ure 'r' to 'emain!
  the 'est part of me
met the choir requirements...
the rest of me
settled fown in Vermont...
i leave the remaining
part of me
to...
          curiosity
phlegm...
and...
      tabloid...
   your knitty-gnat-part-time-son...
surname whicker scone...
******: if you're gonna
borrow:
you borrow with a face
of will and a demand
for...
     the last daft serf
bonanza i will ever
encourage myself with...
the time i will
take to safeguard
building Atlanta,
Georgia...
and you better steal
my best good-gold ******
fold
on betting...
that this ******* pile
of brick will not last into
the mid 20th century...
   betting man man...
thank god we never made
it to the Mississippi..
  ******* mud-dog
hauser!
clingy events of
the clangs of 'ew 'ork...
              bet counter via..
a ******* paddy...
  twice assured a joker
card...
thrice up on t
he king of spades...
i too bet on Boston 'ot 'urning
'een!
                      the base
of experiencing
the blaze...
            i wannah...
but at the same time...
i always want to forget
reliving the experience
of Versailles...
like, world war I and II
were...
the worst that could befall
a man...
   me?
i remember pretending to
chase,
hide & seek...
visiting Ypres...
in the trenches...
(where)
any of us were given a chance
to ****-about
chasing out our sorry-***
souls in the confines of
Versailles?
    not that i know of...

back in the east London
brothels...
you know...
it... really wasn't much...
you don't have to heave
the exhausting
jealousy
segment
of engaging in...
a "life worth living"...

little england:
big america...
       chances of me living
in that grand continet
of praise?
  nill...
     and of it,
knowing where i write
from?
equal "concern"...
           big continent
from where i'm from...
and... little country from
where i'm not to be.

i will never 'e
one over the other h'american,
as i will 'ever 'e
'un one european
to another;
so we 'ave that covered?
good!
      let's give ourselves
enough ground to
reiterate!

please, spare the children...
let us reiterate
the reindroduction
of the jew
among the arabs!
we just had ourselves
a divorce...
the children ought to know!

like any ancient "text":
abbreviations not handy...
i.e.
   (except that
sort, kind, genus):
if not on loan then...
                "handy"...
   lying about like ruins
of the stipend of
architectural t'inking...
***** gonna
groove speed'oh
or am i to chequer
those goggles
via a... "google"?
   now i know oogling:
but 'now no ogle...
the omega franchiße...
your plot of:
"sorting this of
******* out":
strobe?
sure: epileptic la la
angeles...
         like any ancient
"text":
shame, real shame...
given that i:
am using the, same,
*******,
phonetic, encoding,
as: what cannot
replicate the screams
of Pompeii!
****!
like: "back" to the future
with "no" past...

what's the difference
between
latinaporcus (pig latin:
pospolite:
jeno-glite...
            wzajem: tzn.
t. wszystko: razem)
   and latinarubico?

scholasticism
doesn't exist on the street
even if the street is
an internet page...
schooled
in: rev. up the
mo-ped Essex boy:
orange man
is, as bad if
you only knew what
orange was
without a prior
to lecture about
Louis XIV,
Vill schksch'tzzz
von H'orange...
and... a tanning
salon in Romford...

can't we...
somehow... like...
make surds
more indicative
in this language?

like:

     'nome: for gnome...
  'nosis: for gnosis...
       wet *****
of a tongue whenever
Rhu'ha'n'ah's tongue
disturbia comes on:
Bahamas' variety
of bongo bongo...

            surds!

             'now... ah!
ha!
        lookie lookie:
Luke the Lucky fluke...
'now...
  that's a tricky surd...
that "missing" K...

can't blame herrinspektor clueso
or the
    the kkk took my baby away
band either...

now could never
become 'know...
look... a: UFO... that, yes:        '
  indicator of a letter
being: "missing"...

           nau-   wooo wooo wooo
casper caught a keeper...

              and the greek?
tau...
ergo?

                  to 'now (snort)
and no awe with
an: exfoliating ah...
                      akin to "now"...

but to 'ork is no slice
of pork in what
was once Cockney...
that became 'ackney (H)...

that came:
  a while away from
the worth of a
   white 'night's
   strut into...
               scalps sold
hanging off camel humps
like chandeliers:
and yes:
the rotating bonanza
like, some...
    
      yes... yes... carousel...
disco rubic cube jargons
of esoteric epileptic
      dance-offs
   bragging
   **** contra *****
satiating sizes
versus the dervishes
       of Istambul...

kwald ah numb'd
toon'g ah too'r n'ah dough...

called a numbed
             tongue a tornado!

yes, yes: said the psychiatrist:
i too thought that
oysters could compete
in the olympic tradition
of performing the belly to
a fosbury's flop
worth of:
            ...and that street
cat... "just"... curdled "itself"
into my welcoming
arms...
i became an armchair...
and it became
a Siberian shawl...
very much a Moscovian
day-to-day photo-opportunity...

ancient texts:
modern bogus...
ancient latin "sort of"
deviates from excruciating
the reader with
any pronoun usage...
conjunctions are
used sparingly...
namely the logic of
mirror tautology,
or: mirror ad infinituum...

forget about
prepositions as such...
whatever grammar was, was,
current grammar?
too volatile...
eat a parsnip:
**** out a whiff of
absinthe
   in the variety of
having ingested:
fennel root...
   savvy?

now NOT 'now!
now NOT 'now!
now NOT 'now!

   no one's going to shout
that sort of pedantic
observation, any time, soon...

           ooh... hollowed out
omicron... not an elongated
omicron in the form
of an omega...

    ooh...
write me the phonetic
transcript... pretty please!

nau 'not no'!....

   ooh! pretty pretty!

Robin Williams
Cremated in San Anselmo
Ashes to the San Francisco Bay
My my hey hey

Episcopal
Catholic Light
Chicago
Mr. Keating. Long May ....

Only free in dreams
Thank you, Sean
Journey on.
Callooh! Callay!

Alakazam
Mork from Ork
Teacher to Todd
Live to teach another day

            Yea verily. Yea.

Peace comes dropping slow
Doesn't last for long
E I E I O
In the Dylan song

Gratitude for ordinary
I can because I must
When my father dies
What will become of us?

Tired. Exoplanets.
He is still in school
Cordelia is quite noble
Harold Bloom a fool

3 prayers for Chicago
Poems to New York
Vegetarian fajitas
Vegetarian. No pork.

        Mork from Ork...