Six Straight

The old cowboys of  TV fame,
Were straight shooters,
Who carried six shooters,
Sometimes two.

When I grow up,
I want be a  six straight cowboy too,
Six straight hours of sleep,
Or dem bad poems all dressed in black,
they're a gonna shoot me, holy dead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The youniverse is getting smaller

The you-in-verse is getting smaller,
My poems, shorter,
Hemingwayesque, see!
Why use two words,
Whenonewilldo.

Warmer, too,
Somehow tho global heat
Ain't reached my woman's
Hands or feet.

When you touch my GPS,
It stands ready, at attention,
Always opens up with a prayer,
Directions to Home,
Like I said,
The you-in-verse is getting smaller.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lend Me a Tune**

Wish I knew how to
Compose some love lyrics,
But can't carry a tune,
It seems that the music
Must always comes first.

So with conceit and disbelief,
Wrote words and shot 'em into space,
Hoping they'd pass thru galaxies,
Maybe a comet tail,
Find a Songster who will strum them
Into perfect, into complete.

I ain't unhappy that all I got
Was the lesser gift of
Humming words to myself,
Ain't dissatisfied, but wish they
Could be ratified, by the music
Of a voice reading them to me
Or fingers tapping, happening them
Upon the ivories upon my chest,
The chest that needs exploration.

So let's make some music
Finish these lyrics jointly,
When all finito, pointedly
Take our co-sing-song,
Dance to it with our bodies
Sing words the whole night long,
And please baby,
Don't tell me to shut up so you can sleep....

Uhh..,Young Ston, OFTR..
They say I'm crazy, They say I'm lazy,..they call me crazy, they call me lazy,..Ayee,Yeah..They say I'm crazy, Yeah they say I'm lazy, Uhh, they say I'm crazy..I'm amazing, They say I'm lazy, I'm amazing, They say I'm crazy, They call me lazy, They say I'm....
Crazy..(I'm amazing7)
They say I'm crazy..they call me lazy, They call me crazy..They say I'm lazy..They say I'm crazy, ***** I might  be..Uhh..Yeah..I'm (amazing2)..
(so amazing2)..amazing

Uhh, No Kanye West **** tho dawg, Good Morning tho, Yeah the birds is chirping so loud in the Atown, but I ain't worrying or stunning them hos, no,no..,Ayo, I'm wit my big brothers we mobbing, & we rising up to the top without selling our souls, **** all of that Occult ****, forget about being a Freemason, I'm keeping it hundred, & they only keep it 33 percent, them ******* so scared to even ever show they faces true colors & rep they gang man while they out in public,.. Not me Imma stunt Yeah,..Imma stunt for OFTR *****,..Imma scream my gang so loud to the top of my lungs, Yeah ***** Imma shout..While I'm smoking on some crazy amazing bud mane, I'm  spitting facts from my spirit & soul man, ayo them ******* *** rappers ain't who they say that is noo, not (really2)..homie, they only betraying us mane, Yeah they so fake man, they so gay Yeah freaking faggets, stay the **** outta my face & stay the **** away from me homie, before yo body be filled with maggots..

Aye, I builded my own corporation by just having hope man & praying Yeah..I'm motivating all of my young ****** to stop, following after these **** ******, they ain't keeping it true they rapping lies, & that's not the code. Ayo even the president & his whole committee stay lying to us too, we as the people need to do something together soon, so lets overthrow these false prophets & fake leaders as soon as possible dawg, Uhh..
**** the government, **** America, man I'm going in,.. noo OFTR we won't stop, Noo we can't stop,man.. We can't be stopped either my nig..Uhh, **** Society, **** the police, **** everybody that's hating, **** all the fakes too homie, Aye man **** a friend, **** having a ol lady too homie noo I don't need all of those distractions around me Aye..
Imma always stay true to myself mane..Yeah ***** (Yeah2)..Uhh I got my family, &  I will  ride on any ***** ***** who ever disrespect one them & shoot some **** up,Yeah , that's what my Daddy taught me my *****...Uhh,Yeah..I'm riding to the end for OFTR man, OFTR we all stars..we so amazing,..Yeah we (so amazing3)..

Aye man yeah these ****** stay hating, they hate me..Why because I'm amazing, so amazing.. Aye man, yo ***** wanna come over to my place get faded & get ******..Uhh Imma beat her up..I Chris Brown dat **, call her a Uber then send her *** home packing,.. ain't no sleep overs wit me *****  Noo , you should already know that OFTR noo we don't love these **'s, noo we don't trust em too..Uhh
I be too busy to be sexting & picking up my phone but ***** **** I do give out the best quickies tho **,Yeah..I'm on my grind for the whole day, Noo I can't sleep, Yeah I'm doing whatever I gotta do to feed my family & developing my business into a multi billion dollar industry, but I ain't bending over or ******* ****, forget that sweet Starship type ****.., Yeah **** all of dat , OFTR we got our own agenda man, keeping it real & funky, everyday, Yeah Uhh..I'm getting so stronger everyday..I'm smoking on that strong Hulk smash ****, please don't interfere wit me or else you will be MIA, Aye mane..,I'm so amazing..Uhh.
I'm on my sonic Flow, I'm going so fast, I'm rolling some more grass while I drive man, I been drinking too ****, my ***** I might even crash,..Yeah I'm crazy but you can't call me lazy mufucker, you just looking in from the outside man, who the ******* think you is..Uhh


Only my Heavenly Father can judge me mane,
(Nobody else , Noo2)..*****, Yeah Young Ston a King , Yeah..Uhh Young Ston a g, Yeah Uhh.., Young Ston the man **,..I keep going in, & I ain't pulling out, let's go..Uhh..Yeah
They say I'm crazy, they call me lazy, but they don't know that there is a weapon that's been inside of me, bout to get me so paid *****..so paid Yeah..Yeah..(I'm about to get paid man2)..(I'm about to get paid Yeah3)..
/Yeah..(so paid2)/3..I ain't being (no slave2)..man..Uhh

They say I'm crazy,...
They say I'm lazy, they call me crazy, they call me lazy, they say I'm lazy,..They call me crazy..Uhh..***** I'm amazing, Yeah..(I'm amazing2)..Yeah ***** (I'm amazing3)..Yeah ***** (I'm amazing3)..I'm so amazing, Yeah..

I'm amazing everybody when they doubted on me my *****, They  said I couldn't do nothing but just be a problem, well **** they was right about one thing, Yeah I didn't have a job for a long time  mane..young *****, I usta just sit around the house dream about my future & write hits all day long mane,..Aye but I always had a plan to go out to get what is mines homie..Aye this world so **** evil they gott a ***** like me set up for failure already but I will achieve, & smoke a J wit Farrakhan to discuss being invole  in the Future Revolution for my people..Aye Yeah man..

These demons won't block my vision, man they underneath me Yeah dawg, Yeah I like to roll up Yeah I like to drink alot my ***** , so what, I live my life so you should live yours..Uhh my ***** live it up..Uhh,Yeah Young Ston these busters said I would never ever make it too the big leagues but now they all following after my foot steps  mane.. dawg these succers all around me, & stay tweeting me asking for a **** handout bru, hell naw get the **** up outta my zone, Im not ever associating myself or ever  doing business with ***** *** fakes,..Yeah..Aye.. ***** ***** stay on yo route, don't hop in my lane dude..

You lames copying after each other in Atl mane & I'm doing my music my own way ****, I was the greatest already without nobody even knowing about me, Imma living legend, I prosper forever Yeah, Uhh..Young Ston I'm amazing , so amazing, Yeah ***** I'm amazing, so amazing.. So amazing, so what they can call me crazy dawg, I'm so far away from the haters mane, I'm so elevated, Yeah they can call me crazy all they want ,but no they can't call me lazy, because *****..I know what I am..

I'm amazing Yeah Cuhz.. (I'm amazing3)...Yeah (I'm amazing3)..(Yeah I'm amazing3)..I'm (so amazing2)....
Ayee..Yeah they  say I'm lazy, They call me crazy, They call me lazy, they say I'm crazy,..
/*****.., Yeah (I'm amazing2)../4
Haaaa,(so amazing3)..I'm (so amazing3)..
***** I'm amazing, Yeah ***** I'm crazy,but I ain't even 5 steps close to being lazy..Uhh I'm amazing.. (So amazing4)..Young Ston

no matter when I go to sleep

no matter when I go to sleep,
my next door neighbors
wake me up,
arguing.

History and the Future,
the oddest couple,
always in opposition,
in a world of mutual armament.  

these unilateral siamese twins,
every dialectic ends the same:

one says I'll **** you,
then, they both start laughing.

(Eléa's #1 fav)

9/15/17 4:35am

<•>

mark me as safe

though the namelessly hurricane is never ending,
the roof, a sacrifice in the wind's temple,
letting millions of naked eyes be persecution witnesses,
marking me as safe, but not saved,
surviving, the destruction, a beautiful curse,
this violent universe.

9/15/17
4:30am
(gifted to Joel & Kelly Rose))

<•>

address me with no assumptions

for we will provide the facts,
with liberty and justice,
we will fill in the redacted parts
in the bill of particulars,
of the indictments signed namelessly,
only as the
The State's Attorney,
woo hoo,
We Who Always Win,
Cause We Make the Rules

9/8/17 9:31am

<•>

21801BB705 VDAB7

given this, the key,
the rulers announced thanks,
but not in anyway a necessite,
we will just smash the locks
and burn your personal history down,
until now it has JUST been whiteout corrected,
you're welcome!

9/14/17
6:37am
(gifted to Evan Crow)

<•>

don't major in the minors

don't major in the minors,
classicism is a double entendre,
you don't understand,
but you will,
when you study headless statues
in a museum
come back to life,
do not act surprised.

progress is not an iPhone,
it's taking a long bathroom break
in the mind.

(Graces's fav)

9/10/17. 5:37am

<•>

All the old battles are new again

All the old battles are new again.
every old poem is but a pretense, a new work refreshed.
cutting edges dull knives, easily resharpened by new use,
fresh excuses.
stale words that stick humans, come to life,
as any and all of your favo-rite
army of **(fill in the blank)
  _ism's,
marching in the name of good riddance
of the  disloyal opposition.

nothing new under the sun,
history books predict the future.

(Eléa's #2 fav)

9/15/17 3:55am

1
There was fire within and between us.
We touched ourselves
And got burned painfully, blissfully.

We stopped.
We took a bath.
Removed the ashes,
and got ready for another.

2
Hush, says the gentle moon
silhouetting the smooth mountains
that we create and recreate.

Hush, says the soft wind
caressing, flowing with our hands,
spreading fire through the forest.

Hush, say our awakened lips
locking the flame that longs
to stay long, touched and untouched.

I will never get married because marriages don't last.
Being a product of divorce blows big chunks all the time.
You tell your parents how you feel and they say
"we will discuss it dear" but they never do it.
My mom was always on her cell phone talking her
tmi friend who tells all  and how she and strangers
she meets placing personals have fun in her boudoir.
Don't reach for a thesaurus means her bedroom.
It's gross trying to get ready for classes and hearing
your mom talk about *** and big **** plastic surgery
she wants to get to keep her girly figure right and tight.
I got body image issues due to her can't stop looking
for flaws and wrinkles ******* mental complexes.
Need therapy much dumb and vain mother?
Could be why dad found a younger version of you
in evil ***** clone he lives with who loves his fat wallet.
No way can that someone with a hot *** want his
gray hair with more than one bald spot and flabby abs.
He works out but he's got a *** that quit even when
he spends hours exercising at the gym and dancing
trying to be my age saying old **** getting jiggy with it.
I think **** me now when he says that and I hate my life.
I feel messed up in the head because my parents hate
who they are and I hate myself most days because that's
what I learned from them. Should I go out and have
*** with as many men as mom and her friends? Should
I meet guys off the internet like mom now does? Should I
meet a man who will take care of me like the woman
dad is with who loves his fat wallet and great job
and be the kind of woman my dad likes? Would dad
be proud if I wanted surgery to get huge ***** like vain mom?
Would mom care if I had *** with a guy in the back of
his pick up like she bragged to her friend about? Would
my teachers care if I sat in the back and cheated like the
girl who gets answers from tests in exchange for quickies
in cars during lunch. She is tardy for the party and class
a lot. Teachers don't notice what's happening in schools
and they don't freaking care if I study my *** off
to get the same grades and I don't sleep with all the jocks.
Maybe I should because I'm messed up in the head at 18 and
nobody cares about me but me and that's a short list.
Have friends but they have some of the same body
issues and mental ones like me. I'm messed up in the
head because I get accused of having *** and I'm still
a ****** but thinking about giving up the goods to
the one I met through personals. He wanted to cmid and
I proved I'm legal. On the fence about giving away my
virginity. Too ****** bad my mother and dad are
busy and have mental issues and have no time for the
girl they dressed up when she was a tyke but forgot about
when she needed a training bra.

What if this was just any other love poem?
Addicted to fame and fortune many "make it big,"
Another love song just like any other, stands alone
As yet another love poem, a be mine, baby baby jig.
Let's give them something new, something with life,
Not stuck in the past, some bar tab to remember me by.
Listless, sitting over the rail, looking for that one day
To come where there is an art or music director guy,
One who remembers your name, so that everyone in
Town speaks about what it would be like to share your fast times,
But it's not real, selling "8 track tapes full of trucker music," while
Ordinary poets and musicians like me are alone on Valentines...

My summer lover
The shapes we uncovered
After glasses of wine
Clutching my spine
With sweaty palms
A voice that calms
You laid me down
And let me drown
In a pool of lust
Quaking with each ******

The bites
From steamy nights
The pink hickies
From afternoon quickies
Oh, but the early morning kissing
Is what I’m still missing

advertising has changed so much
in capitalism,
it's a form of existentialism,
while the french philosophers
abstracted in coffee shops
english existentialism took to
constantly advertising people,
they're not cheese grins and tampons
and toilet product quickies...
they're literally full time adverts,
they do that thing called blogging in video...
it's a strange existentialism,
it's a plagiarism of c.c.t.v.,
the new medium of advertising requires
constant consumer surveillance with those clowns
getting gifts from companies, talking about
getting them and pushing them on...
advertisement literally became a movie picture
akin to Hollywood... the internet age
gave us advertisement actors who
advertise with so much existential angst they
have to encompass each and every day
as wroth advertising - and confuse people
with mundane issues akin to dentistry
and take-away menus that they're not doing...
what they're actually doing;
a friend in need is a friend indeed,
a friend with **** is better,
a friend with ******* and all the rest
a friend who's dressed in leather...
(placebo's pure morning).

The love I once had you took it away;
I invested most of my time into you;
Now you're gone, onto a next guy;
Using me for quickies;
Telling me lies about how you love me;
If you loved me, why?
Why will always be the question;
Forever there will be thoughts;
Thoughts of us in the back of my head;

HI DUDES

I JUST UPLOADED THIS WEEKS VERSION OF MY CHART SHOW, WHERE MY MOTTO IS

PLAY THE OLD MUSIC, COUNTDOWN THE NEW, AND I UPLOADED TWO SONGS FROM

ANGRY ANDERSON FROM YESTERDAYS CONVOY FESTIVAL AT GUNGAHLIN

PRETTY RAD ISN’T IT, I USE MY CHARACTER, BERNETTE PETERS, WHO IS MY LITTLE GIRL IN ME

THE ORANGE HAIR WANNA BE, THIS ISN’T STRANGE BEHAVIOUR, THIS IS COOL BEHAVIOUR

PERFORMING ON YOUTUBE, AND THANKS FOR GIVING ME A FEW VIEWS, I LOOK AT ESTIMATED TIME WATCHED

AND I THANK YOU THERE TOO, DON’T STOP BEING ENTERTAINED BY ME, I WILL BE A YOUTUBER TILL THE END

WHICH I HOPE ISN’T FOR A LONG TIME

WELL DONE TO THE NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS, BEATING SEATTLE, 4TH WIN THIS CENTURY

I AM BOPPING BERNETTE PETERSON, AND I SHAKE MY HEAD TO TOE, I SHAKE ALL OVER TILL I ROCK ‘EM ALL OVER YEAH

I PARTY RIGHT, YEAH, I PARTY RIGHT

YEAH, IF YA LIKE ANGRY ANDERSON, CHECK OUT MY VIDS OF ROCK AND ROLL OUTLAW AND WE CAN’T BE BEATEN

I WILL UPLOAD MORE IN THE FUTURE, ESPECIALLY THE PARADE

SORRY FOR MY ONES THAT DIDN’T MAKE IT, MY COMPUTER ONLY ALLOWS A FEW QUICKIES A DAY, OK

AAA YOUTUBE TV, IS WHERE THE NEW UPLOADS ARE OK

THANKS TO TWITTER FOR FAVOURITING MY WE CAN’T BE BEATEN UPLOAD, OK DUDES

i remember these two particular catchphrases uttered from english lips in the early 90s: the burqa? satan's postbox; and the other? jesus is coming: look busy.

i have to admit it, jazz sounds so much better,
and i'm sure if i was writing this in
the 20th century, jazz would have abhorred me,
but more so the beatnik poetry-jazz fission,
like some godfather of rap of something -
still jazz sounds better, and even though i was
partially raised on classical music,
point being, when *batman forever came out,
i didn't buy the soundtrack with U2 on it,
but instead the elliot goldenthal score -
notably for the song fledermausmarschmusik -
times were tough, we still used to play
with action figures and were the puppet-masters
in those days, rather than monochromatic
in smartphone wizardry...
                and i remember this one woman working
in our price asking me whether i was
sure i wanted the classical score of the movie,
rather than the soundtrack: and i said -
well, d'uh!
   but i can't contest for loving classical music
more than jazz, esp. not during these "detox"
weeks... jazz is just that: a cough medicine,
a paracetamol, something akin to beating
egg yokes with some sugar, until a pale canary
foam forms, and then you place it on top
of a black coffee, with some whiskey to boot...
i'll say this, these "detox" weeks are best
done during the autumnal / winter months -
just enough sunshine to make a 32+ hour days
bearable...
           what time is it? almost 3pm?
that's me crossing the 24h threshold of being
constantly awake...
            by the time i hit the whiskey this evening
i'll be heading into the 32nd hour of being
awake, straight...
            but i love these prolonged days,
the sort of days that merge into nights that then
somehow merge into the high octane morning
hours, notably looking at schoolkids pass my
house in school uniform...
         you should have seen this kid (who i was)
and his first time in regent st.'s hamleys...
  it was like a scene from big -
  once he spotted those batman action figures
his cheeks turned into bright luminescent
beetroots...
                   prior to that it was the joy of
playing outdoors, throwing marbles
into a dug hole from the distance of 2 metres,
and there was also the bet: 4 marbles a game,
5 marbles go into the hole and the winner
takes it all...
         and what about plasticine in the game
of kapsle, placed into bottle-caps,
and flicked around in a maze drawn on
       the pavement with chalk?
girls? hopscotch...
                                but we used to gang
up as if the utopian version of the lord of the flies
and head into the woods, and bake us
some tatties in charcoal of a fire...
            we used to look out after each other...
obviously some of the kids from my childhood,
last time i heard: became violent criminals...
but that's beside the point,
  when we were young, it mattered that we
had a group ethos: no one is going to be left
behind... stealing gooseberries -
  that would make these overly sweet sour-sweets
taste like honey drizzle over oats...
but that's the great thing about these "detox"
weeks, i get to experience 32h days,
   half a day, the entire night, and the entirety
of the next day, and about a third of the next night...
even if you asked me how i managed
to stay awake for so long and fail to even
powernap for a quickie 15 minutes,
       i'd probably sooner inquire:
so, what's the secret for those quickies you wild
kids have in the domain of ***...
last time i checked, she just perfected
her ******* before we were breaking up -
she tightened her lips...
        ah, i know the youtube hysteria of:
telling personal things to strangers -
    i get the argument -
  but unlike the medium of youtube - writing
still has the aura of:
as one stranger unto another -
          there's no greater sense of privacy,
as the privacy without a muzzle-guard of a dog...
it can be rather intimidating, to find that
however personal your content is,
   it actually entrenches your privacy,
paradoxically...
                    don't ask me how this happens...
i guess that: if your "privacy" is merely
an intricate web of lies... i guess you'd really
want to protect your spidery-ego as much as
possible...
                  but when you state your privacy
among internet profiles - glass people in glass houses...
(who the hell puts up these profiles,
what's there to talk about, on the date,
when you already have an a priori picture of a person
and their interests?) -
   once again, i don't know how it happened,
but by revealing my private life in "public",
i somehow managed to turn into
a right ol' hermit...
                      and unlike the youtube mentality:
i'm still a stranger among strangers,
       maybe that comes down to my ability
to talk to old men on benches, randomly,
while having a beer and a smoke;
don't mind homeless people either -
  give them a cigarette, ask how they're feeling,
and never bothering to ****** them
about the ethos of work, given that
so much of "work" these days is exactly that:
"work".

With the third test in the series, now fast drawing to a close
The Australian team is ahead, by a veritable elephant's nose
This last session of play, they've scored the more than a run
Which has not filled, the Indian side with a stump load of fun

A substantial lead, has been built by the Aussie side
They've held their nerve, on the MCG's cricketing bide  
Each ball they've faced, has not made them cower in any way
No Indian spinners or quickies, have yet put them away    

After this match, there's sure to be a question put forward
As to why India ne'er got, that prized win on the board
Though they did attempt, to pepper Australia with mace  
They weren't successful, with their bowling or batting grace

The series of five test matches, is no more alive and kicking
As our Australian side, weren't on the pitch to take a licking
India put in a supreme and gallant effort, during the game's play
But the Australian side, were out to unmake their day

It's really hard to believe,
every single one of us
started out
as a reproductive cell,
swimming deeply
into a dark wet ******.
All of us were consummated,
******* during
different variations
of the intimacy act.
In fact, some of us
were quickies,
others one night stands
& maybe more than a few,
long romantic evenings.
Whatever, we all became babies.
I would like to think,
I was made on a warm summer evening,
lying on a white-sand beach,
under a beautiful full moon
next to the sound of the surf,
moving to a sweet rhythm.
But I wonder,
was I a mistake,
a break in the protection,
or something worse,
some type of infection.

Hot moments
flashed
under me
those afternoons.
Parking lots
made a mess out of me,
day and night
quickies
to please the senses.
I can no longer shop
Darling.

Palm to ribs he writes what’s not there.
His lips spill the cheap words, “it only beats to keep me alive.”

But the cavity in which it should exist echoes the emptiness of her last goodbye
and it’s not ready for anything more than short hellos and drunk quickies.

I ****** him for the first time at 5 am on New Year’s.
He’s the definition of a void, but we brought in 2016 with a bang.

It’s still unclear which it ******* more –
his body
or the hollow mirror image of my chest.

****.
Really?
No quickies...
Long stroke only then.

Its that mystical moment in time
when serendipity and fate
conspire to create
a cross roads
between you and your ultimate desire

cross roads become one road
and you find yourself
making odes
singing loads of love songs

its that time when glances
part crowded rooms and
for that brief second
a thousand words would have dimmed in comparison

late night conversations
stolen kisses and
needing more wishes
lunch time quickies
during meeting messages
ambiguous phrases

fill the air with cupids touch

your love struck
yet you find yourself stuck
between a rock and a hard place
and you declare
that serendipity and fate
had lost their case


for your intimate space
was already occupied
by a decade worth of memories
by a wedding ring
a couple birthings
and a husband who would have died
just for you

what ifs fill your mind
yet you remind your self
you would not have wanted it any other way
so you create a secret place
memories of his face
tucked neatly away
you smile with the knowledge
you'll love him always

BREAKFAST
Delicious morning ***.




                                            LUNCH
      ­                       Mind blowing midday ***.



                                             DINNER
                              Crazy I can't get enough of you ***.


                                              DESERTS:
   ­                                 Served throughout the day
 Spontaneous kisses, *** grabbing, **** grabbing and Quickies

                                                       ­                                tipping allowed

                                                        ­                                   Jon York   2019

it was truly a most wonderful day... i would have never thought
that Coldplay were such a grand band live...
it's not that i love them: it's that i just don't hate them...
work started at 3pm... we were supposed to sign in at 2pm...
i was 15 minutes early...
a £1.99 coupon from the Metro meant i could eat
a Big Mac and some fries before the shift...
a father and his little daughter sat down next to me
while a man talked to himself about perverts...
while being underdressed...
the heat was unbearable....
                      ****... i had to take 8 newbies to their shift
locations... i was on turnstiles... giving out wristbands...
i talked a minimum of any possible talk...
thanks you this thank you that became mere
nodding and smiling...
i don't think i touched so many female wrists in one
go... i was working for a hard-on of:
i'm not wearing a hat... or a kippah...
i really felt like ending this day in a brothel...
we finished at 8:30 when Coldplay came on...
we had 30 minutes to spare...
in that free 30 minutes they played my two favourite
songs: adventure of a lifetime and... paradise...
but Coldplay wasn't the Red Hot Chilli Peppers...
i don't hate them: but i don't love them...
i forgot to look at the stage when i saw the entire
Wembley stadium illuminated by those glowing
wristbands we were giving out...
i was there for the atmosphere rather than the band...
i smiled and put my head resting on a clenched fist
admiring humanity...
when humanity allows itself to relax...
and enjoy music...
we finished at 9pm... i didn't eat anything from
circa 2pm... so i went into the Wembley Lahore
curry house... ate at lamb tikka wrap...
sure... i'd love to have stayed for the whole concert...
but i also loved the idea of not queuing up
with the crowd...
       plus?! i'd get paid for the shift until 12am... even
though i finished at 9pm... so?
once i sampled the atmosphere i was glad
to ******* from there...
which meant? each... ****** time...
i have some remains of **** in my body
i get these head-jerks like i'm about to fall asleep
but get rudely woke-up...
at Liverpool street i did what ****-break did in
American Pie: people should stop ******* on the toilet
seats... i'm tired of putting toilet paper all around
the toilet seat... just to sit down and squeeze out
the shy remains of a loaf...
                   but i did... the pressure in my head
decreased a little... i drank a cherry apple cider admiring
Liverpool St. station... got on a train
and ****** off to Goodmayes...
got out... bought a 750ml bottle of cider...
walked around in circles with it.... thinking: best dilate myself...
i need to ****... plus... a dry cider?
after a heavy meal? works like an aperitif...
7.5%... that's the percentage for a cider...
it truly cures your digestive system of any blockage...
i then walked into the Tesco and bought 35cl of
whiskey and some Pepsi... did more circles drinking
about 150cl of the gold heart of ms. amber...

started rubbing my groins attempting to
get an *******... well... half-way through...
   not like a pervert: i was aiming to get something off my chest...
did another round of circle around the brothel...
walked in...
ah! there she was... a pretty plum of plump body type...
i needed that sort of body...
i only booked in for half an hour:
with a body like hers?! cherub plump?
what couldn't: what wouldn't have not done with it?

Michaela... that was her name...
i asked her if i could take a shower... i was sickly sweet
with sweat from the shift...
one hour or half an hour? let's see how it goes...
half an hour first... we'll see...
i'm pretty tired:

thank god for being able to take a shower...
wash my genitals etc.
and relax...

each any every man ought to feel this relief
after a day's worth of work...
whatever that work might be...
i was already admiring her physique from
the get go: her clothes were hardly an obstruction:
more, an invitation...
i do hope the people i work with never find
out about my secret life...
some are married and that's good on them...
i would never i could never love a single woman...
i'm like a ******* in that respect:
i need to be shared around...

it would break my heart to only love one...
to be faithful with only one...
i need more...
i'm the guy who "steals" kisses from prostitutes...
how Michaela jumped straight onto my lips:
like a bee toward a blooming flower...
i can't just tell her no... there's no simplified
version of NO... there's not no aversion to YES
either... it just happens...
i felt like a child with her adamant approach:
kiss me before we start playing hide & seek...
i like the plot of reassuring women...

she asked me whether i smoked, i replied yes...
i asked her: do you drink?
we smoked and drank some whiskey sharpshooters
before *******....
PARA-PARA-PARA-DISE...
it was a quickie... some girls like quickies...
i was feeling selfish: and thinking about shellfish...

i adore prostitutes... this one?
after a a kiss and a oral *** and: what position do you like?
*******: in the meantime:
i fell from my knee altar with a cramp...
ah! ah! CRAMP!
30 minutes was enough...
          oh man... she was butter, loaf, and a croissant
on the side... and: a man like me?
does he require a ring on a finger?
we ****** and then chatted...
Romania this that and the other...
no: i'm not here to **** them...
   i'm here t **** them them... i'm not here to love
them...
even they know the pretenses... of
suggested topic...

but how quick she was kissing  me...
i felt like a child...
kiss me: before i start playing this elevated guise
of hide and seek...
all before the *******: she did mention:
although Khadija didn't mention it...
£30 extra for non-****** *******...
£40 extra for vaginal ******* without
protection..
i'm not only here for half an hour...
and let me tell you...
i have a turtle's body that will be given wings...

i just received the splendours of slob
****** free for? for free!
my adoration for women is unbounded
in any framework if constriction...
love your mother like you might a *****...
or the reverse...
we smoked we drank, we talked...
i thanked her for becoming so relaxed...
to hell with marriage pleasure-dome melancholy...
i walked home back at 2am...

a very beautiful world...
                 but this girl... i kissed her lips: she stole mine...
i stole her eyelids...
we tried to make sense of our musical tastes...
plump body of plum....
           all the right shapes in all the right places...

i don't know why i'm on such good terms
with the MADAME and the "****":
maybe i'm just the type to love and to be loved:
why haven't you visited us more,
frequently, Matthew?
oh **** me, i'm on a first name basis?

next time a ******* steals a kiss from
me:
i ought to know the constellation
are awry....

i'm at it again, ******* to pictures of
naked women without climaxing...
i have to... i'm gearing up for an hour's
worth of the "***** deed"...
Michaela is going back to Romania
on the 28th of this month and
i have a Wembley shift on the 16th...

my god... i went to the shop to buy some ice-cubes
a whiskey and some pepsi...
and who was in front of me in the queue?
a ******* Rolls-Royce of a woman: my type...
my mythological type of woman... foreign...
i'm guessing German... blonde hair: but not albino,
ergo mingling with tinges of a brunette,
older than me, by i'm guessing at least 10 years...

definitely German... she was buying
(from what i can remember) cat food and beer...
i looked at her hands... no ring... i abhor jewellery...
my parents thought it would be cute for
a ****** boy to don a signet on the pinky finger
like the English aristocracy... i don't do rings...
even if i were married i couldn't wear a ring on my finger...
no chance! but this was a Rolls Royce of a woman...
suitor to my frame... big... well: not fat...
just: womanly: a womanly woman...
the type that might serve you beer in a tavern...

i lost my mind... certainly not a geisha type...
a bit like Michaela last night... oh...
she was plump alright: i really plucked a plum yesterday...
usually i have problems ******* within an hour...
Khadija sort of bypassed the ****** on her own whim...
Michaela also: but she asked me to pay her extra...
£30 for ******-less oral and £40 for the full deal...

i was only there for half an hour...
all that walking around drinking cider around the brothel
rubbing my groin to get the party started:
plus her frame? she looked like what artists or
men in general found attractive in the Renaissance:
plump women... i knew i was going to ******* pretty
quickly... an unfathomable force came along
an unfathomable object... sparkles...

with past girlfriends i was such a man-*****...
ooh... need to satisfy her blah blah...
Ilona even noted that not many men are like that:
she noticed my back-then ****** library:
i started reading that infamous book The Game by
that some other pick-up artist...
i soon found that pointless... started reading
Tantra... more useful...
but yesterday? i was a man...
            30 minutes: i heard women like quickies, no?
after oral she asked me, what position?
doggy... missionary is so ******* back-breaking...
but i wanted to look at her fat ***...
no... it wasn't premature *******...
it was: i just finished a shift...
i was out of the house for over 12 hours...
i was hot, sweaty... i started drinking...
forget getting something off my chest to a psychologist
or a priest... that third P...

it was blissful... it felt like the heat-wave was
over and it started raining: somewhere...
second time though? it won't be like that...
i'm already practicing keeping the *******
prolonged... it will take two or three days
or just stroking an ******* without actually *******...
but this Rolls Royce a blonde just now...
a full woman... a woman's woman...
feline eyes dabbed with the least amount of
mascara: a woman that was single...
but looked like she was catered to by a harem
of men... well: a harem of eunuchs and some sheikh...
at least: in my eyes...

a woman that could be the antithesis of cubism,
for sure... she could stand next to a Picasso
and i could tell you: that! that's the antonym!

i couldn't possibly behave like the noble swan
in monogamy... i also couldn't do whatever is "classical"
these days about what dating was about
in 1950s America...
no chance of that happening... this is Europe, after all:
we do things differently here...

- well that was a first, i never thought i would be
directing a bus driver about where to go,
his first shift: on the 86 bus route:
i was picking up a bicycle wheel from Bicycle King
of Chadwell Heath: one of my spokes
snapped from the heat... thankfully as i was about
to do a trip... anyways...
he turned around and opened his cabin door
and asked me to direct him... so i did...
this exit on roundabout x... that exit on roundabout y...
i remember the number 5 route back in Poland
ever since i kept to this comforting thought:
i wish to become a bus-driver once...
which routes? 86 is grand... 103 would be even better...

- Michaela? after we finished our "*****" deed
we just chatted... smoked cigarettes and drank
the whiskey i brought with me...
she asked me: do you smoke? yep...
so i asked her: do you drink? yep...
15 girls in total in the brothel...
2 Polish girls, 1 Turkish girl... 2 Russian girls...
the rest? Romanian...
what time do you finish? 5am...
what then, go back home and sleep?
no... i work in a hospital in central London:
i administer medication to patients...
i like showcasing my hygiene...
shower prior... washing my genitals after...
no... of course i wouldn't shower after having *** with
her: i want her body's perfume to stay with me...
she didn't shower after either...
like-minded ***-maddened people...

i love certain women too much to listen to western:
WASPS (western anglo-saxon protestant
feminists type): let's just have fun or let's just die...
i'm not coming near that "thing" without a yard-stick!
i'm serious!
            secretive "******" / nuns...
          i'm going to have a hard time ruling my secrets
under ol' king Charlie... i'm finishing off ol' Lizzie
reign with a crescendo... dearest Lizzie:
it has been a blast... thank you: god save the queen!

- stopped off at the Moon & Stars at Romford...
the smoking was packed so i sat on the public bench
with half-a-Guinness and smoked clinging to my wheel...
finishing my cigarette i implored fellow appreciators
of the brew if i could leave my stump of filter in their
ashstray:
- oi! mate! looks like someone stole your bike!
you're only left with a wheel!
- ha ha ha... pause... but it's a unicycle now!
- ha ha...

i'm starting to surprise myself more and more...
the alles-mensch...
i'm returning to people like i first met them
back in school...
the best way i can: as a chameleon...
i'm Matthew A with some... i'm Matthew B with others...
Matthew C with another group...
and they come to me like i'm some *******
priest, some advocate...
hey! if Walt Whitman could celebrate himself
i'm going to celebrate myself:
i'm done with feeling **** about myself:
i'm going to drink, i'm going to dance: to groove...
once upon a time there were serious leftist policies
and ideologies: that tied into an alternative
economic policy: but under the same yoke
of communism? it's ******* posturing...
i'm not going to take these people seriously: esp. if they're
coming from America...
people should know better...

- two songs...
      lyrically? run to the hills by iron maiden
and midnight oil's the dead heart are the same...
white man this white man that...
Poland was cut up in three by three great empires...
then it was resurrected and then it was conquered
by **** Germany and Soviet Russia...
then it was a Soviet satellite state...
hmm: why did the English invent cricket
and rugby and football?
a bit like that fortune that met Japan when a Mongol
fleet was met with a hurricane...
yawn: the Norman invasion of 1066...
the fortune of when the Spanish armada was
met with the fickle English channel weather:
a people who have not been conquered
for a long time: are not slack... slacking about...
so? whatever is coming out of America doesn't bother me...

mind you... the latest news is ******* promising:
isn't it? i wasn't a big fan of Salman Rushdie...
oh... right the two songs...
lyrically... similar?
musically though? there's that rough-edge:
bass that sounds like a horn...
Fall Out Boy's Uma Thurman has it...
and Midnight Oil's: the Dead Heart has it too...
it's a sound akin to the word: PROWL
if you trill the R... roll it... rattle it...

that's the thing with Midnight Oil...
i remember hearing that one song of theirs they
play on Polish radio... beds are burning...
i spent... over 10 years looking up both the band
and the song name: 10 years i was looking for that song...
and once i found it i figured: it's probably not even
their best song... hey presto...

oh right... Salman Rushdie gets stabbed 15 times in
the neck...
i'm not a massive fan: i tried reading pride...
mind you... i love the comparison he gives...
Satan is falling from the sky head first, calm,
motionless like a sack of potatoes...
while Gabriel? Gabriel is trying to imitate a bird...
flapping his hands and legs about...
i guess the former is a fatalist while the second
is a would-be-opportunist...
but **** me... 15 times in the neck?

i'm starting to think all Muslim men are secretly
women...
why? there's that quote: hell knows no fury like
a woman scorned...
well... that works just as well for Muslim men:
hell knows no fury like a Muslim man insulted:
wait wait... reiteration:
hell knows no fury like a Muslim being told there's
something like free-thinking...
that certain things can be scrutinised: revised...
ergo? Muslim men are feminine:
but no surprises... polygamy and eunuchs...
me? i don't care... like i told one colt outside of
a supermarket...
he gave me 10 squid to buy him a bottle of *****...
he was in a menage trois...
i took the tenner... bought myself a whiskey
and thought: hmm... might as well but him a litre
bottle...
walked out... oh man: i was mouthed off like mad...
why didn't you buy me a 35cl flask?!
why did you buy me a litre?!
i thought you wanted *****?
the argument became so heated that a security
guard emerged from the supermarket:
- i'll get my uncle to beat you up!
- boyo, listen... listen... i have a death-wish...
tell me where you uncle wants to meet up with me...
i'll just tell him you wanted to drink *****
at the age of 15 to impress a girl... your friend...
is already *******... you're just sloppy seconds mate...

oh sure... you can insult Islam by more ways than one...
Socrates? illiterate... Jesus? illiterate...
Muhammad? illiterate...
who accounted for the life of Socrates? Plato...
Jesus? hold up... a literate fisherman by
the name of Peter? so... fishermen were literate
but the carpenters weren't? ****'s sake...
what a gap... i can imagine a tax collector to be literate...
but there's a gap... carpenters were illiterate
but fishermen were... hmm...

Muhammad? despised in Mecca... took a trip to Medina:
what's the whole affair surrounding the Satanic
Verses? CRANES... some **** about how Allah
took an wife: a pagan Arabic deity... some **** like that...
i'm flimsy on the details...
the basic motto being: Allah has no partners...
he's ultimate omni-solipsist

that's how i arrived an the compliments towards
monotheism... sitting in the dark listening
to several variations of the Adhan...
this... monotheistic god: whether Jew-....
no no... he's different... the Hebrew god is equivalent
to Hades in Greek mythology...
in no known mythology: he's a god that's a god-eater...
he ate up Beelzebub... who was a deity:
before becoming Satan's sidekick...

insult Islam? what about that woman that ran around
two mountain ranges... wasn't she Abraham's concubine?!
she wasn't his wife...
monotheism = an autistic god...
a solipsistic god... a solipsistic...
the omni-verse of man's self capacity and capability...
it's a strange model since... polytheism produced
more interesting: more opened minded people...

oh: Islam is beautiful... just like camels and like
an oasis is beautiful: in a desert...
Dubai is also beautiful in a desert:
such a splendid: pointless city...
the Adhan... i love listening to Adhans...
those elongated vibrating vowels...
when Arabs sing it's perfectly alright...
they drop the glut of a drooling tongue of QBAH...

they resonate... they talk? i'm thinking about
sweeping the streets... or haggling over
some cheap **** in a flea market...

Muhammad was illiterate... funny... that flight from
Mecca to Medina... who did he marry?
an older woman... an entrepreneurial woman...
a businness woman...
funny... i ****** a ******* with her name...
Khadija... but this one is Turkish... she's not Arabic...
and unlike Muhammad: i'm writing
the ******* book, akin the lines of Elvis Costello's
lyrics: every, *******, day... me...
i'm writing it... because... who wrote the Quran?
at least the first surah?
Khadija! she wrote them! a woman wrote
the first entries of the Quran...
she was the literate one: he... sure as ****... from what
i heard: wasn't...
a woman wrote the first entries of the Quran...
mind you... why do the sheikhs adorn clothing in white
while the women are subject to attire in black...
seriously?! that predates Nietzsche proposition
of god being dead: who died?!
who died?! who died in order for women to suffer
so in the sun? that's predating the Victorian prim
and pomp...

            i don't want to understand these people...
stabbing a guy who scribbled some words
15 ******* times in the neck?
come on: hell know no fury like a Muslim man
insulted... guess his brain goes where his ****
is about to **** out a ******* Tikka Masala chicken
makeover with a pita bread and some veggie extras...
because: that's where it's going!

i do admire the adhan... like i admire crusader chants
of the templars...
but a call to prayer? i sense it: since i rarely dream...
a bit like... trying to have a handshake with my
shadow: a funny joke... prayer is such a selfish
endeavour... since... you're never really praying
for the betterment of others: just your self
and the solipsistic nature of a monotheistic deity...
love the songs: hate the tributes...

paint me: a prettier ******* picture...

it must be the heat... but i had this wild idea...
burning my brain... evaporating whatever is supposed
to be contained between the two ears..
and behind the two eyes...
woman are the best... but also the worst of humanity...
men? they're either the best or the mediocre...
after all: you can't be a ****** genocidal maniac to
begin or end with...
you're either a great genocidal maniac or you're not...

the point being... the love triangle of Paris...
Helen and Melenaous...
    hmm... i'm thinking...
i'm not a Holocaust denier... **** me: i'm pretty
sure a lot of Polacks were used to build
the concentration camps under forced labour...
no no... i'm thinking Helen...
i'm thinking who Adolf ****** dated...

i was watching this documentary where "they" excavated
genetic background checks from Eva Braun's
personal belongings... a hair-comb with her hair...
turns out... she had Hebrew ancestry...
so... ******... dated a Jewish girl... while: dessimating
the Jews... fishy... fishing for red herrings...
i don't care much for aliens:
i've seen a fluorescent UFO once...
obviously i didn't take a picture...
i was too engrossed in drinking and lamenting
while sitting under a tree in a summer that didn't
starve my mind with a heat-wave...

women are worst than men...
men are more stupid and smarter... paradox after
paradox... i'm thinking of Helen of Troy and i'm thinking
of Eva Braun...
is it a conspiracy theory? what if she...
a Jewish girl... whispered a sweet lie into that maniac's
ear... hey... you start a Jewish prone genocide:
our people: just might get our land back!
we might have our...
there was the genesis... there was the exodus...
what's the Hebrew word for the return?
the SHOAH-לַחֲזוֹר
        KHZUR... the event that's best coupled as:
SHOAH-KHZUR...
the calamity to return to one's homeland...
which... isn't... wasn't it true... come to fruition?!
Helen of Troy... Eva ****** nee Braun?
listen... i'm busy *******... i'm going to spend the next
few days ******* myself without
*******... so i can build up a stamina
for an hour and not finish: although: gladly...
within half...
        plus... i've already ****** a Turkish *******
with a name the same as Muhammad's first wife...
the one who wrote the first Surah of the Quran:
because... he was illiterate: while she wasn't...
my Hebrew might be off...
but... i don't believe in monotheism...
  to begin with...
                            i don't believe in an autistic
robot god... i don't believe in a robotic world...
some things can be changed...
but i sort of like entertaining the idea that Eva Braun
is the modern version of Helen of Troy...
the best an the worst in women...
in men? just the best and the mediocre...
she must have whispered into whittle Adolf's ear:
hey... you start killing my people...
the global community will finally decide to give the
Jews their homeland back...
start killing... genocidally...
i mean: **** me... didn't they commit a joint suicide?!
people conjure up fairy-tales all the time...
well: the ones that can...

after all i'm a huge fan of the Batman universe...
perhaps i didn't see my parents be murdered
as a child: what child does?
on a scale of averages...
i was raised by my grandparents: i had dogs for
siblings... i didn't see me father from the age
of 4 through to 8...
i didn't see my mother from the age of 6 through to 8...
i wasn't outright abandoned like
my father was by his parents and raised
by his grandmother and his foster grandfather...
maybe that's what makes me so "clingy" to them:
or the outright economic structures...
but? intellectually: i can prosper on my own...

i can have these thought: i have already stated...
i can read the newspapers and look down on
the journalists... you... established folk...
it's like these people are the ones with the money
to produce, buy and write eternal nothings
on papyrus... the priestly / journalistic class of folk...
but then the printing press appears
and the gatekeepers are bypassed...
ergo? the internet... i don't want money
for what i ingest, digest and therefore regurgitate...

i saw the potential for a cover-op.
                  i could really do some damage if i just
dedicated myself to a thirst for knowledge...
i could sit back and watch the world change:
like... like play-dough...
  and i have... and i will continue to do so...

with the Europeans having expelled the Hebrews:
who has been welcomed into our midst
to replace those Hebrews?
calamity-to-return... to one's abiding midst...
away from the Europeans and into the Arab lot...
after all:
didn't the Arabs and the Berbers conquer
Spain with the help of the Jews?
i heard that that's what happened...

i need to work on my Hebrew...
mind you... it's an enigmatic language...
how would i write shoah-khzur?

    ש (shin) i.e. the -in disappeares
vowels are diacritical marks in Hebrew...
although: א (aleph) and ע (ayin):
are the twin-gay-lords of Eden...
who somehow managed to give birth
to the children Leph and Yin through their ****...

i was told what i current wrote was a given:
but? makes no sense...
ש no O no A... ה
i would have written as שה...
                            i can now understand how and why
emperor Nero became so easily *******...
it wasn't about: oh these Hebrews and their fire deity...
he turned the early Christians into torches
and fed them to the lions, because...
look how these people write!
there are writing in cipher-mode!

there are no vowels in hebrew worth stating them
as letters! שה shoah: yeah... yeah!
Hebrew has two vowels as consonants: Aleph and Ayin...
the gay Adams...
all the other vowels are diacritical markers...
they're not proper letters...
vowels are female:
consonants as masculine...
don't: you ******* know... how nomadic people
work?!

the internet is DUMB... KHZUR...
לַ: that's lamedh...
      is the H a surd in Hebrew? i doubt it...
כהזר...

כהזר שה                  -->      <--

              how mighty must have the wrath of Nero
been... to turn the early Christians into
torches: where are your vowels!
i can see two vowels behaving like 'em!

i need to regret something...
on the 16th i'm going back to the brothel...
my favorite new album?
the 1987 release b Midnight Oil:
Diesel and Oil...
i need prostitutes...
i need more than king Solomon...
i have n infatuation with the bodies of mandible
potential...

there are words: that are letters:
shin-cholem-kametz-h'eh
kaf-h'eh-zayin-kibbutz/shurek?-resh ..

no wonder emperor Nero slaughtered the whole
lot of yous...
i wouled have too...
white man singing about the disgraces of fellow
white man...
good enugh for me: if the Africans weren't
moved to America and required to forget their African
tongue: they would sing zilch of the blues
and a zilch of jazz... there would be zilch
of Mbapa Ella Fitzgerald... no Nina Simone...
no "RESPECT"...
            *******: self-flagellating whittle white man
of the anglo-saxon demands...
no! if there was no slave-trade...
toward the Americas... there would be no jazz!
no escape from the mind of a Mozart...
Europeans don't have voices to sing!
Africans do! but they require a European tongue
to sing in!

what racial pride? pride in what?
not keeping your language?!
being black racist supe-racialists...
our ethnicity is more important than the language
we speak? seriously?!
you... you're doubly the slave...
you don't speak your mother's tongue...
you are urban *******...
that's what you are... to me...
urban *******...
                            i speak my mother's tongue...
i guess being bilingual can be a little bit complicated...
i guess it's easier otherwise...
urban *******...
                    "natives"...
                                      as a ****** i get the whole:
"native" project all the time... **** it...
i'm siding with the imaginary Tsar...
                                  no! nein! niet!
nie!

                                  i know what brown-skinned
people are like in the work-force... they're worse than
women: they're lazier...
i'd like to think about shooting them in the head:
to get them to move-on...
esp. their younglings...
their young are CULL MATERIAL...
maybe that's why they reproduce so much:
they are CULL MATERIAL...

maybe that's why i'm experiencing a heat-wave...
i'm building up an adherence toward
a super-structure of disease-aversion...
and that implies... racial-tension mechanisations...
because i have to...
i have to... the Chinese are not going to stop *******
silly... the Indians aren't... while the demands on
the Europeans to "save the earth": **** it...
no no.... listen...
this planet is decidedly going to burn...
i just don't care...

                        i don't have any children...
i don't have a future beside the future of an idea...
that's all i have...
i don't care...
                    you burn whatever you want to
burn...
  i just wish i was living in Apocalyptic Times
and i was the Mad Max...
i seriously wish i was the reinvested
patriarch Abraham in the reinvented times
of new beginnings...

If you were a goat
I will spare you
They are lower animals
But yes, they have libido too
Divinity made it so

If you were a Dog
I will also spare you
I see them everytime
Especially when emotions are high
The don't need a "cold room"

Life gave you life
You climbed the ladder
Maybe faster than others
But, "Say you first me reach bus stop..."
No mean say you go first me enter motor"

You desecrated our land
Abused the anointing
Reneged on your marital vows
Pounced on innocent girls
Maybe you do boys too
The thunder that will fire you is warming up

So, there is a "Cold Room"
Where you worship in your daughter's altar
While your daughters schools abroad
I blame the government
To whom education means nothing

Flush them out fast!
Many have become victims
They succumbed to pressure
Exchanged their dignity for vanity
Orchestrated by a monster in human form

You are only privileged
To be a priest over our children
As their lecturer, they saw a god in you
But you abused this grace
Your time is up!

We will follow this through
Until justice is served
You need to be incarcerated
This crime is a sacrilege
And the time to pay is now

My fellow Students
The hour has come
To expose these randy lecturers
If you were ever abused
This is the time to speak up

You gain nothing keeping quiet
Lend a voice to the next generation
In us lies their strength
Say no to "*** for admission or grades"
But you are not alone...

Just a line of thought
If infidels cannot make heaven
What happens to those worse than infidels?
Think about this
These ones are already condemned

They compel our daughters to pay for hotels
They engage them in quickies in their enclosed offices
That is exclusive of the"Cold room" encounter
But for guys, you have to sort them
Because you don't have a hole

Dear investigative journalists of African descent
Be bold and fearless in your discharge
We are in a race to end this scourge
This should have been you unearthing this
Thank God a foreign brand stepped in
What will history remember you for?

My name is Babatunde Raimi
I am product of Nigeria's University of First Choice
I know some very fine lecturers
This does not represent our value
We fume against unethical practices in any form

Not all the prophets in Egypt bowed to baal
Not every lecturer is a randy dog
Rest assured, justice will be served
We pride in our name andgreat academic feats
Our products are doing exploits world-over
We will not allow no one bring "That name" to disrepute