Ima beast I'm the devil I'm in chaos every night cause I know who he really is..
My diary knows who he really is even that didn't want to come and spend a night for I am intoxicating ....drip...drip..

Sicko run threw my veins
Sicko run threw his home
Please ignore the possibility of walking alone.
Alter egos or ****** life
It wants me to be someone today and another at night.
But I swear and pray and those hold me tight.
Sicko, sicko
Get lost tonight

You know those moments
where  you have your
deepest
darkest
secret
perverted
disgusting
wrong
worrying
thoughts
and you realize
you're a real sicko

After long dark,
you can find me in my mind;
taming serpents; kissing girls.
You may not understand
why I've been the way I am.
You're under-educated
and that's only half your fault.

Sometimes I am imprisoned
within the waves of an ocean
that always misbehaves --
but it's not my fault; just the
way the god rolls: making halves
and making wholes.

After the short syrup of light,
you can find me hiding, true;
pulling off ticks; kissing boys.
You may not comprehend
the way I'm fumbled together.
You're under-educated
and that's only half your fault.

Always I am imprisoned
within the crash of culture;
my thoughts treated like worms;
my illnesses considered contrived.
But it's not my fault; just the
way you guys roll: ignoring halves
for conventional wholes.

Buffalo Bill was tweaked,
a real *******,
making a skin outfit like that
& dancing around like a super freak,
pinching his *******
& screaming at captured chicks
to put lotion on their skins.
What a sicko.
For real.

BILLS BILLS BILLS !!!!
  
Soooo Many ... **** Bills ... !!!
I don't like Destiny's Child ... !!!
This ain't a Dance Drill ... !!!
  
I’m writing this poem
cos i'm ... TIRED ... of ... " BILLS " ... !!!!!
  
BILLS ... for the Electric ... !!!
BILLS ... for the Gas  …!!!
Soon … they'll be Billing ...
For taking a .... "SLASH" .... !!!?!!!
  
BILLS ... for ... The NET …
BILLS ... for your Texts ...
BILLS ... for those ... HOTLINES ...
For .... Telephone *** .... !!!
  
What will they bill next .... !?!
They're Billing .... Soooo Much ....
They don't even want ... Cheques ... !?!
  
Just Tap In ... Your PIN …
that's how they'll begin ...
to steal ... ALL Your Money ...
  
Why don't people see …. !?!
are they REALLY .... "THAT DIM" … ???
just look ... In Your Bank ...
  
"The Beast" .... Lies Within ....
  
Cashpoint machines .... “FAILING” ....
The service is .... “SICKENING” .... !!!
  
Meantime ..... YES ...... Your Bank
is … “HAPPILY” … Billing ....
  
Now ... I really would CHILL ....
if I ..... Never Again .....
SAW  .... A **** .... Dollar Bill !!!!
  
cos ... AMERICA’S ... used them
for Killing ... at Will ...
  
kinda gets me to ... Thinking .......
that ... even .... " Bill Clinton " ....
just bombed without ... Blinking ... !?!
  
Sudanese People .... DIED ...
as the U.S. .... just .... LIED ....
  
While meantime .... Bill Tried ... !!!
to STOP .... his **** .... SHRinKing ... !!!!!!
  
Lewinski .... for sure ....
Was NOT .... "FINGER LICKING" …. !!!!!
  
But doing ... Her Thing ...
while thinking ........... Ch-Ching ... !!!!!!!
  
Meantime .... Bill's career ....
was about to start .... SINKing ....
  
" TITANIC " ..... Indeed ..... !!!
  
Bill ... fulfilled ... His Need .... !!!
  
but then came ... The Press ... !
Monica's … "All DISTRESSED ... !!!"
  
but Bill ... Tried his Best ... !!!
once again .... to .... “DECEIVE” ….
  
but ... All of A SUDDEN ... !!!
BILL made ... "A NEW SOUND" ...
  
“Okay, Yes I did it … !!!”
  
The TRUTH ... did ... come out ... !!!!!!
  
So, how many Bills ... ?
are feeding us ... LIES ... !?!
from BILLS ... that we pay for ... ?
To … “UNIFORM GUYS” …. ???
  
Oh Yes ... The ... “OLD BILL” …
over here ... NEED TO ... chill … !!!!
They're beating on ... BLACKS ...
"RACISM" ….. “INSTILLED” …. !!!!!
  
Blacks Dying in ... Cells ...
All Show ... but ... No Tell ... !?!
of how this ... CHIT ... happens ....
  
“THE YOUNG MAN JUST FELL !!!!”
  
See, that's the ... Hard Sell ….
that's what ... Blacks Deserve ... !!!!!!!!
Ask .... Warren Mitchell .... !!!
  
Alf Garnett …. I MEAN ... !!!!!
  
See …. On TV screens ...
for years ... they've been showing ...
Blacks being .... "DEMEANED" ...
Drug Dealing .... or .... VIOLENT …
  
Then they want to ... BILL ME ...
for a **** ... TV Licence ... !!?!!
  
They may well be ... "Jokes" ...
to … “OLD SCHOOL” … White folks …
  
But .... Listen up ... CLOSE ... !!!!!
  
A Joke is a Joke .... !!!
but some ... "OLD BILL" ... these days ...
are those ... “*******” ... blokes ... !!!
  
So ... who in the end ...
will have faces of ... YOLK ...
  
Well .... NOT .... Rodney King !!!
Try this for a name ....
PC .... Julian Glyn ....
  
A .... Leicester .... Policeman …
caught .... " CHILD MOLESTING "… !!!
  
See i'm SICK of ... these Bills !!!!

We're paying .... "TAXATION" ...
for these ignorant ... " SICKO’S " ... !!!!!!!!!
to get their ... "CHEAP THRILLS" ... !?!
or to use ... Dollar Bills
to get people .... KILLED .... !!?!!
  
So ….

There are a FEW Reasons ...
why ... Bills ... get to me ...
amounting to ... TREASON ...
  
Haven't YOU ... had your fill ... !?!
  
Well ... maybe you ... Have … ?
Or ... maybe you ... Haven't … ?
  
I just want to ... RELAX ...
and be able to ... " CHILL " ...
and not have to ... Worry ...
about these ... " ****** " ….
  
BILLS … BILLS … BILLS … !!!!

am I a sicko
wanting something different
from what I should want?

Four Marines lost their lives to what is being called domestic terrorism.
Some sicko with a gun shoots these guys. One of the dead is just 19 years old.
I did not cry because I was sad that four American men lost their lives to violence.
I cried because for the first time, I'm so glad that you're in Japan, so glad that you're so far away.
I'm so glad you're alive.

Let me walk you through inside a writer's mind.

Aren't you curious?

How can someone write like that?
How can someone have those sick emotions?
How can someone be so dramatic?
How can someone be that suicidal?
How can someone be so sad?

You know what?
Being able to write about those things is a privilege.
If I have no one to talk to,
if I have no one to vent all my sentiments,
poems are going to slap me with a pen and a paper.
And i'm all good.
Once i've let go of that burning pen,
the moment I read what I wrote into that ****** paper.
My diaphragm finally relaxed,
I can finally breathe.

And when a writer doesn't have any inspiration,
that soul must do all thy take to feel everything and anything in order to fill those pages, those ****** pages.

You must value every word you read inside a poem or any kind of literature.

Because you didn't know what emotional ride that living flesh took just to serve you those burning hot raw words.

But aren't you curious?
Don't you want to know what it took?
What it took to serve those emotions to you?

A writer...
Scream, screamed like a mad sicko.

A writer...
Cry, cried like a new born baby.

A writer...
Laugh, laughed like there's no tomorrow.

A writer...
Burn, burned in their own oil.

A writer...
Slit, slitted thy skin and...

A writer...
Cut, cutted thy flesh and...

A writer...
Bleed, bleed until there's no more left.

Bleed until that living soul can write something.

A writer...
Is empty.

A writer...
Is a lost soul who can't find it's way back.

A writer...
Is dead... inside.

Then, viola!

A burning hot literature is served.

And that, my friend, is what inside a writer's mind.

I used to be an intern for CD Tech Health Corps
I worked with stipend money
Through Trade Tech Community College
I was trained to learn about health in
The communities of Los Angeles, California
And how it affects us as individuals and as groups

Some things I already knew like how the government
Allows liquor stores, fast food restaurants and loan offices
To be overpopulated in middle class and ghetto communities
To cause: misery, addictions, and poor work ethic
But people got used to it, even though it’s obviously unfair

What I didn’t know is by law there is supposed to be
A limit on how many fast-food and liquor stores
There are on each corner in the community

I learned from watching the Michael Moore video called Sicko
That the pharmaceutical companies own the hospitals
And they pressure the doctors, nurses and other staff employees
To refuse to help some people if they don’t have health insurance
Or they make it difficult for the people who are qualified for it
By making these ridiculous rules and requirements

I saw a grown man cry to God for help, because he was very sick
But the insurance company wouldn’t cover his
Medical procedure… a few years later he died

I learned that: France, Canada, and England run their hospitals
With more efficiency and compassion than the United States:
A visit to the hospital is free; they provide safe transportation home,
Give patients money to catch a cab, and they believe in
Treating their citizens with resect whether they’re rich or poor

C’mon people we live in the most powerful country in the world
And we supposedly have the best health care system on earth
We should back up that reputation, embrace the Obama care
Or come up with a better health care program to help all of our citizens
And we should be more Godly about how we treat the less fortunate

david was warning me, i didn't listen
instead i kept on running towards you
controlfreak of the netherworld, goon
my life is like a fairy tale, shimmering

invention and glory, similarly
psychopathic word play, baby doll
schizoprenic flow, i have to write
standing ovation for my family

some people have double standards
sweetlove tried to correct me;
hosting a contest about racism
playing grammar police, she was like:

"could you edit this horrible slang?"
no, it's simply the voice of many people
i demasked your entire outfit, kiddo
never ever will you hear back from me

once upon a time, i grew up, now i'm huge
tall, fat, dope, fresh, i'm *******
adjectives for my people to subsist
my life's a motion picture, get it baby

pipi langstrumpf zöpfe, du lächerliche
throw some german into the mix and be real
dinosaurs are chasing me, as long as i'm on it
paranoia guardians, copycat killers, word

livelong sessions, i'm not hiding myself
behind the mask is a good-hearted sicko
a sick, good-hearted person, no doubt
broad-shouldered and i stick my chest out

I was once
Your *****
Now your girl
That's why I
Left
Your sick
Little
World.

Ha im a sicko
a ******
a troubled youth
grown to a ***** mouth
Been sellin dope out the days inn
yeap she look at me
This ***** going in
Have her hollar out
eat that *****
she know im good
cuz im mexican
ill eat the taco
treat that ***** like a buffet
and here I go again
she pop that *** back
and I make it soakin wet

You drained me out of words
when you show me your world
fantasy full of lies
beneath the dark dark skies.

I was speechless,
motionless,
witless, powerless
to act on impulse
no less.

The culmination of our meeting
lead me into thinking
I am no scatter-brain
to be used for your pain.

Yet something told me
ominous as a dark cloud can be
you are not who you are
a dream, you so callously portrayed to me.

You are a wolf you say
howling, hunting for a prey
in my dreamless sleep you came
bare of everything;
armed with burning desire to fullfil the beast that you became.

You touched me like hell
I was like a wrecking belle
repulsing every movement you take
stopping every attempt you make.

Go away, don't disturb me and my peaceful sleep
go back to God-knows where you came so deep
don' t drag me to your so- called world, sicko-wacko
You're a man not a wolf you know.

Swallow your own thirst
engulf by your own dark mist
drown in your own sorrow
because now I blocked you
to leave me in peace and a better tomorrow.

She was the only son
Her father never had.
Her legs were lean and long,
Alas, her eyes were bad.
And then at Sweet Sixteen
Her Father drove her mad.
(A sicko is a ******, after all.)

And after ten long years
They set her on the street.
With a pretty dress
And new shoes on her feet.
And so she looks for Daddy...
Or any fresh, new meat.
(Cuz an axe is an axe, after all.)

A magic floor show.
Floor show of syllables.
Hotchpotch box of nouns and verbs.
A powerful infusion.
Cast me a spell.
Maybe using,
Celtic herbs.

Better still poetic words.
I wish that with sweet sorcery.
That that sweet man would notice me.
Be attentive to me.
One or two of my needs at least.

Rip off the lid.
Be glad you did.
Press release.
In a box of spells was stored.
A sweet sanctity of incantations.
Painted blue imagination.
Maybe red.
Hop in my bed.
Summoning my mischief man.

If I could get an eagle to ****** him in her claws.
Up up up away.
As fast as she can.
Carry him to my place just for today.
Got to drop him on my bed.
With a little luck drop him on his head.
Obviously don't end up dead.
Hit him with a little sense.

Send him back to me.
Wrapped.
Unwrapped.
However he comes.
Christmas paper's not a mistake.
Could do with a decent gift.
Still feeling rather miffed.

Stick him in my stockings.
This nurse is for shocking.
No desire for a thicko.
Certainly don't want a sicko.
But I shan't say what I want!
Except a renewed friend request... LOL
(c) Livvi 01/12/13

I hope this is a ****** joke
That there's no fire only smoke
Coming from guns loaded with ire
But lacking the guts the triggers require

I hope,  Sicko, that you're okay
That this is just another display
Of frustration or anger or sadness
I don't know,  help me,  this is madness!

Crying fire like that on the phone
Yelling help in that convincing tone
Quite an actor,  you are,  what a stunt
You must take me for a stupid ****

Tell me,  why did you send that text
When you know what will happen next
I'll be out of my my wits with fear
That you might this time actually disappear

It's been days now,  and I'm losing hope
I thought jokes were your means to cope
Now I'm not so sure this is fun
If it is, then please stop,  you have won!


Please respond,  please,  I beg you, call
I shall not hold a grudge at all
I just hope that you're safe, okay
Help me chase that paranoia away.

It's apparently an oddity
A strange thought to be
Capable of flight - of mental invincibility
Life awarded to those 'fortunate' enough to win the lottery.

Put down the mental shotty
Imagining brains displayed sloppily
Doing things naughtily
Sickening debauchery.

With your eyes, can you see?
Or still blinded by your hate-filled ideology?
Imaginary substances manifesting at your fingertips, illogically?
Swinging, pulling, pushing, prodding, don't you miss your family?

Pleading cries, misty eyes just push you into ecstasy
Dear God, just get away from me
Hard to believe we're of the same blood, house stench of rotten memories
Same blood you want to spill. Indefinitely.

I think mother is starting to burn, put her in the oven lovingly?
Water over flowing, brother drowning - turned the faucet peacefully?
Little Kacey's stomach not pumping, smothering with a sense of superiority?
You belong in a mental institute, just get the hell away from me!

You killed my brother, took my mother, murdered my sister happily
Killing me next will give you a feeling truly satisfactory!
Father isn't your name, you're a mother ******* demon, knowingly!
No, it's too late. Nothing can save me now, God has abandoned me surely.

You satisfied yet, you ******* sicko? For you, this is mandatory
We were once a happy family, father and son, but this is the end of the story.
A comedy, drama, horror. The story became a tragedy.
It just ***** that this couldn't end fantastically...

I want to admit the pain I'm suffering, but attention spans don't last too long,
I want to give the world something to remember me, I want to create a stone,
in which my children read to follow on by passing down to future centuries
remembering who I am, but here I am again, sitting all alone feeling like bore.

I don't want to hurt a million hearts in the process of creating machinery of love's heartbeats,
the gears are stuttering like the words out of my mouth, every opening is like a new glitch,
a new broken tool found amongst the metal pipes.

I can say, I am a cheat, a worthless matter, but look, I've noticed why I broke the hearts of him,
he wanted me, I did too, but I was so caught up in my own lies I couldn't tell him the truth,
it hurt too much because in the end I wanted to be loved, but I let lust take over that night,
it blinded me dearly, and choked me until the dawn light, those days I wanted to run and to die,
I just wanted to desperately cry, my friend's palm arose from my shoulder,
this time I knew, I really ****** up this time.

But after five months of the pure misery, of staying up every-night wanting to cry my eyes out,
I found out that I was blessed with love, I saw him walking around, speaking out loud,
his knowledge would spread like a disease, except this time, I want to breathe,
yet I see him walking away, out of my palms into the grey, please don't go away.
I don't want to, feel the pain I felt so much before, maybe this time, it's not meant to end,
please somebody set me free.

I try so hard to fall in love again, but it's so hard to get that spark up, I feel like hiding,
shadowing away, but every time love comes I run away, I don't want to shatter hearts any more,
I am toxic, a demon girl. Please, please, please, I don't want to be this way.
You were the only smile I could feel the warmth, everyone around, but my eyes locked,
locked onto you, you are perfection to my eyes.
Yet the past it crept on in, when I could've grabbed your hand, it pushed me away,
choking my breath, my hands won't stop shaking I'm in such a mess.

I am here everyday, crying inside, please can someone see past my façade,
I am insane, I'm crazy, I am a sicko but somebody love me.
I've been raised to be the perfect woman, and now on, I feel like disasters,
Please don't stereotype my body, my heart it's not the same thing.
I want to write, I want to paint, I want to sing, perform on a stage,
I want to draw every piece, but every drawing, it looks like him or a stranger.

Above in Maroon.

Pond.
Suffer numb.
Hurry.
Sick of.
Sicko.
Sewing grass into clothes.
Glitter for the sleep.
Eyeshadow and weep.
From Let her dance to Wanna be sedated.


Garrett Johnson.

I will name you and shame you, in public, at will,
I will point out your face in the crowd,
I will tell all the secrets that I've kept inside,
I will scream them all out so loud,

Your a heartbreaker, a dream taker, a low life coward,
You snatched away my youth,
People will know what a sicko you are,
After they hear the truth,

Your a dog, a rat a vile waste of space,
I hope your mind brings you pain,
Your an innocence eater, liar and deceiver,
In hell you'll rot, again and again,

But wait!!!! Hold on, just stop still there,
Take a good long look it's me,
I've survived, revived, stayed alive,
Because I'm stronger than you'll ever be,

So when you see me, don't get a thrill,
Don't think you have ruined me,
Coz I'm telling the secrets to the judge in the court,
And they're gonna throw away the key.

My grandmother's boyfriend ***** me at three
They thought that I liked it.  No, I said please
Leave me alone, you're not funny, this hurts
Then I would have to wear sicko's hot spurts
  
This, added with prenatal memories
Left me scarred for life, an e'mergency
Case of I'll get back in time.  Do you hear?
Now that I've killed you can call me a queer
  
Just 'cause you said it don't make it true
You'd probably hurt me more,  make me eat glue
Imagine one day that this happened to you
And know just how much I am permanently *******

so i situate my ego on an equilibrium,
i decided to rekindle the old sketch,
engrossing the legs to walk,
while the hands turned purple-numb
   in my care to exhaust parts of my
body: to no relevant pursuit...
well: that's called
the ego situated between the equator
of legs versus hands,
  as the old saying goes:
  the devil makes work of idle hands...
or should i rephrase that:
   better take to walking
for the prime source of inspiration;
and truly,
    if my life was a dream,
a fairy tale, an account of living
in north korea... i'd be more glad
working in a sewer...
              but i stick to the maxim:
my life is so boring,
  i decided to write about it.
that's 9... nine (not nein) years
as a quasi-celibate...
     what between the odd
south african teacher with dry
genitals that i deemed to call
the equivalent of ****...
    and the several romanian prostitutes
who taught me how
the madonna-***** complex is real
in women when they began *******
by smearing cream into
          their vaginas for added lubrication
at the end of the day...
        and i thought that the worst
thing imaginable was me jerking off,
starting from age 7 / 8...
   women have much more imagination
in the realm of genitals...
  anyway...
   or that Thai girl i picked up in a park
drinking beer, a rush of sudden conversation,
took her home, ****** her in
the garden and ******* into my arm...
      so it's not like i wasn't aware of
being sensible about how or where i
plotted those flowery-***** sprouts...
  i haven't been circumcised
so i know what a quasi-circumcision
looks like, i know from ****
how i am better off rolling it back
so my "lack" matches up to her floral patten
of the *****...
    ******* once circumcised
makes no sense... absolutely none...
       the ******* exists for the sole purpose
of allowing a ****** "*******"
prior to the zenith of your brain's completely
development... early 20s is a time
when your brain is fully developed...
    which makes abortions, a tad bit
excessive, riddled with protestant
predestination arguments...
   you can't **** anything
  that isn't exsaxtly human form...
let alone fully developed (minding the brain)
prior to the age of mid-20s...
    the only thing that's killed is a potential...
stacked in the what if universe alongside
the Nazis conquering Britian...
      which is why, i guess,
people source the cogito genesis within
the brain, or should i just call it Brian?
       i'm not saying go for it!
  i'm saying, under the circumstances,
i first ****** her with a ******,
     she said take it off,
so i asked her: please take the pill...
so she took it...
    then she "forgot" to take it...
   she even chose the engagement ring...
    then i finished my "studies"
in edinburgh, went back to london
to start a new degree and work part-time
as a roofer...
         and then all hell broke loose!
  thankfully i am not writing like a Don Juan
might write...
  if my life was as colourful as the exploits of
Don Juan... i wouldn't be writing about it...
   i'd sit idle and watch the movies
provided in the memory-cinema...
   getting a hard-on ever so often
and completely disregarding *****...
       but i'm not...
   so here goes...
                     but you know what's scary?
she told me this, the one i "forcefully"
impregnated and can't stop thinking about?
she told me in her sacred heart of intimacy
that she was abducted as an early sprout of
teen due to her family being well off in Russia
and kept prisoner... and sexually exploited...
   as a kid...
                   now that i think about it:
like i already mentioned,
  i don't have a rhino's horn needing ****
in terms of ******* into a tissue or a ****...
i don't have this urge to be an arsonist
to plop a **** into a woman's womb...
maybe losing my virginity to a third year
exchange student of psychology from
Grenòble / due to the accent on O
   it's actually Grenòbl -
    what, you think i lost it to a *******?
no, *** starved spent a year and a half at uni
i decided to have a poke with one
   when i went to Poland to visit my
grandparents... told you: a total ******* of a story.
yes, she was Ukranian,
  she had one gold tooth...
   and we drank ***** and i ****** her for
two hours...
   after which she was like: you done?
then we lay in an embrace and i kissed her
forehead and cheeks...
  and she said: you're a good person...
apparently not!
     ****!
            the worst is that the brain is so late
in registering all this *******...
   if we're talking we're genital prone
from, literally the word go...
and the brain only catches up to the body
once you pass being aged 20+...
who's to do what when they engage
in a relationship who tells you
they've been abducted, and evidently
*****, and then they twist and turn
   your care to provide, but bypass it
and tell you: it'll be fine, **** me,
impregnate me, and we'll work it out
after...
               i was about to sit my final exams
and get a job in Scotland at some chemical
plant! what the ****, what the ****
am i doing living a sordid life,
paitning my face to a clown
   and "partying" at Halloween?
   now i'm saying what she said to me:
life is ****...
         well... it trully is right now...
the greatest joy i have is: walking, drinking
4 cans of beer...
    passing a winter tree,
the sky hazy with cloud, and a scythe of a moon
looked from under a tree, bald and synapse filled,
scattering it's twiggy centipede arms...
   and i say:
      it's not exactly a scene from a poet
in graveyard,
   more like a drunk in suburbia: but i get the picture.
all i meant to say, is that after the very brief
relationship... i didn't do anything stupid
as to impregnate someone...
     i don't even know if i did...
     but as Nietzsche once said:
no one really tells me anything these days...
and so, the last news i heard concerning
me was my father saying:
   don't you think there's a shaman in your family?
if that isn't a pleasant surprise
much congested with huh?!, i don't know what is.
i said it already:
Thai bisexual girl, picked her up in a park,
she was drinking alone,
took her home, played her some jazz,
then switched to playing her
  michael greilsammer, and we ****** in the garden,
i ******* into my hand rather
than... rather than? this ain't *****-land,
what, her face?! sicko.
             then i walked her home,
put on her a jacket of mine which she drowned in,
and just outside her home
   she gave me a necklace with a ring
attached to it... that changed colour.
              so you want tartar (i.e. raw) poetry?
well... this is it...
         i can't be as systematic as de Sade...
but i can recount a memory or two...
               oh, ** **, don't get all *****
on me... it's a sad sad (insert snigger) tale...
          have i ever ****** a black girl?
yeah... picked her up in a Stratford pub,
this plump middle-aged beauty...
she takes me to her flat...
                two kids in it...
   she throww Hanzel and Gretyl off the bed
and tells me to aim at her squeezed tighs rather
than her ******... i do about two strokes
and then say to her... i can't...
   i remain in her bed, when i wake up
little nergo Hanzel is standing beside the bed
looking at me,
   completely naked i take him up
   and lay him onto my chest where he falls asleep...
  gently stroking his frizz / afro /
scortched keratin...
     and as i endlessly say:
   there no imagination in this, only experience...
if there was any to begin with...
i'd be Colonel Mc-******* Disney
(you know what's scary...
   i'm writing this and there's complete silence
around me... akin to that ancient Polish
proverb: cicha woda, brzegi rwie...
    i.e. silent water, tears away the shores,
tea tie tare tear tears tares... she picks
sea-shells on the sea-shore...
  that's gagging for the tetragrammaton to appear,
if not the already stated arguments
bound elsewhere).