they said they did it for efficiency's sake.
birthed machine after machine,
just to increase the rate
                                  per
                                 time.
no god-given talent or skill,
can defeat this adaptive assembly line.

no man-     P
no fire-         O
no brain-       W
no super-     E
no will-      R

it's flawless at first glance, and maybe even second.
simply perfect to the naked eye; even the telescoped, i reckon.
but under a microscope, it becomes simple to see,
this single-purposed way of life isn't human; how can it be?

just like control + C, control + V,

i believe they've synchronized simplicity.
  believe they've synchronized simplicity.
                they've synchronized simplicity.
                              synchronized simplicity.
                                                     ­  simplicity.
                                                     ­                   .
                                                                ­        .yticilpmis
                                             ­                           .yticilpmis dezinorhcnys
                                                    ­                    .yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht
                                                         ­               .yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht eveileb
                                                         ­               .yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht eveileb i

                                                              ­                         ,V + lortnoc ,C + lortnoc ekil tsuj

                                        ?eb ti nac woh ;namuh t’nsi efil fo yaw desoprup-elgnis siht
                                                          ,e­es ot elpmis semoceb ti .epocsorcim a rednu tub
                                    .nokcer i ,depocselet eht neve ;eye dekan eht ot tcefrep ylpmis
                                                       .dnoces neve ebyam dna ,ecnalg tsrif ta sselwalf s’ti

                                                           ­                                                                R      -lliw on
                                                              ­                                                           E     -repus on
                                                              ­                                                        W       -niarb on
                                                              ­                                                          O      ­   -erif on
                                                              ­                                                             P     -nam on

                                                             ­                .enil ylbmessa evitpada siht taefed nac
                                                             ­                                   ,lliks ro tnelat nevig-dog on
                                                              ­                                        .emit                    ­                  
                                              ­                                                          rep    ­                              
                                  ­                                                                 ­     etar eht esaercni ot tsuj
                                                            ­                              ,enihcam retfa enihcam dehtrib
                                                         ­                .ekas s’ycneiciffe rof ti did yeht dias yeht

Truth be told, I was skeptical.
Was this worth the cowry shell equivalent?
My mind was a dry skin covered foot caught on a fleece blanket.
My tongue, lined with the taste of that earthy bile.
Distant isles between Alaska and Ayahuasca,
but it all comes rushing back. Jungle visions.
-
I
        take
                    ten
               ­              sickly      
                                          steps
                ­                                     toward
                                                          ­         the
                                                             ­              teetering  
                                                     ­                                      ethereal
                                                        ­                                                  edge.
-
She's once again lined with that finespun glow.
I'm once again letting the little things go.
She's letting me know for the very first time.
I'm struggling to find words for the very last rhyme.
-
                                        Trudging
       ­     tip-toed
through
                                           ­                       the
                  nonlinear
      narr­ative;
                                       elegantly
                                                       ­     elephantine.
-
Lick your wounds, traveler.
Set your eyes to the pale star's gleam.
Dogma unraveller
with an elementary scheme.
We are nature's instruments.
We are watchers in the night.
Softened slightly by the dissonance
of the dearly departed Wight.
-
He's slipping in and out.
Orbium linguam avium.
Labra lege: hic sunt dracones.
Let us dine on cremated elves.
-
     m sw ll   w  ng sw rds   nd st rs.
R zn hdzooldrmt hdliwh zmw hgzih.
I a         a  o   i          o      a         a  .
I am swallowing swords and stars.
-
.ecnatsbus em evig dna eniltuo ym nekraD
.savnac eruza siht otno seye s'ti tsac dluow nuS eht hsiw I
?suhpysiS fo redluob eht I mA
.noitcerid gnorw eht ni gnilbmut no peek I
-
We're sailing on the calmest of waters,
but there is not a drop to drink.
Bad news for the boy who only rejects omens.
I will not hang a dead bird around my neck.
Retrace the lace and my hazy days of habit,
then let me know your honest opinion.
Exhibit an execution by exsiccation of the most exuberant exiles.
Or am I the only one who's thirsty?
-
                                                      ­                      Who here is the ghost?
I know **** well it's not me.
                                                             ­                            Who said that?
I know I did.
                                                            ­                                        Didn't I?
Couldn't be.                                                              ­            
                                                    ­                                                    Am I?No.                                  
                         ­           Hopper, this isn't sinking in.
I am not a liar.
-
0111011101100101

011000010111001001100101

01101111011­100100110011101100001011011100110100101100011

011011010110000101­1000110110100001101001011011100110010101110011
-
I was supposed to be writing something down.
Some kind of secret; some kind of rune.
Can you help me find our primal core?
Your carnal truths are mine to keep.
Weren't you supposed to be going somewhere?
The flea burrow, no, The Doubling House.
For in those halls of mold and paper walls
your memories were uneagerly forged.
It's time to shed your summer skin
and begin to eat with your hands.

Battle of the two Giants
High noon announced the duel of the giants
Poetry and Hip Hop gunslinging the date was set
One accused the other of ****** the verbal world
As poetry sighted the words of Poe, hip hop did hurl
"Cant you rock these lame %$# words in slow
That dumb %&# Raven needs to be defeathered bro"
Poetry stood back and shook his hands down low
Reaching for his quilt using hip hop as ink he wrote
"The sound of silence is gold when you release your soul,
I need to feel the heartbeat of man so go!"
Hip hop now breakdancing on the floor
Laughed at this poor attempt to show poetrys gold
"You call that soul? I see it as a blind man,
Using fancy words to hide your fears so grand"
As poetry began to write another line
12:00 o clock came up as the sun did shine
Both stood back to back drawing their weapons
As the countdown to the duel approached like a new son
3 steps forward both rhymers turned about face
Two bangs later the smoke cleared both were embraced
The two giants knelt to ground their hearts did bleed
This time not of words but of blood so clean
At the same time both died as they killed each other
Why not write about how we are killing one another
Black vs White, hip hop vs poetry
Same old siht but this time its affecting me

/political correctness is a term used for people who have forgotten, near-archaic social formalities... oddly enough, social-formality is still obliterating political debate,  and is only existent, when met with political "dialectic"... since ancient Greece,  dialectics has been the enemy of politics, since it curbed the stampede of orchestrated, pristine, rhetoric... which is why politicians stutter, or mishandle... what was once a fact, has now become a statistic... which is... something you call: diluted ****, or diarrhoea...

political correctness?!
    what is "political"
about an ontological
focus of a priori
   social formalities?
   political correctness,
id est:
    satus quo prolongation?
as far as i know that
ship has sailed...
perhaps like the Titanic's
maiden voyage,
not blessed with a champagne
bottle christening...
a Kantian revival against
the Hegelian "dialectic"...
after all, he was the Copernicus
to what became the Marxist-
Galileo fiasco!
    if only Copernicus
became a martyr for looking
down the whirlpool of
a flushed toilet... who knows?!
*******... spaghetti
al fresco and Venitian blinds...
fatso mafiasos and
Marlon Brando dyslexia
due to cotton buds shoved
into his cheeks like
a ******* jerbal...
             gallows the schmuck,
hence came Zodiac Leo...
i'm actually apprehensive
about the fact that political
correctness is actually
an: apolitical statement...
seen that khaki attired king rat
scuttling about giving
shadow commands?!
me neither...
   but at least in a dictatorship...
some *******
doesn't have a choice,
but own up...
    illusion of the emperor's
new clothes...
you're right... the clothes
are rented...
   because there weren't any
to begin with!
   no wonder there's a shadow
spine to the "pristine"
idea of democracy...
chivaraly was also,
once upon a time, a novel idea
and an idea with a span of
history (ideology, vogue)...
      but came the undertaker
and buried that *******
with the maiden's hankerchief
he used as target practice for either
*****, or snot...
    political correctness is any ugly
term for what is otherwise
a root of social formality,
   laughable, even still...
  political correctness has no
a priori root to pivot on...
   political correctness attempts to
be a form of social formality,
but it's... kinda hard to
speak about an unspoken rule
that has been passed on
and is anti-political,
id est: intuitive... hardly the curious
child with a stick and a wasp hive...
      people feel unhinged...
no wonder!
        a social formality is within
the ontological a priori focus...
an inheritence that's silent...
but, politics, is never exactly
   an a priori focus...
              tinged with a posteriori
artifacts, it usually cites
Napoleon, ****** and Russia...
             to be "politically"
incorrect, is to what? what?!
                    momentarily relaxing
social formality?
                gender neutral pronouns
of the western world... ha ha!
a much older debate about
pronouns exists in the Slavic world...
made concise be the use of
the pronoun you...
     and of course,  i...
       which focuses on a loss of the title
herr und fraulein...
              ha ha...
told you that nag hammadi library
shepherd and pivotal St. Thomas' gospel
was going to be a hit...
              Chinese whispers in Judea...
the current... thrill of bi-cis-dunno...
doughnut?
    - only two people worth
admiring in the 20th century:
Lenon and Kennedy...
   the sort of people who true... fans!
i make a falsetto,
some Hannibal Lector will be
on my heels, thinking up
a ritual where, I'm actually eaten,
in a snippet of my body, akin
to the tender-bits of my liver...
   way to go... a sabbath encore
of those ***** ****-takes of beauty
Scotch banshees!
       fifth limb and the word: USURPER!
nope... make my tongue
into a ***- (yes, like
****** I might call the urban
of what is a renowned country's
worth of Billy, hence
the hyphen attaché)...

     whatever is politically correct
(mind you, german idealism,
rigidness of vocabulary,
only 3 definitions of a word
are utilised, the fourth
becomes a writers' scurvy
or a ***** tattoo in a thesaurus)...

whatever is politically "correct",
hence the ambiguity of -ness
is an orphan of both social
formality & informality...
who the **** would asked
for a political butcher,
let alone a member of parliament
take on a rabbi's son?!

nooooo....   oooooone....
       lovely,  ain't that
the pretty siht:
sight of a tightening
of a cravat prior to
the folded napkin in heavy cotton
before the state dinner...
minus the China and
the yardstick worth of... silverware...

came the ümlaut...  
the closing of the parabola...
the shy messiah...
the rollingpin of omicron,
the ******'s worth of omega.
   und?!
          ah...
    the siamese twins of H
in the tetragrammaton...
once a wave (W)...
     once a particle 3D (Y)...
jew counted matchsticks
   and read a book...
Pole has 1 to count,
       afro-boy has 20+ raps
for one gil scott-heron
  for every ****** factory
and for every if it came to:
this revolution, lardy lardy,
was televised...
now we're praying that it
could please! please! shut! up!
            
the toying with Greek and
a crucifix that became the tongue
of the golgotha-cranium?
   do the sons of light caste
a shadow?
       surely "we" read the light
from shadows...
   night, however...
is... without form....
        devoid of the triangle
and the square...
    the universe is ever expanding
is the closest they came to
giving it a geometry...
and then they finally settled on a:
linear proposition...
   came the "big" and the "bang"...
and then the, "supposed"
sparrow eater worth of vacuum...

there is an understanding
of social formality
  (a priori)
     as there is a knowledge
of social informality
      (a posteriori)...
    political "correctness":
a claim of being...
       politicians should learn this
mantra:
    to be politically "correct / incorrect"
is to be... apolitical...
   what?  
                just because
the church bred atheists...
a parliament can't breed apoliticians?
  granted...
     the parliament has a luxury
of a god on a string...
          and a suddenly materialised
"god"...
             the church is already a warm broth
of gurgling **** in the shadows...

for whatever the audacity of
youth apparent,
the fervour in me is hardly
as Dynamo for Alt.    
        in what remains an inherited
burgeon of power....
   than a plebiscite of gambling...

who speaks of political correctness
is only speaking of
a buffer zone to the ham trough...
yes, thank you,
I know there is no talk of
political correctness in the scenario
of a uniformed police officer
and me drinking a beer on a bench...
politicised bystanders...
****... me...
   can they flip and omelette like
a pancake?
        social formalities don't need
a stray dog's worth of tongue
to suddenly discover
the arithmetic of counting teeth!

Siht  si hgih dne  fo wol
my
life
intro
is
backwards
                                               Riffes
made          




of






Grief


let's keep it brief

No body gonna read into  your
                                                










tear apart eyes










No body gonna seal love










deal with thirsty lips


She said : isn't  love the only true ?
I said : For that  Love must be true

Shaking *****
In Djibouti
The things u do
In the line of Duty,
U too soft for this siht
Chicken lil
U a tooti-frooti.
We looting with the Somalian pirates
Then at night steal their *****,
Hand cuff their *** bk to UT
Kick him like the matrix
Then make him my btich like a *******
Doing lines
In the line of duty
Shooting stars
Leavin scars
Stabbing
Like the
Call of Duty.
Black ops & White cops
Busy setting souls free
Doing God's work
I believe by
Going On a *******
Killing spree.

i never felt such a terrible pain in my heart...
until: this very day... the 27th August 2021...
the pain was so strong i felt a heart-attack was
imminent... what else?!
did someone die... was a second Napoleon born?!
it truly felt like a labour of sorts:
circa 9pm: through to circa 10pm...
who has been born? my heart ached...
i blamed it on the excesses of alcohol consumption primo...
but i reminded myself:
when you cycle into London
you're bound to come back to the suburbs with
grit on your forehead... that same grit
you breathe in...

to hell with happiness!
   zu hölle mit fröhlichkeit!
if i were happy: loose my northern inhibitions...
lose my melancholic outlook on life
i'd loose all curiosity for life!
ich würde alles neugierde für leben!
i don't want to be happy: by happiness i'd stretch
a synonym: content &... oblivious...
i want to be tinged with a layer of sadness...
why oh why? why o why?!
i'm mortal: aren't i?!
i'm not here for an indefinite purpose like: A...
most definitely: that's THE point!
those camel jockeys of Dubai are happy...
but look how stupid they are...
thinking themselves immortal...
running dry the dinosaur-juice...
all the Pakistanis abhor the Arabs...
that the whole world congregated onto London
i'm laughing at myself:
so... where's the part where i walk across
the Thames? the whole world's here!
it might: just might... be a pinch of salt
on old wounds: anyone reviving the flight
of zeppelins? just saying... the whole world is here...
something spectacular is supposed to happen:
i can feel it...
me... i stopped a 20 mile cycle route to St. Paul's
for a black coffee... a *******: h'americano...
some sugar... a sly 50ml of whiskey i dropped like
a bomb... read a few pages of a book...
lazed... looked... lion-esque: copper-neck that
i am... these few months of the year...
that it's sad that i have to beef up writing in no
introspective: self-critical for some... assurance of:
well someone ought to love me...
if no one's willing: best do it myself...
but i'm still stretching it to the love of the english
zunge...
if the Turkish ******* thinks i'm Ing-leash...
i must be... living on the other side of "wall"...
where the Germans and German-esque tribes begin...
and where the Slavs... cornered the Huns
and the Mongols into Crimea...
i guess living among the Ing-Leash: am i?
the whole world is here...
i look the part... then again: if you have a Turkish
barber... and **** a Turkish ******* from time
to time... who wouldn't: "look, the, part"?
grr... this language... it's a second fetish...
my first fetish being: the ancient one...
since i scribble it... methodologically in a way
that proves that: i can't speak it...
perhaps i just troll it...
    since... old habits die hard... historical inheritance
doesn't... ******* Schvabs... Krzyżak...
but thank **** for that...
for a minute there i thought i was living in Germany...
which is so bothersome to think
of the English as... Germanic peoples...
for the first time in my life i'm having
trouble in thinking the English are...
very closely related to... zee Germans...
some etymological starting points...
but... they're not... they're... not?!
like an Australian isn't a... because of his...
newly invented accent?!
there's nothing more insufferable than
a H'american accent...
           sorry... can't be done in my ear:
to my ear: sounds like...
an elephant stepping onto a clarinet...
squashing it... then aiming with the *******
rather than the trunk to play it...
exclaiming: look! saxophone works!
its "****" (the accent's quality) might have
an appeal on a man in... Iraq... or... Ukraine...
i hear a woman speak with that accent i'm like:
guess who...
no... really... it's that sing-along... (the) guess who...

reason with me: o gods...
   for this is how i acknowledge you
acknowledging me!
whenever you send me a dream!
like Hamlet i too could:
be bounded to a nutshell: perhaps
even in a nutshell...
i have no concern for being
a king of infinite space:
   just give unto me my complete self
eternally bound:
changeless - forever stone upon
stone placed...
were it not for bad dreams?!
how about dreams at all!
i'm starving from a lack of dreams:
am i not ambitious enough
am i too common to be graced with
clues in the form of dreams?!
how one's day unfolds when
one can recollect a dream for
an hour in the morning!
i woke into this glorious day
having dreamt of being
given... about a dozen if not more
types of apples by a most
agreeable woman...
she sliced each apple into
quarters...
i dream so rarely that it has started
to bother me: insurmountably!
summer is finally coming to a close...
i anticipate September:
like each year: in this most glorious
of lands... a September's Indian Summer
in England...
as a joke: since the children are going
back to school...
glorious land...
immeasurable land of depth and hope...
agreed! ol' saxon met
a ******* Frenchman...
it flows more freely... never mind...
ol' cousin... neighbour of the continent...

who wouldn't want to love living among
the Ing-Leash...
i'd want to: i want to live among these people
so much that i don't want to live with my...
ugh... "******" genetically same...
cousins of the Polacks...
i'm tired of hearing about the second world war...
i'm tired of being someone lodged in between
the Germans and the Russians...
making middle ground with the.... Lithuanians...
the left-over Jews...
the Estonians: who?
the Romanians... Bulgarians...
the rest of the Yugoslavs...
to hell with huddling together to bring up some...
wait... wasn't communism first implied as...
hijacking the 19th century romance
of pan-Slavism...
pancake the Germans tribes together...
one will speak Dutch... the other the phlegm
of Flemish... the other...
Gall... and G'ah-Ul... stating: came the Romans
came Charlemagne...
elder scrolls with the Scandinavian roots...
i'll sooner pretend to be German than...
ha ha! ally myself with the ******* goat-*******
that the Russians are...

let's reimagine... an urban Pakistani
shop-owner... i'm so indistinguishable from him...
i'm almost gagging to ask him:
so... you're an anglophile?
i would ask the same question: thoroughly...
before the altar of the bereft would-be Jihadi wowing-rho-
rhinos...

perhaps a medley of lyrics in: alt schvabe might
aid my little project:
i'm content with sadness:
it allows me to reiterate...
long gone this past forever refreshed: arrived at:
rekindled:

nun erst lebe ich mir werde
       sit min sundic ouge siht...
das reine land und auch die erde

die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft...
   hey'ah hey'ah...
              so klingt uns seine kunde!

ich: halbherz...
          
             wir sind des Geyers schwarzen haufen..
hi-y'ah! ***!
und wollen mit tyrannem raufen; hi-yah: ah: **!
spieß voran, drauf und dran
               setztz auf klosterdach den roten hahn...

looking for angry young men:
perhaps also: ha-ha-ite?!

    not much fan of a Hamlet.... but please...
point me to the aisle where
Macbeth is sitting...

das reine land und auch die erde...
der man so viel der ehren giht...
mir is geschehen: worum ich stets bat...

Niemy człowiek...
niema mowa: gotów...
    
schöne länder ***** und herrlich...

perhaps the Ing-Leash don't moind...
to hell with the Ing-Leash...
they have their own...
African-bonanza to... mind...

among the Turkish prostitutes i look
English... among the English i look
H'American...
among the Germans i look:
Germany...
among my own folk i look...
i don't really care for my own genetically
****** folk...
hello Calypso...
               among the English...
come to think of it...
perhaps i spent too much time with
the Brits... with the Scots... the Welsh...
to care... what the supposed mainstream...
dictates?! aren't the Irish a separate / separatist
"plague" of people?

i just ask because... oh sure... me... local...
me local goes as far as...
ha ha ha: Cornwall! comfy retirement!
vide cor meum!
i'm here on a loan...
one can almost forget the Irish...
romancing the German tongue...
when one is pretending it to come out...
"it": post-Germanic... Saxophone-Pomeranian...
best felt choke joke among the Celts..
yo... Yuri... Gaga... the Brit?
Ing... so.. no IRA leash?
because... the Welsh... oh... right... they still
keep their tongue... no?

on these isles... one tends to...
forget... the anglo-saxon ambivalence
of: strutting it straight: yo...
this peudo-first: Berliner....
                   scoop up the Scots & call 'em
baron.

i never felt such a terrible pain in my heart...
until: this very day... the 27th August 2021...
the pain was so strong i felt a heart-attack was
imminent... what else?!
did someone die... was a second Napoleon born?!
it truly felt like a labour of sorts:
circa 9pm: through to circa 10pm...
who has been born? my heart ached...
i blamed it on the excesses of alcohol consumption primo...
but i reminded myself:
when you cycle into London
you're bound to come back to the suburbs with
grit on your forehead... that same grit
you breathe in...

to hell with happiness!
   zu hölle mit fröhlichkeit!
if i were happy: loose my northern inhibitions...
lose my melancholic outlook on life
i'd loose all curiosity for life!
ich würde alles neugierde für leben!
i don't want to be happy: by happiness i'd stretch
a synonym: content &... oblivious...
i want to be tinged with a layer of sadness...
why oh why? why o why?!
i'm mortal: aren't i?!
i'm not here for an indefinite purpose like: A...
most definitely: that's THE point!
those camel jockeys of Dubai are happy...
but look how stupid they are...
thinking themselves immortal...
running dry the dinosaur-juice...
all the Pakistanis abhor the Arabs...
that the whole world congregated onto London
i'm laughing at myself:
so... where's the part where i walk across
the Thames? the whole world's here!
it might: just might... be a pinch of salt
on old wounds: anyone reviving the flight
of zeppelins? just saying... the whole world is here...
something spectacular is supposed to happen:
i can feel it...
me... i stopped a 20 mile cycle route to St. Paul's
for a black coffee... a *******: h'americano...
some sugar... a sly 50ml of whiskey i dropped like
a bomb... read a few pages of a book...
lazed... looked... lion-esque: copper-neck that
i am... these few months of the year...
that it's sad that i have to beef up writing in no
introspective: self-critical for some... assurance of:
well someone ought to love me...
if no one's willing: best do it myself...
but i'm still stretching it to the love of the english
zunge...
if the Turkish ******* thinks i'm Ing-leash...
i must be... living on the other side of "wall"...
where the Germans and German-esque tribes begin...
and where the Slavs... cornered the Huns
and the Mongols into Crimea...
i guess living among the Ing-Leash: am i?
the whole world is here...
i look the part... then again: if you have a Turkish
barber... and **** a Turkish ******* from time
to time... who wouldn't: "look, the, part"?
grr... this language... it's a second fetish...
my first fetish being: the ancient one...
since i scribble it... methodologically in a way
that proves that: i can't speak it...
perhaps i just troll it...
    since... old habits die hard... historical inheritance
doesn't... ******* Schvabs... Krzyżak...
but thank **** for that...
for a minute there i thought i was living in Germany...
which is so bothersome to think
of the English as... Germanic peoples...
for the first time in my life i'm having
trouble in thinking the English are...
very closely related to... zee Germans...
some etymological starting points...
but... they're not... they're... not?!
like an Australian isn't a... because of his...
newly invented accent?!
there's nothing more insufferable than
a H'american accent...
           sorry... can't be done in my ear:
to my ear: sounds like...
an elephant stepping onto a clarinet...
squashing it... then aiming with the *******
rather than the trunk to play it...
exclaiming: look! saxophone works!
its "****" (the accent's quality) might have
an appeal on a man in... Iraq... or... Ukraine...
i hear a woman speak with that accent i'm like:
guess who...
no... really... it's that sing-along... (the) guess who...

reason with me: o gods...
   for this is how i acknowledge you
acknowledging me!
whenever you send me a dream!
like Hamlet i too could:
be bounded to a nutshell: perhaps
even in a nutshell...
i have no concern for being
a king of infinite space:
   just give unto me my complete self
eternally bound:
changeless - forever stone upon
stone placed...
were it not for bad dreams?!
how about dreams at all!
i'm starving from a lack of dreams:
am i not ambitious enough
am i too common to be graced with
clues in the form of dreams?!
how one's day unfolds when
one can recollect a dream for
an hour in the morning!
i woke into this glorious day
having dreamt of being
given... about a dozen if not more
types of apples by a most
agreeable woman...
she sliced each apple into
quarters...
i dream so rarely that it has started
to bother me: insurmountably!
summer is finally coming to a close...
i anticipate September:
like each year: in this most glorious
of lands... a September's Indian Summer
in England...
as a joke: since the children are going
back to school...
glorious land...
immeasurable land of depth and hope...
agreed! ol' saxon met
a ******* Frenchman...
it flows more freely... never mind...
ol' cousin... neighbour of the continent...

who wouldn't want to love living among
the Ing-Leash...
i'd want to: i want to live among these people
so much that i don't want to live with my...
ugh... "******" genetically same...
cousins of the Polacks...
i'm tired of hearing about the second world war...
i'm tired of being someone lodged in between
the Germans and the Russians...
making middle ground with the.... Lithuanians...
the left-over Jews...
the Estonians: who?
the Romanians... Bulgarians...
the rest of the Yugoslavs...
to hell with huddling together to bring up some...
wait... wasn't communism first implied as...
hijacking the 19th century romance
of pan-Slavism...
pancake the Germans tribes together...
one will speak Dutch... the other the phlegm
of Flemish... the other...
Gall... and G'ah-Ul... stating: came the Romans
came Charlemagne...
elder scrolls with the Scandinavian roots...
i'll sooner pretend to be German than...
ha ha! ally myself with the ******* goat-*******
that the Russians are...

let's reimagine... an urban Pakistani
shop-owner... i'm so indistinguishable from him...
i'm almost gagging to ask him:
so... you're an anglophile?
i would ask the same question: thoroughly...
before the altar of the bereft would-be Jihadi wowing-rho-
rhinos...

perhaps a medley of lyrics in: alt schvabe might
aid my little project:
i'm content with sadness:
it allows me to reiterate...
long gone this past forever refreshed: arrived at:
rekindled:

nun erst lebe ich mir werde
       sit min sundic ouge siht...
das reine land und auch die erde

die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft...
   hey'ah hey'ah...
              so klingt uns seine kunde!

ich: halbherz...
          
             wir sind des Geyers schwarzen haufen..
hi-y'ah! ***!
und wollen mit tyrannem raufen; hi-yah: ah: **!
spieß voran, drauf und dran
               setztz auf klosterdach den roten hahn...

looking for angry young men:
perhaps also: ha-ha-ite?!

    not much fan of a Hamlet.... but please...
point me to the aisle where
Macbeth is sitting...

das reine land und auch die erde...
der man so viel der ehren giht...
mir is geschehen: worum ich stets bat...

Niemy człowiek...
niema mowa: gotów...
    
schöne länder ***** und herrlich...

perhaps the Ing-Leash don't moind...
to hell with the Ing-Leash...
they have their own...
African-bonanza to... mind...

among the Turkish prostitutes i look
English... among the English i look
H'American...
among the Germans i look:
Germany...
among my own folk i look...
i don't really care for my own genetically
****** folk...
hello Calypso...
               among the English...
come to think of it...
perhaps i spent too much time with
the Brits... with the Scots... the Welsh...
to care... what the supposed mainstream...
dictates?! aren't the Irish a separate / separatist
"plague" of people?

i just ask because... oh sure... me... local...
me local goes as far as...
ha ha ha: Cornwall! comfy retirement!
vide cor meum!
i'm here on a loan...
one can almost forget the Irish...
romancing the German tongue...
when one is pretending it to come out...
"it": post-Germanic... Saxophone-Pomeranian...
best felt choke joke among the Celts..
yo... Yuri... Gaga... the Brit?
Ing... so.. no IRA leash?
because... the Welsh... oh... right... they still
keep their tongue... no?

on these isles... one tends to...
forget... the anglo-saxon ambivalence
of: strutting it straight: yo...
this peudo-first: Berliner....
                   scoop up the Scots & call 'em
baron.