I shared with him my plot to save our skinz

"I think I em beginning to understand myself"
i say to him

He gives me a look of

"here dis ***** go again"
he indulges me

I go on and tell him

"What if I destroyed the white race by having *** with every white man"
"A way to reclaim my masculinity is to steal it back from the ones who stole me"

My ***** hang low when I remember that I am surviving as a ***** with no testosterone.

.all in all: pro bono persona non grata... but it's nice... the dodo of excavations because douglas murray citing t. s. eliot... is... such a pristine... welcome... caveat; it's such a stark-naked revisionism of the concept of pink... outside and beside having scotch-notching of the bristle... this... fidget and all that's the forever the anglo-sphere of solispism... the unsavoury redeemer of europe... napoleon (1)... ****** (2)...     the pauper states and the ottomans... take... three? hell! when england is fidgety about being an island dwelling folk (in europe) and a "diaspora" when something a bit like... h'america and australia... comes along... the best gay is the old gay is the no-new gay and the no-old... and gay... the 5pm stubble intellectualism... hot and bothered given there's not grand admiration for an ethics without a joy-ride of an expelled peoples... that the future is: having made... a people... local! for those being made to make digestion: focal... and immoveable... pawn strictures... post racial and thereby new scrutiny: grammar... or... lah blah l'ay lo bo'go'h zupp'ah crispy ****** ****** fue fue and few! this the "neuweil"...

     it's snooker and not chess...
and because snooker can
be televised...
    in that it's not a private affair
of "i.q." strain of a sudoku...
it's still purely optics...

   red = 1
             yellow = 2...
                   even if the pawn
were to = 1...
       you can't fathom the affair
with 3rd party spectactors without
a necessary lagging...

but it's a televized sport...
but it's unlike bayern munich
trashing barcelona 8 - 2...

          there's that theatre of
red is 1...
        all gyst of what remains
the doctrine of spheres...
      perhaps the pawn = 1 = red...
the blanket...

the metaphor of... the cue ball...
like a lion or any other
predator picking out the lazy
angle the weak pack of the herd...

        how doesn't one welcome
a sport of such befitting attire...
savile row -esque rummaging
to tie with a librarian monstrosity...

it's so much easier to stomach:
all spheres...
   the vast confines of limbo green
of what's pitch-black
vacuum of space and eternal
glue fabric of the orbs...

         now agitated in a sneaking
parody of bulldozer
a cue-ball an asteroid...
a football match
with so much fervor...
the chanting, the shirts...
the agony of the whole affair...

   never the stressed individual...
in a sport so much talk of
fluke and chance and: the gods
of snooker... oh indeed:
the gods still watch snooker...
chess is too much noir et blanc...

   snooker is a...
           why so much of everything
has to be wrong with love
in what's wrong with love
to begin with:
the idealism of males invested
in the project under
the pseudonym: stendhal...

          then there's the other comparison:
if snooker is not chess
then... perhaps it's... boxing?
such a brute sport...
it's bothersome enough to be eating
a diet of beef and tenderloin
poultry hearts in a broth...
to have to entertain the brutality
of boxing...

   i watch snooker i envision
myself coughing into a napkin...
i imagine... fencing...
another great expansion of sport...
selective sport
that's still somehow physical...
unlike chess because chess...
is not to be televized...

                   oh truly: these favourable
ideals of hot-topics for poets...
the ideal love...
"you" the "ideal" and "lover"...
never the one potting
a perfect 147 jerking off...
i tried myself with prostitutes...
it's a harsh reality
when both parties are playing
a poker of pretend...

   snooker is unlike any other sport...
to boast to blame to glisten
and to subsequently **** a suffocating
throttle of an exercise in...
agitation... whimsical! whimsical:
i dare you! please!

    it's unlike a football match...
       golf can **** my big toe xerxes...
the contraints...
i once anticipated this meditation
with tennis...
a game of... moon...
and... 7 rectangles and...
          the umpire and...
                        10 judges...
and... 4 ball-boys...
                             tired sport of
professional fluidity...
    
                         to appreciate is best
to not play it...
from the t.v. with nostalgia...
an itch a view of a
famous onlooker...
   none other than
the iron maiden drummer
    at the sheffield crucible...
                     nicko mcbrain...

yes: me right now...
a matthew arnold take on seeing
liszt play and all the girls
having reached beatlemania fever pitch...
d.n.a. score...
it usually took two to tango...
i don't like the idea
of the man being burdened
with a d.n.a. progression
of "passing-on"... the... "details"...

              i'm very content taking
the solo walk home...
because... come to think of it...
i am not impressed with the arguments
to counter my: will...
i'm not willing to make either
sacrifice or sacrilege...
                        i'm more than willing
for the entire lazy abode to jump
in on early on the nibbling prospect...
not out of: some high-praise of self-worth...

what would we be talking about...
had i not the capacity to take
snooker to sleep...
   and i was a east-end
millwall "hooligan" cabbie...
                   it's snooker...
it's not woah-kitty science... is it?

too much of perfect love went
into writing - perhaps a toll of mine -
and not into the exploits of
the day-to-day living out the grit...

tolling losing affairs with
english like the long lost cousin
of a bavarian misantrophe...
should there come an ease!
with a entymological scrutiny...
idiosyncratic as that old
borrowed & blatant saxon...

   fudge-packers of the world unite!
the broad and the default...
the skittle blisters of skim-rhetoric...
the lobsided slob...
beginning with etymological
genesis:
                  fudge-packing
           fudge-packing
                 either side
of the propaganda machinery... glut...
no glue! all the glut but no glue!
fudge-packaging:
the beside "question" of...
              a straight banana
                                 syndrome...
because: no new "wonder" analogy...
            beside "that" one...
                                  
   to be humbled is not, to be...
humiliated...
   how can... the tolerance
of humbling being made
synonym of being a meaning
of humilitiation?!
*******! asylum!
   proto-****-sane-"metaphysician"!

to abhor liberals is to somehow love
homosexuals...
to test the competency
the phallus
in competition the joy-*****...
           and such that...
there's no new morality...
only the old europe
with the europe
of the "rejected" yews...

clear-me-up-on-the-kippah:
forthright on the ***...
no new shlang...
    this... archaic... this...

primordial ****... and never...
the proxy bilingual...
you... basic... ****-wit and...
  comma!

   and... the gay-"dude"...
the argument...
the boxing females...
and the still intact...
***** industry...
   like... carpentry with
carpet tiers...
like...
    **** with stink...
like... metal with... ore
and... rust...
like: forget me whips...
and i'll flake you another; boss stephens!

to have to stiffen-up
over a... this logistics of gloating...
the west gloats...
a history of gloating...
whether the mongolian recession...
of the soviet nudging death-queue...
gloat... the ******* feeds off gloating...
i'm tired of gloating...
given... after a while...
there's no more a winning
or a losing: gloat
or party to feed off...
a supposed serenity of...
an otherwise...
nihlism & *******!

- you ******* ginger-bread flims!
finicky bypassing wording...
           ein-grab-beste-"oops"-

and thus: the name horowitz...
barking...
          ottoman....
    rotherham...
   ­           roam-befitting: "future"...
          there's the closure
with upmister...
            the the blessing...
all creasing with copper-skinz...

ONREPEATZ... ONREPEATZ...
same old replica...
           towing the jew
in a spiderweb...
like a gravitational pull
toward a moth and
scuttling h'americana

  best be broken h'americana
cain chess of the limbo
continental...
                 abel my abel...
my liquidating sod...

                      it was never to be
a prized event;
of good... to have cleaved one
to a momentum...
god.... the usual bollocking riddle.

i could write about... how i "trapped" a cat in
my bedroom...
kept the window open... and two mosquitos flew
in...
i would be a sadist... if i had a mythical
tarantula scuttling around the room...
but two mosquitos and a cat...
                that's just a tease...
                  it's not like i once fed two rainbow
trout eyes to this... no... the other cat...
or how i pinched a mosquito by the leg...
and... this... no... the other cat...
gladly gobbled it down...
            after all... i once looked at a spider
scuttle to a freshly painted surface and...
i guess he started drinking it...
          in an absence of retelling the story
of the 1960s and all the drugs...
the catholic school curriculum sentenced us...
to the remote part of the decaying
soviet empire - somewhere in ukraine -
we were warned about... sniffing glue...
and aerosol abuse...
             no mention of l.s.d. or: the rest
of the rainbow...
        but this is not part of the experiment...
i had a while sitting watching the moon...
yesterday's fullness and quicksilver flooding
the stones, the lipid of leaves...
        the metals... all that was missing...
frost... to elevate the quicksilver into
a red carbet walkdown... with that...
very familiar... paparazzi epileptic "flashing"
as the head twould tilt from one aspect
to the next... as the light contorted...

yes yes... the experiment...
to write! to write! what people want!
it's going to be hard...
i guess i'd do it... if i was paid...
  but i'll try... read up some pop pieces and
see if i can fake it, sly fox moi:
stealth myself beneath the gaydar...
and frown at myself... stand stark naked...
this masquerade is but a drop in the already
available ocean of masquerades...
i even thought about dressing up
for halloween for next year...
         me: april 2020...
                     lucky for me i have a face-mask
that doesn't details anything surgical
about it... more like... scorpion / sub-zero
from mortal kombat...
    problem: this beard doesn't help...
i can hijack two bottles of jim beam...
but...                     rat rat rat tat tat...
tic tac toe in a maze of: death's yawn...
             last chance trap: write what people want...
what's easily a digestive biscuit...
no fibre no grit...
                 hell... no point disguising my soon
to be disclosed efforts:
to write what people might like...

       under a pseudonym: anonymous?
generic stuff... but the quest to spot the generic
from the sly authentic...
will prove much harder...

for all the purveyors and connoisseur...
well... not much of the latter
concerning "low view count"...
who is playing this numbers game...
well... those who cite weight loss
via stones and pounds...
if you go down the metric route...
kilograms...
once upon a time... remarkable...
from 101kg down to 78kg...
and no strech-marks...
because... the bicycle because the bicycle...
and some swimming...
toning: exercise but more
the desire to gamble with traffic...
and the wind in your face...

    nothing as suffocating as a gym...
low life - *******... views? 945...
     that's... well... kingdom of the *****...
the kingdom of the crustaceans...
anything in the 100,000 view count is probably
atlantis: humanoid fish replicas
of both fish and man... mermaid and that
meme: top of a fish bottom of a woman...
versus: the obvious choice...

to write: what people want...
harlequin novels?
                    heavy on the rhyme...
rhyme like... kicking a ball against a wall...
superstious amalgamations of echo...
crisp bite into deep-fried stuff...
chewing like an attempt to find imitations
in sawing through wood...
not the sort of incision we'd be looking
for... more like a mutilation of wretched
muscle, bone and sinew...
by hyenas woken from slumber
by a wake of vultures...

   vultures in a group: is a kettle (when in flight)
                                    is a committee (when perched)
                                  is a wake (when feeding)...
perhaps i'm thinking about stealing
the eagle from the romans...
and the crow from the germans...
perhaps... just because... these caron barons
of the bald patch...
   leather monuments of skin's flagelation
                      their crown...
that sort of birth: i have in sight...

but no... it's not exactly a haiku...
it's... an astouding breath of sawdust air...
something to be sniffed when the dust doesn't
settle in the quarry from when
hammer meets the ***** of the incubating
earth of stone...
sand: add pressure... have rock...
ad more pressure: have ore of metal...
consecrate the bones...
             place them inconveniently into
envelopes of addressed: aeons...

but to write what people want... "like"...
i'd have to sift through...
stomach... the commets...
it's so discouraging to entertain these...
bothersome flies...
bought a book... pretended to scribble
on the back of the cover...
the author was nowhere to be seen...
or heard from...

               comments likes: metaphors! beautiful!
thank you!
  blah blah to no end of an etc.
i guess: no point writing anything that...
doesn't escape into the realm of thought...
i try to conjure up something in writing that
would make someone write a comment...
             i like an audience that knows it deserves more
than to pander me...
and i need of it... stitched up lips...
   since all of this: for gratis...
                        no browny points to create
echo chambers and niches...
of the "protected" penship...

  that doesn't imply that i don't want to write
an imitation poem...
without obvious plagiarism...
i just need to find that most melodramatic me...
the cheapest version of me...
i have to imagine myself *******...
what i'll be ******* i'm not exactly sure...
it won't be the words...
the rhymes...
           lack of! god, please! a lack of!
less rhyme more chance to spot beauty
elsewhere... an ****** festival of flowers
with near perfect geometrical replicas...

          is it possible that i care much more
for the anonymity of the reader?
am i like a guilty pleasure...
watching some 1970s italian *******...
eating a bagel with either:
    (a) smoked salmon, cucumber, mayo...
   dill... and that all important rainbow trout caviar?
or be (b) being sloppy... but still the caviar...
and the bagel... and instead:
some tuna and sweetcorn and mayo?

perhaps (c)... jack johnson was the best kept
secret... until he was given things beyond his audience...
and... no jack johnson after he was compared
to be the next bob dylan...
i'm sorry... how was that ever going to happen?
you'd have to like bob dylan in the first place...
and that's not easy...
you'd have to start liking him...
like i did... on an overnight train from
st. petersburg to moscow... to see metallica
play there for the very first time after...
rioting... famously... when: and justice for all...
harvester of sorrow...
and the crowd went mental...
                                       the rest is: history...

if all it took was a car to road-rage across
h'america... it truly requires a train to...
                                            get a thrill for russia...
other places require you walking:
holland...
            since everyone else is cycling to beijing...
and other place require you to cycle... poland...
england... france... i guess germany...
well... plucking one of your eyes out...
and asking a crow to safeguard your soul...
while you would be able to attach a little
camera to its body... that sort of *******...

is caviar a luxury?
          a concentrated fish-oil in a capsule...
it's hardly a chicken egg "luxury"...
nor quiet the abortion...
replicas? those vitamin d capsules...
fish-oil... luxury? depends on whether you enjoy
it... pompous foodstuff:
no need to call the: healthy body = healthy mind
brigade... no slightly pickled brain...
then no inquisitive palette...
i rank baltic herrings among them...
raw... baltic sushi... in a creamy sauce...
or a steak tartar(e)... with... all the trimmings...
the raw yoke... the raw: onion...
gherkins, capers, etc etc.

                    some people... just frown at the idea
of caviar... not to mention blue cheese
and oysters...
   and to think... oysters where the grub
of "gammon" in Dickensian times...
   since then... even gammon was morphed...
"back in the day" it wasn't a racial slur
as much as it was actually more:
******* and... swindler... con-artist ref....
the pickwick papers blah blah... blah...
            only now... oysters... wow! a... luxury!
only if you enjoy eating them...
otherwise? overpriced dogshit...

        i'll concede this point... the version of
existentialism in english... what was started by
the danes and the germans and the russians...
later implemented by the fwench...
english existentialism?
stastistics... psychology... and this...
world of darwin... and the atlas?
blind samson holding yet pulling the pillars
down...
this is anglophonic existentialism...
no gravitation toward: ontology on the grounds
of temporal affairs...
no gravitation toward: ontology on
the grounds of spatial affairs -
  english existentialism: oi! pass the torch, mate!
n'ah mate... we're sending this torch
back in time... to tribal invaders
and our hyper-sensitive exoskeleton
"souls" of hybrid -
the body is both a host and the parasite...
lest we forget the psychiatric evaluation
surgery of the holy trinity of freud...

or far further... krafft von ebbig:
******* was cynical back when
******* was a taboo and ****** for crucifixes:
looks like being aborted was:
rainbow-tinged: as was: this time soon...
why do i like wearing "p.p.e." equipment
akin to face-masks?
finally! i can compete with the islamic
attire of the niqab!
i can finally: bark cat! i can finally:
meow dog! - with less restrictions for
the eyes... ninja brigade: scorpio vs. sub-zero...
it really is the new normal...
now i can think about all the lost
****** recognition technology:
while i pillage... **** and assume:
laughter the new paracetmol...

slaughterhouse gown: a slithering tongue
of a chewed of proposal...
                 nothing like caging time in
bedroom antics of a cult personna of a german
lutheran... who wasn't...
that catholic ***** and a sobering up after
a prince albert antic...
                       gullotine for the slug of: fore!
i says: skinz...
                      skinz and skalpz...
alt.: skinß und skalpß...
                                         otherwise known as:
a steady diet of influenza and toss-***...
back in poland come the fall of
the iron wall...
a tight-knit commuity...
one of us was infected with ospa (smallpox)...
we were exposed to the infected...
and czerwonka (červonka)
                          dysentery...
i missed the measles... (odra)...
                     my immune system was not
exposed to it...
              i guess i'm living in times when...
bubblewrapping works...
                     prime-time "eugenics" of the post-soviet
empire... expose them to... the golden standard...
and if they survive...
god... an ear infection is about as much
of a trivial-***** pain as a toothache...

poland in the 1990s... like mongolia in the 1200s
or whenever those people were given
the scurge of wrath loose buckle of the belt...
that was then... this is nowhere new to now...
happens... when people read
two books like dogma...
1984 fetish and all those televangelist...
no new rats: no room left in the maze...

                 karen oi oi smithy loiters...
scraps the details of her meme haircut...
starts to bleach her *****...
          etc. etc.         and more etc.
                           well... so much for this... supposed...
would be experiment in: "sowering the grapes"...
hardly... where is the wrath and the horse...
required for the plough?!

how unfathomable to be unable to listen
to new music...
              i sit and want to rearrange
bob kaufman's poem
  o-jazz-o war memoir: jazz...

      samsung + google chrome
doesn't like bitchute...
   i have been unable to watch a video
of weeks...

lenovo + google chrome
doesn't mind bitchute...
         well... it's not terribly important...
i have installed pale moon
but i'm being terrible lazy
and... i'd only invest in a VPN
to get masterchef australia (.au)
                     recipes...
                  i can mash up: punk
a steam-roller forward...
   it's not necessary...

but i will not rearrange that bob kaufman
poem...
           a little bit of rereading
the brautigan sonnets...
honest to god:
   when knausgård finally came...
i was relieved from having
to shove my eyes my tongue
my brain my: casually automaton
not-thinking
    away from american poetics...

i aspire to return to:
the i, maximus poems...
         because i've been a good boy
and i didn't visit the brothel
because even at 34...
well... you just tire of ***
because so many others seem
to have progressed to the higher
acts... protagonists in b.d.s.m.
role-playing... candy-torture...
something? opaque?

the book is dear... nearing 40 quid a pop...
i will only make
peace with american poetry on
the promise of reading the maximus oeuvre
(i have to insert the name,
like a junction - delight in calling
it the M25 around the home counties -
the bloated A406 teasing Ilford:
orson... ****... not welles...
charles olson!)

    acronyms in the vocab or...
dropping names... voluntary work...
departed and death's hyphenation:
assured - by - a designated project...
it's not a thought-out complexity...
it... either rains... or it shines...
it's either a night with a lonely
dog barking... or... it's a silent night...
perhaps a cricket... or some far away
cushion of traffic monotone humming:

like a refrigerator: the avant garde
of music: white noise...
but always the welcome wind...
either the earth's yawn...
  or the cavern solid depth of ****...
which is... not the passing of wind:
but... luck... in a more... eastern tongue...
teasing the geography of
little moscow i.e.: minsk...

well of course nothing spectacular
is happening...
beside reading a newspaper in
the morning... a few essays in the afternoon...
sitting and contemplating:
a platonism of homosexuality...
at home... teased by genitals...
as from an early age...
when a foreign body fiddled with
my possessions... a toy...
but now... a 60 year old craftsman...
perfectionist...
   a plumber but most necessarily: irish...

what's in english TH and in greek Θ
is also F            and also: alTHough...
                                   is also THat
             is also THorough...
is a surd isn't a surd...
          is -gh deaf...
                                   etc.
          irish? well... t'ought...
                                   t'is...
                  t'ou(gh)t...
                       target tatties: bomb-zickle-bomb-zarch...

such a loaded word: ****-eroticism and
platonism:  bias for commeradry
because there's a higher tier
of friends with "benefits"

          it's a terrible tango this very tease
of greasing a gauge:
time flows through the impersonal squadron
of perchance...
      
as ever: there comes a moment of
completing disbelief:
       in what makes one churn
the advent of the democratic voice...
put simply: i don't believe what i'm writing...
nietzsche is forever only a teenager
fanboy...
          how anyone could get away with
that sort of: sorrow of my own
inability to loot a blank...

                 if this was written
with a conviction in fwench or spanish...
a distant russian...
but it's only a tourist english of some
****** immigrant...
             i should somehow will myself
to write in mutterzuerst:
             zunge von tod... a chicago glamour
glistening in my mind...
h'america can capsize and retain its
20th century's mythological "geography"...
  and "history"...

i don't think the eyes would be of any use
when seeing anything anything more
than the letters and later the words
and later the sentences of noting
the hebrew junction...
         i'd like the literal fetish...
because a literal reading would allow me
to focus on dreaming up the impossible...
not reading the ol' bib'complica-ca'tion
into a poetry exhaustion of:
metaphor and the philosopher's stone...

the guitar lick of sowing the solo...
invitation to giving diacritical stressors...
whereby rhythm is noun...
whereby rhythm is sentence: judge jury
and executioner...
    
to drink! it's all about drinking and not
******* your pants...
it's about the mea culpa and
shooting yourself in the foot... or not...
i'd love to make william burrough's narrative
into a ******...
although i much disagree to
the detail of the life behind the sacred
pax of jeez and juicy juicy dorothy...

lullaby or an alibi...
       lullaby or an alibi... much contested:
of the satellites of the soviet
picturesque: because there's only
genius to work with around
the culmination of events...
for all that's recurrent of the 20th counting
nil and the flowering feud of
the "most"...

                  such a pressure to
somehow find some variation of "anew"...
for the best in poetry... the h'americans
siding with...
the iron curtain and now the silicon
curtain and the lessened tensions
of a: would-be-bomb...

            mr. clear stick figure of:
the oppenheimer...
        who was hardly a pope or a bishop
and there was never a reconquista
of such loot...
   but this current inversion
               of pennies from niqab:
and there could only be an unfathomable
triad - snot, phlegm and salt...
i find myself suffocating to
transcend while the metaphysical
ogling of an oasis...
contesting with sardines...
an antithesis claustrophobia...

               borrowing scent and the pristine
mini-skid-alongs of
churning umbrellas into skirts...
and all those cliches:
best to forget the existence
of the mind... better to reflect...
on the banjo and some walter skinz:
   or... herr im schwarz...
that best ******* of a german
forgotten "soon" with no inclined
to a borrowing of a son...

had i written the most spectacular freefall
bonanza... lucifer loots out
all other useful nouns on the dole...
there must be a boa architect and a
familiarisation with choking
on a peanut...

               best pleasing a hinterland of:
impromptu...
these khaki shoes these khaki shirts...
these mustard green trousers...

             it's impossible to write when one
is still a s schoolboy with a robert pinksky
attention to detail:
pauper... european...
the myth of and if... someone should
keep a calendar denying the sun...
that the moon can also shape itself
toward a frigid

that there's a mongol and he's
not a chinese or a thai or a japanese
culinary invitation...
that i somehow have to tattoo my mind
with such details...
because my skin is best sacred
by not being "scarred" by idiosyncratic
details of SE664397B...

the currency of youth in england
is still composed of a "memory" of Hastings...
such an inglorious battle...
given the norman archers...
and the tumbleweed of flesh of the saxon
protectorate desiring a towing
of a downward ***** of:
the confessor's epiphany...

  dear edward dear little england...
prior to ambitions of empire...
and that zenith...
dickens... jack the ripper...
jester jane... mr hyde...
   it's like... shakespeare is no necessary
rubric: 2 + 2 = 4 new yorker
sauvage...
                              
it's such a currency of suffocation
to have to tow... a height...
the variation of stink....
               a broken bone...
squeezing a delight...
             a marrow juicing of a rattling of
bone...
       procreative on the strategy
of instigating chimes:
variations of skinning wind teasing...
        
my my... it all looks just as plentiful and
as about right... as the currency
invested in a slavic discoteque...

            slaves the partner to
the germs; on high minded peoples
are the hybrids of a sa xony:
modulated to an export..
and an island home...
                 riddle with a homage
to having encountered an ancient:
    "amore" and "psyche":
                       belittling this quest
for taming haggis afghanistan.

HAZE HER - an all female...
pretend... football league sq...
gets a happy sancho ****-virulence
of "hope"... stages a ****...
the group accepts the "nuance"...
the media subsequently deals with
the wound and some maggot...
festering...
i grieve for the 19th century romance...
when... and... where...
women could be adored...
rather than abhorred...
as these... butchers' off-cut sludge...
and slices...
these: me no toy not 'appy...
'appier in bangkok kwing...
   und a lesser queer...

       procrastinating over
fraternity videos...
            because... i am... a sadist...
but because this requires a sadism...
i also have to watch these videos
as a *******...
that famous plumber!
that famous... the "fiction" of fame...
as one... that assures one a permanent
check-mark of continued work...
it's not an Elvis fame...
it's not... rising **** of the new
yearning *****...
it's not a fraternity side-project of;
all are inclusive in...
a game of shame...

    i once enjoyed 1970s *****
cinema... monica rocccaforte style
italian flicks...
    ava lauren ***
         shyla stylez... follow through:
grown attires a ****** readied
exclusivity...
but... what i'm seeing?
that's just ******* base... crude...
juvenilia inc.
              a specctacle
of a suffocating sparrow:
to aid the progress of science...
like ego is the holier than thou
makeshift pilgrimage & pilgrim...
as the dust settles...

the scent of watermelon and of strawberries...
******* with sorority pledges is...
if one could... wish for...
the concept of *******...
and... the delight in teasing a glug
of an oyster... one would... always...
shy with a hope for...
an arabic sensibility...
but one never does...
       one always expects...
russians in afghanistan...
and a miracle of iran to counter...
the ottoman plebs...
given their byzantine inheritance... etc.

one of those impossible tasks
of jerking off while drunk...
with an impeding "hangover" of...
a... "delight"...
in how... ******* can feel...
synonymously akin to scalping /
extracting the *** from new yorkie...
the kippah from
a bar mitzvah...
         a pleasure from an agony...
a pair of eyes from a niqab toll
of *******...
a toothless:
      toothless bake relief...
       a nugget... a toothpick woo..
  watching agony ****
that's not italian 1970s classic...
it's not this belgian sour fetish...
it's this crude: women also play
soccer and toy with game-think...

           it was ****... whenever it wasn't...
and it wasn't... ever...
you can disguise a drunk with a *****
and a pair of *******...
but a drunk impregnate-
              sapphire: blue orb or:
orc stipend...
   which revels in turning chartreuse
into a moss ****** and...
itch...
           that's how i party...
a colour is beside a mere identifiable
word... it's also a sensation...
which... colour can muster...

******* of the sheiks' limbo...
what are these martyrs' promised?
can't they... "somehow" satisfy themselves
with what can already be given...
weißhuren: beruhigendzerbrechlich...

nein mehr meine mutter:
        tod die mutter von alles!

what are these presumptions these assumptions
these decadent dubai posits of camel jockey bribes?!
******* indolent question...
cold warsaw slab.... the farao island "gills"...


festmahl von freur!
                    hören der wind!
conceive a flemish inquiry with
anatomy to mind...
                     ich bitten die meer...
                             pflege für mich...
alt-mutter-meer...
              
                    schoß von und walfisch!
a bangladeshi will cite:
camel jockey and sand-******...

white *******...
      i don't have the heart...
to juice on the hex...
                        
sport akin to *** is for the "uglies"...
as a man... unfathomable...
because "******"...
and the "inconvenience" of
baking... leotard game of gym / ballet...
covert homosexuality...
the whole biological female... ***...
orientation... bypass... wizard of oz...
no thanks... menopause...
new age ******-sadism...
the next earned puppy...
ms. is not a mrs. bovary...
my ******* grandma...
              i'm not gay... just covert...
              sorority ***** vids...
and... auschwitz maiden voyage *** teasers!

like... ich wantz...
         i wollen: ein schälen...
       all remains a chemistry in german...
all is an anatomy in: pennywise
the wicked... puff... and curious candy...

candy kept cain perfect
of h'american'ah...
like some abilist abel... ****-somewhat-"wit"...
no...
no glue for a new, new...
it's the same old... salem witchy-witchy...
dutch lisp...
some better than before belgian congo...
the diamonds! the diamonds and cochccies!

we are weeds in the garden:
the shadows brood concerns first...
the glistening soft affairs
of village people having
to export themselves
to a grandiosity of lunatic stakes
in urban pointers of credulity and concreteness..
i want to call it the death
of a sparrow...
the annoying rebirth of a magpie...
the limbo of a gravitating
silver spoon as the best prized
mythos...

calls a substitute a mother-in-law...
some variation
of a pick-me-up
Beirut granny; boom para giggles
hint.

.there's a reason why i don't care... i don't care because... classfic.fm played me... all it felt fathomable of prokofiev... but it never... ever... played me...

concerning the mythology of the candle:
in the age of electric insomnia -
prometheus edison -
                          a journalistic sabbath:
never to come -
                  i sometimes do and would...
prefer a return to a more archaic form
of illumination -
for the simple reason...
                 some per se i have yet to conquer
with the mind and unravel into
a narrative...

              the current war: i don't remember
the last time i watched a movie from
beginning to end...
no synopsis, though:

        the depiction of thomas edison...
by cabbagepatch...
        hardly a need to make empathy
out of... the exploits...
throughout the film i was...
rooting for george westinghouse:
not being of tesla...
michael shannon alone does the persuading...

the innovative genius of
19th century h'america...
          well... all the criticism of communism...
the soviet genius of the 20th century...
and in all honesty: most of the soviet
rust and golems would work just fine...

the motto: if it ain't broke: don't fix it...
i try... i fail:
       nothing brings me closer to anything
worth minding...
but there are some besides...

why do intelligent people appreciate
classical music:
      me? so so... i'm only as intelligent
as... facing a criminal...
or a psychopath... there's no point claiming
intelligent in an in vitro scenario...
with an i.q. score...
if you can't be fooled by a psychopath...
you're smart: by my standard of inquiry...

if i were allowed to explore:
what edison was able to explore...
       tame the lobotomy of what-ifs...
it really doesn't matter...
when all that was recognised was...
working on "something else":
the movie picture...
                       so much alien and
discouraging scenes from a competition...
to have improved the lot of man...
while at the same time...
to have had to... do the beggar's lot...
the kneeling the arm-wrestling
the vanity projects exploding with
custard-pie foam...

           the terrible affairs of men of will:
i'm so hardly bothered by these words
that i do not even wish to utter them...
intelligent people and classical music...
sorry... i did my part...
it ends with the 19th century...
i had to return to a more basic vision...
medieval music: folk music...
something for a wedding a solistice a...
pan phantasmagorical advent
of fruit flies and ferries...
nothing to liken me to a civilised man:
an opera or a tux...
   to listen to classical music is sometimes...
a bit like... how Magritte painted...
standing... wearing a suit...

in between edison and the electric-chair...
but... the actors swayed me...
the gambler came on top...
    all it was: was distance...
so much for edison and the DC for
j. p. morgan and manhattan...
            when... Iowa needed to be lit...
how many years passed
since the man who held the flint...
and the bundle of dried wood...
and cried: fire! fire i made!
made: rather than discovered...

         on the topic of...
it takes a lot less electricity to cool things...
than it takes to heat them...
electricity used to cool things
is much more efficient than when it is used
to heat them...
lucky for anyone i have a smart
meter...
   i sometimes glance at it...
i have an electric stove...
     i turn it on... the meter shoots up
into the exponential! when compared
to having a fridge-freezer and a freezer
working overtime throughout the day...

electricity is... when used to heat things?
terribly inefficient...
when... compared to how elecricity
is used to cool: and sustain freezing things...
i guess you can't cheat:
fire as the ire eye of the soul -
               to freeze something...
is not akin to burning something...

      never mind: i'm not looking for details...
god forbid i find something that
someone else would want to champion
and merit for themselves...
than: as cheap as pebbles: words...
when given the property of: disguise...

mind you: seeing jordan peterson
playing with a remote car: toy-thingy-m'ah-jig...
not fun... watching robert deniro
escape catatonia was more fun...
because i'm not a fan of the 12th rule:
it's not like it was ever a given...
to somehow always manage to stroke
a freelance cat on the street...
sometimes you do... sometimes you don't...
imagine the rule: the cat decides
whether you'll moses the full dozen
with authority...

otherwise... finding a reinvention
of a chicken korma...
        i had 5 ripe mangos sitting on a table...
2 ripe bananas and a ripe pineapple...
i ate one of the ripe mangos...
           those 2 ripe bananas: with polka
dots of being over-ripe will turn out
to be a breakfast tomorrow...
i will marinade some chicken in piri-piri...
and gloat... when grilling the pineapple...
2 mangos will go toward
tomorrow "chutney"... well... a salsa...
red onions, mint... a pepper and a chilli...

but the other 2 mangos?
went into a reinvention of a curry...
who said you were ever to inquire
of tomatoes for the ****...
         of a curry sauce?
     - and it's not even the usual litany
of spices...
        'what's the difference between
the blue indians of bengal...
and the red indians of minnesotta?
was it simply their culinary antics
that "spared" them...
or... well... "too boot"...
their fancy scribbles: to capture sounds...
like photographs...

oh ****... almost "forgot"...
have a gnostic at my fingertips...
and she's like...
god... the embodiment...
of dutch velders from:
    missed the zombie franchise...
missed the vampire franchise...
missed the: soul-load-of-french-kissing:
eats the **** like an oyster...
franchise...
and she's there: gnostic mother...
part-time typo part-time
of revel: in anything you don't
desire... sort of... mr. seance says:
best this avenue be kept...
crypto i.e. cryptic...

   my socks stink... i light a candle...
i labour myself to trace...
paris... circa 2004 - 2007...
and the first time... the only time...
the last time...
and jim morisson's grave...
like he were: best kept entomped
like some leonard lenin at the red sq....
pwetty mummy for all to...
beside the...         "hindu" state
of the original giza shovel nicked:
dismemberment...
and that oops: where the gradening fork...
broke... a knee and rib and ankle...

who would have thought that so
much could happen in the world...
and the only point of reference was:
not that heidegger: da-sein: being-there...
but... doubling on the already
abstract: dasein: with
a... imploded: "hier"...
like here is some new junction...

  i like my days spent in playing
chess with rudimentary concerns / concepts
of chess when... bricks are stacked...
i also like...
looking at the clouds...
forcing myself to see:
a "nothing": without blinking...
looking back at me...
having donned... a men-yoroi...
because: i'm so ****** up like that...
that i think *** is a tier below
a good meal and a beer...
the best excused pleasure...
the best... substituted... of all demands...

if you can counter...
recreating a turkey korma...
with a mango...
and no almods...
spices: turmeric...
        korma paste... ****...
i don't even remember what goes
into a garam masala:
probably a schnitzel worth of bullets...
GINGER... no garlic...
    ground cumin... nigella seeds...
    chuck stock and coco milk...
point though: you make the sauce
from pulp of mangoes...
and that's what saved
the blue indians from the fate
of red indians of h'america...
and the coppernecks of...
in the vicinity of cuneiform...

          how a concept of vowels...
the elements...
a, e, i, o, u:
      coupled with... an inanimate
thing rattled will not wake
an animate creed...
an animate will wake an animate creed...
even if... the inanimate lot
is bypassed...
a creaking stair... the boiling
of water...
                           दएअठ (death rides...
by rattling... the... "riddle")
                    ऋइदलए
                             ­        no... sorry...
no english "orthography" of liTTle
******: or maNNer...
                 nigh-err-ger-mania-via-nigh...
ger-non-mania... grrrrrr...
  savvy?
    you want myopia hydra
not savvy 'vat saucy fat and:
***** joins the bridge march... sort of...
"whoops"?
and the blue indians survived...
since... they had food that...
would always undermine...
the basic principles of european:
nomad-esque: borrowed from the semite:
desire for exploration...
camel-**** flinging and no need
for a niqab donning...
parsley sage... rosemary and thyme...
the saltz the pepperz...
   the... gorge on the gorgon -lic...
horderaddish! ****-oids!
does it become...
   simon, McLean, garfunfel and...
               timothy goodweather?
              or that other... **** up best of ours...
jazz-***** buckley like...
nina simone was the lesser...
ella... cosine: she never had the moonwalk
in 'er... just those... bloat...
and a signature ******* that would
always come... after the kiss...
yeah... i know the curse of my...
skinz and... the curiosity of... dermatology...
belzeebub took a **** on my face...
once upon the pride of glasgow...
not when...
i took to liking my face to be a metaphor
for... what die krupps did or could
havve done... to the pasture lands
surrounding Ypres...

what is all of comedy...
  when there's... canned laughter...
to invite: the solo-project "audience"
in... then again...
what is... and isn't... dry martini...
the office... ricky / rocky gyrating
when there... isn't any... canned laughter...
it's not like everyone
was born with a lee evans level
of genius! then again:
my scrutiny of comic genius
is equal to that of a pleb...
******... self-depreciating humor...
conel jackson...
of no use point of reference / conjunction...
laurel & hardy...
mel bison... mel gibson...
lethal weapon 1...
      slapstick funny was once...
but when comedy had to turn the tide...
and become... ridicule prone antics...
intelligent...
no one likes smart funny...
because... everyone just loves...
any funny!

  of which... i am... none.
oh yes.... when there was once... a once
upon a time of slapstick humour...
and... begotten nod... not...
ushered... the canned android brigade...
slapstick humour was replaced with...
crass... circulating the jerusalem
periodical of jews reclaiming
their homeland... like the polacks might
and... should one hope...
for... inviting the russians:
origins in siberia...

to tell a cheap joke...
glass someone in the face...
to tell a doubly cheap joke...
censor a word...
then uncesor it...
then censor it...
and: cheap: gob shyte and
a litTTle: BMW: black man's wagon...
pops into the mind like...
pope's a pedohpile kingpin...
al paccio is no paccino...
cuppa... cedric?
   ****... almost forgot...
           çedric... one does... forget...
one's favoured quit: of a collected
nuance... and time...
i **** to say an english hello!
wave! tired: **** y'ah'ah'ha'ha *******
rhyming couplets: Ipswich no sooner?
no sooner no sober: i hope... ah ha...
ha...               ha...
where's the canned laughter?
who's treating lee evans like...
madeleine mc'cann...
    and... frau fritzl...
christopher hitchens is... dead: ist: tod...
but... this burden breather is still...
the fairy godmother for... all those...
hopes... of pigs that dream about not
having to oink to clarify bacon...
   of god and... *******-eating remains of
jihadi ******* clover: of the bataclan...
if i... i die...
so much for... lucid dreaming...
beside the already available...
lucidity... of "others" attempting to barrage
their way into your...
simulation of solipsism life: life earned...
life earned ******* worth of:
the grim.. grimmace...
   lobotomy dyslexia hybrid mongol...
such... worship for...
delving into: all the choir singing!
that they get to! mispell: misspelled!
    happy hunters... loaded with loot and rap...
like i'm white... and classical...
is all... me and pagan music...
yoddle jazz... yoddle pop sheer...
                      like i said... no name...

watching horror movies is...
a coping mechanism...
the knives are blunt...
i sharpen them when i...
and i don't want to use them...
what i want to use...
is nostalgia...
a tool of regret...
and regret is the fathomable
tool of memory and of cinema...
michael faraday!

   what's the indefinite... and inconvenient...
truth... between...
sarcasm... and ridicule?
                      who's playing that sort
of toy and who's... the lesser nostalgia
prone loop?

so much has happened in
the life of the algebra prone  "X"...
but Y... and Z... also happened...
the open glads of...
the... prior to Cain and the "chair":
the nomad prone...
mother... agape: superior...
Siberia the "new" Africa...
         you... starve among the ravenous
wolves...
leave us... oysters....
to crave: demands...
                    and... leisuring...
        a cusp for... none of them...
that these words leave you:
made to fathom... clicking mimic clicking...
that better chiming...
is all that is ever... required...
this... reap of the fierce:
and that time entombing:
                      i too grieve:
for whatever... was... not... told.

  ju: ******* tel aviv sprinter!
elohim and ethiopia woodoo.