I'm an *** of a friend, and I sowwy.
Waking you up for my problems, I know.
Always bugging you about my insecurities.
I swear, wrecking you life's not my goal.
I get mad at you when I have dog days.
And I'm too shy, to pummel those who talk ****.
But I swear to you, this is not what I'm trying to do.
This is not what you deserve.
This is not what you should get.

You never whine to me.
I don't know how you keep things confined,
but ya know, maybe im wrong.
Maybe there is no sorrow inside.

What I'm trying to say is..
thank you for being there.
For holding me up ALLL the time.
Thank you and you're the best,
I would always offer up,
and break you out,
if you committed crime

ever hear
a voice in the garden
that
made you become
startled,
inquiring:
what
the **** was that?!

huh?!
i was the object
of said "what"?

RAP?
exclusion remarks
in the realm of poetics.
i died....
    and Homer went
blind.

oh...
         oh
oh.....
           oh...
the part
where i don't
care to mind,
and the part where
you...

but i wasn't
the white boy
who subjected
your people
to perform
             jew...
oh... sowwy, whaat?
legal nomad..
thingy...
            peoples doing
**** with jewels,
in hobo,
in...
       roma bracelets...
******* squirt worth a ****:
vodoo!
*******... vodoo!

tripod:
that one thing legged...
standing on 'a' 'un leg...
merry ******* christmas
come northern ireland...
savvy?!
  you bet... beat
the bacon!
    ******* hare krishna...
    
i die, and the warning sign
says:
     scrap through
the "gravy"...
   lucky loser,
no. 2!
  
bricktop:
people doing ****
with diamonds...
utter.. bonkers...

       me... you...
hush-hush...

           bonkers-brigade....
******* east london
vowel crisp
cut and pig-me...
loose ends...
******* shy of a boxing munch...

take your tirade to
a recital of Macbeth
via...
           Tehran...
you...
*******...
                       ******!          
otherwise?
w'ha are 'e'
lovelies?

                 eh?

          you skill or somethin'
more, or w'ha?
           bricklayer 'ert or
sum'fin worth the fix?!

give me 'um some *******
cajole!
meaning! news!
you fork's worth
of a nibble on a use
of a *****...
******* pansie...

            ******* ******...

     start *******...
or *****-yourself into
an ease...
with warring-to-come...

ye'... gobshite i ain't buying...
tough man tought
mouth...
punched bit a little...

   god...
i'm gagging!

            itchy sort...
like... you want to sort
the sort from the sort!
******* **** glug *******!
wanna scrap them
on the guillotine of
scratch of
the tongue lick
of:            a...
                   shaven-lick...

sheryl crow...
grammy award album...
1997...
30 or so years later?
good luck hitchhiking
with a jukebox interlude.

psepsacam; co? niet bon jovi? o kij... psepsacam alzu tu; zoo; cult. what? everyone currently & the spelling baron shy skip the point?  no... there's no point, i actually want to even want to make myself want to remember, with 1990s movie or music nostalgia... no, sorry... what were you talkin' about?

i have absolutely no qualms when it comes to working
with women...
but let's face it... in this profession...
all the thrills are gone when women have joined
our ranks:
when once upon a time this was an exclusively masculine
profession...
there's so much less chance for violence,
also thrills... which makes life: livable...
bearable... but unsatisfying to the eternal quest
of man's: ooh... what's there?! what's that?
domesticated licking a wound that has yet to be
inflicted...
             i'm bored... and every other one is
having some mental health crisis...
               the asylum imploded and the worms
are wriggling out to be unable to see the sun...
i was paired up with this poor little thing today...
why do women trust me to the point
of revelling in revealing all their personal problems?
i don't get it...
am i a ******* psychologist on the side?
do i have a rubber ear or something?
  sure... i'll listen: but i'm asking myself...
              every time i ask to be placed on either turnstiles
or where the action is... i get the easy shift
at Fulham... in Bishop's Park... which is a doodle...
which is a yawn...
   but my "supposed" supervisor... Emma...
she once dyed her hair acid green... now she's
fluorescent purple...
           hmm... women and hair colour...
when i was younger... i had this archetypical
burn for blondes...
    i was obsessed with a girl named Milena...
a girl named Samantha... a girl named Janina...
all of them: blondes...
           ***** blondes... blondes of all types...
     but now?
               god almighty: restrain me! gingers!
i finally reached an argument to find this current
girl... 5ft... something or other...
only today i managed to spot her ***...
tight... small... firm... almost like a Christmas
present...
but this little ginger number is unlike
my prior ginger investment...
   this one's not whiskey hued... auburn... darkened
ginger...
this is a lighter shade...
                the same pale skin...
but she's more prone to patches of freckles...
i'm going mad over gingers...
      i can't help myself... there's something so appealing
about these remnants of the Celtic...
you work with women... and... somehow...
you working together they start treating
it like it's your first ******* date...
can't i just be coupled with a guy and talk about
Heidegger's hammer?!
they're good people...
            but... i really don't want to work in an environment
of autobiographical context...
i'm here: to do X... by the time Y comes around
and we clock out... i'm Z: on my way home...
looking for a shop that's open that still sells beer...
the **** i hear i should be paid double...
i get it though... i get it...
i'm human... we're supposed to share our little
stories... i was paired with a girl that finally allowed me
to open up...
i'm guessing there's a Whatts-Up group...
i've been hearing the same ******* questions from
about 6 different women...
today i explored the fact that:
yes, i've been engaged... she broke it up with me and
is now on her second marriage...
do you have kids? to be honest? i don't know....
which is sort of funny...
even if i have i will never know about them...
why are you the only child?!
oh, you know... i was born two weeks after Chernobyl...
even my grandparents remember that spring...
you had streaks of autumn hues in the trees...
my mother didn't have a second child because
she feared... because of my birthmark
on my right shoulder blade... since removed...
she might have ***** mutations... bring forth Siamese twins...
a burden...
            nature is cruel: so should man's intellect...
be likewise...
          hey presto... what did we pass?
a piece of a bird... well... a bit of the torso and a wing...
where's the rest? sort of fits into the narrrative
of... me having a piece of flesh removed from
my shoulder-blade... with an overgrowth of muscle
around the collar-bone...
i just want to be in the stadium...
where the action is...
i get ******* put on the easy shift...
'i want to work with Matthew!'
               they are seriously sussing me out...
all of them... single mums...
i don't believe any of these women are single...
   my "supervisor" keeps nagging me about...
when i misheard her...
she said: hello DARLING...
i thought she said: hello DADDY...
   now i'm ******* Daddy... she just keeps on nagging
me about mishearing the word...
i listen to music on full volume...
i should be deaf by now...
                but she can't let it go...
in the background she has these weird
mobile conversations concerning family courts...
she's in the process of being divorced...
most of these women have dated... dated...
reproduced with absolute *******...
   and that's my problem, now?!
                  now? it's a bit like that sccene
at the funeral of Ernest Menville in: Death Becomes Her...
he lived... the better best days of his life
after 35... after... all that crap...
it's a sick ******* ploy...
   why am i working this easy shift?
  
   oh... right... somewhere down the middle
my supervisor turns into my mother in need of painkillers
complaining about backpains...
i know where this leads...
women give birth... the ultimate pain:
couldn't we just bypass the whole drama and give
them a Cesarean?
oh right... then the Bible would be all wong: wrong;
women would not have to give
birth in agony... sorry... sowwy...
m'ah b'ah... b'ah... bad...
costs too much: mind you...

but what the **** am i? a ******* hugging-slot-machine?!
we're working, no?
so... why am i hugging these women on their
whim?!
one of my ex-girlfriends warned me about this:
i know, i know i am not a godsend for women...

do... plumbers hug when at work?!
do plumbers hug? it's like that meme:
can two straight men share an umbrella?!
i get it... being friendly... fair ******* enough...
but... a woman approaches you...
kisses you on the cheek... hugs you...
hell... she can get away with it...
       because of man's constant "hard-on"...
but... do that in reverse and what do you get?!

i'm as lucky as i'm unlucky...
the women that surround me?!
   they share stories of men treating them like ****...
see... that's the problem...
when you're a man with too many interests
from women... you sort of become a woman...
because... women start treating you like ****...
you sort of become their dumping ground...
let's see what we can get away with...
i'm pretty sure they don't know that i frequent
brothels...
   i'm going to get paid tomorrow...
Thursday... another shift... come Friday?
i'm going to text Khedra and get my *******
****** off...

                but this one ginger tonight...
she's a curious little thing... i know she is...
we were about to stand down...
    the "supervisor" already called it in... since the crowd
was dispersing...
but what did this: new cutie ginger in my life
do? she drags me for a one-on-one into the park...
to "check": optics...
   i'm not going to brag...
    i love women... which implies: i don't want to understand
them...
i love women too much to want to understand them...
and i do see it... some guys have no ******* chance...
you have bad teeth? or no teeth?
no chance... bad hair? i.e. oily... not washed...
no chance...
            bad posture? no chance...
not ironed shirts or trousers? no chance...
sorry... not calm enough? no chance...
                           nature is cruel... so should be man's intellect...
it should be like sandpaper when
all you want to ask for it... gliding your hand
across a body of water...
no no... that's not going to happen...
    time to roughen up...
                 i need sand under my *******
while i rub rub a... ha ha... an "SOS"...
                   working with women is weird...
even my father once exclaimed...
yeah... saw a female bricklayer...
    i'm not sure if she was a butch type of lesbian...
she must have been i remarked...
that's how homosexual relationships work...
they still return to the dynamic of:
someone's going to be masculine while
the other is going to be feminine... no?
           surrogate ******* the medium:
which is ******* harsh... i could be blasted for frequenting
brothels... but... surrogate ******* is...
akin to boxing: a punch below the ******* belt...
that's... not ******* with the ****...
but ******* with the womb...
that's ******* harsh...
                    
    every single ******* time i work with these
women i'm suspect... i'm always ******* dating...
i don't want to date...
i want to work...
            no... no work here...
cuddling... ugh...
                but this one ginger number...
the one that dragged me for the optical illusion
of being in the right place at the right time...
what a tight ***...
again: when i was younger... the archetypical blondes...
but as i've aged... gingers...
Celtic beauties...
    an antithesis of...
                Cerdic & the Saxons in the film King Arthur...
gingers... i'm starting to build up
a fetish for them...
they ooze... beside the clot of freckles...
that... mmm... milk-prowess-synonym of their...
tender... skin...
              
    no... sorry... i'm sort of blinded...
"work" has become sort of become sort of a schoolyard...
girls on boys
boys on girls...
                 what a load of *******...
i tried it with one ginger... Valentine's flowers...
crard... banana loaf... home-made-wine...
not good enough... not complicated enough...
   vinyl collection? not good enough...
well ******* not good enough...
           there's always another ginger in the poker-hand...
mind you: her *** looks... hmm... better than yours...

what a pretty little thing...
if i managed to give her the blushes...
i'm sure...
i'm pretty ******* sure...
i'd see as many freckles as i'd see on a Dalmatian!
like i said:
i love women too much to not want to understand them...

oh man... this ginger cutie...
what else? if not a single mum...
instead of a hug she dragged me into having a one-on-one
convo with me...
    oh sure... it's great... in the "upper tier"...
but it's not like they settle for you...
you're in the leftover crowd...
   chasing forever the middle ground...
  
            the safety net of...
                  it's nice seeing those ringed fellas running
around with problems...
i'm not joining the club...
                      dying all alone... in a hospital...
can't be that bad... learning from my grandfather:
compared to living a life of absolute misery for over 40 years...
no... thanks...
    as long as i'm desired...
better... than being kept by one ******* sparrow-sing-along.

for those yet, imagining themselves alive...
i "kwa'ight"....
quiet... quite...
         acquitted...
if there's a rock to be lived
under:
i'll just be the rock... i once had a faint
notion that i was alive...
i had what might be congested in a summary:
a thirst... a willingness...
summary and all those
broken things... "things"...
within the enraged solo
projects of solipsists...
self-"betterment" up a cul
de sac... has... infiltrated my
breathing: crease... count in german:
eins zu zehn
jeden do dziesięć...
   kurwa jebana mać...
poor traffic... thd ******* blinkers are
on... a turning right done awry...
ein(s)... one... jeden...

eine ein eins jeden raz one
zwei dwa two
drei trzy three
vier cztery four
fünf pięć five
(pięść is a denotes a fist... a faust)
sechs sześć six
sieben siedem seven
acht osiem eight
neun dziewiendź nine (nein nein)
zehn dziesięć ten....

mind you...
be drop the pointless diacritical marker
on the iota... we'd see more "punctuation"
markers: where, otherwise: we wouldn't...

i congested myself with counting
in three languages to somehow...
ease-up...
ten? informant: he / him!
ta? informant: she... shimmy(?!) her's...
hisses of his'...

i will not bring the Iberians into
this discussion...
what's left, though? scraps
of language and language policing...
******* and bells...
twang... death to the ditto... blah blah:
bleach and mythological blondes...
scraps i do one job good for you...
most... better... will not trace lineage...
no smear...

          t"they" never think less of
the Yugoslavs... i'm tired of being a punching bag of a people...
of all "people": the Irish not 'ard enough to
challenge the English have to find...
come the Soviets come the Nazis simultaneously...
looks like integrating into English society
didn't allow me to forget...
this zunge doesn't erase the ******* blows...

rich, though... no surprise that the Reesh
would squander and throw their *******
potatoes like monkey **** at...
oh i guess: shelved "life"... peoples...
if i were living back among my brethren...
i don't think i'd be living at all...
what would i do with not being
agitated concerning... minor... qualms?

the ******* leprechauns... priests...
are less than the english...
but are somehow tier above the pollacks?
it's no offence when it sounds proper...
in a foreign babble...
dzida...

          i'd just ask the Eire son...
so... ahem... where's your ******* Celtic?
gone... non-existent?

aon, dhà, trì, ceithir...
   còig (what's wrong with co'ig?)
sia,
seachd, ochd... naoi... deich...
so the grapheme CH = X of greek origin...
a ******* hark?

the Irish like the ******* Arabs...
the British did this to: oos...
it's impossible to live with these
go-to-party "solipsists" to begin with...
integrate? into... or for what?
rot? that's a-plenty...
but when some spaghetti monsters
and those potato jargon-fiddlers start
their usual **** about a fellow
european people...

it's not like the Croats or the Serbs are
ever mentioned...
they vent to h'america and youz zee...
zese irish and italliano guinnea pig-me-ups...
kwoss-eyed... you know...
best bitterest better...
inbreeding... takes a chunk of coal...
chalk and cheddar...
mustard...

  inbreeding mentality... superiority complexes...
no reimagines parmesan cheese like
it's not... shredding... old skin
off of heels...
talk stinkiny witchy with a missing R...
this massive ******* gloat of "riddle"...
that suppose: it's also a man...

       while the world... "also" happens...
these little: belittling interferences...
as if we were all supposed to be crowned kings
or queens... it's not that i'm even elevated
above these concerns...
but that i must have them...
must: if i were a king... i most probably wouldn't
even entertain the sense of hearing
on their existence!

in a society of sociopaths and solipsists...
a massive get together
of protest happens once in a while...
i get drunk and dump ****** words
onto paper...
i'm not alone in this "adventure":
yet i'm beginning to be...
more and more sorry for having
such... indigestions to sorrow over...
moral relativism is out
in the words of the choicest
of the choiciest...
   i'm looking for something beside
the superlative adjective: choicest...
the diminutive "concern"...

which doesn't exist in english...
and i can't exactly introduce it using my:
mutterzunge either...
correct spelling?
look at it... choiciest vs. choicest...
the most most choosey...
to pick of calculus exponentially incremental
details of observable shifts...
the exponential aspect of detail...

how many of the Irish still speak
their Gaelic...
apparently there's a Scotch version
of the tongue...
but... the Scots will not speak it...
completely submerged in their union...
they'll just exfoliate in how distinct
they are from a Loon'don'er
speaking the same language...
you could probably rewrite trainspotting
using that linguistic language
embedded in the dictionary
of:

   how i met your mother, the mute...
/ (haʊ) /
       / (aɪ) /
                 / (mɛt) /
               / (jʊəp) /
                               / (ˈmʌðə) /,
                        / (ðə) /          / (mjuːt) /

i wonder... and what if we started writing
like this? proper... phonetically...
like linguists?
the side note of /(x)/ though...

the written word is doubly ambiguous...
to the point of no return concerning
the sufficiency of its practicality of use...

ʃeɪk  ænd
                ˈʃætə...

if i had the time and *******' worth of
writing a poo'em like a linguist...
if i had more love for the Irish...
sowwy... all love spent on the Scots...
from these Isles at least...

sheikh who? shake your: *****?
that's ******* fwank zapp'ah...
      
but it's not that... i have qualms with
the Irish over the stature and seriousness
when occupying the "underground"...
i won't rap: god forbid i...
"**** someone": my catchphrase
wouldn't be:

allahu akhbar... it would be that teutonic chant
of: gott! mit! uns!
if that Norwegian hyper-smart terroroist
chanted those words...
what words? these words:
gott! mit uns!

   but around these isels...
you'd think there might be a sense of solidarity...
among the catholic irish and the
catholic poles...
but no... tępy ajrysz...
  blunt-irishman...
                  one side arguing for the other sides
dislodging of "i.q."...
same with those spaghetti swindlers...
the...

mind you... ****** is not a racial slur...
it's actually better to denote a pole a ******
since... not kinh john: lackland...
the whole hiss-tow-stowwy...
i'm not pole: positioned...
i'm not...

    divorced from "my" people:
and the "mother" land...
                  Warsaw the last great end-venture...
keeping it up...
mawa: little old gone...
         in the hunch fabric of
lessening the diaspora approach...
you don't think i mind the missing links...
when there's a collected agenda for the purpose
of a purge of the intelligensia...
now... because only the Jewry suffered
a historical lineage of tonguies
towing complaints....

         **** it: the russian sayingly... newly invented:
**** me?! ******* too!
but in the english realm who's the lesser
******* among the polacks and the irish?
who's less gingerbreadman?
my side... most probably...
how will we ever let the 20th century become
past?
oh **** me... we will need another
war... but chances of that are...
sort-of-slim...

             no? it might begin with:
bypassing loan-words...
and how self-help gurus and famous psychologists
refrain from infiltrating lost hybrids of
focus, that there might be a clearaance to
discover society outside the realm of pop!
saavvy?
i don't like this...
psychological testimony of:
what's an alpha male?
not me... what's a beta male?
not me... what's a malaise?
what's an omega man?
everything that an alpha male is...
in that... there's an antonymous discharge
of needs... requests...
demands...

how many Irish still speak their...
diego / alfonso magic "whisker" ****?
that ******* Gaelic?
so much for aardvark "typo" in Scotch...
because it just so happens...
you speak an over exfoliation of lettering...
the aesthetically bogus: claim of...
no... no "originality":
i'm not even going to bother the higher
tier of diacritical markers to
instigate "something"...

but this whole: i'm a lesser "european" when
it doesn't suffice in north american parlance...
i'm sort of... em.... ******* bothered?
history seems to be a lesson
in teasing small-**** and the infinite
summary of infancy... last time i heard...
because the Mongols never made it to... "x"...
because the Turks never had ownership of Vienna...
because it took both the Nazis and the Soviets
to make me bow...
in England? the invention of snooker...
tennis... football... rugby...
bored people... obviously...

how: else: woudln't you have capacity...
need... to invent so many coliseum...
distractions to mind: and take seriously...
if you knew: you were an island dwelling folk...
and you staged your pride in not being
invade-prone...
a bit like the whole of east London's
pakistani-land...

wake up 40 years from now... from...
little bengali land...
the Pakistani grooming gangs of the supposed...
while i'm getting more and more irrritated
by paying for ***...
having Bulgarian ****** pretending to be
Romanian....
you see the grit in my use of teeth that aare never used to
nibble and conjure...
a "drying of bones"?

i will complain about the Irish as i will about the
tail-tan'ohs...
******* spaghetti slurppers...
we of the same European origins and the same
brain-drain... because the anglo-saxons
fiddled out a mechanism for...
a "coming together"... of...
a people... just like germany was confederated...
into a federality...
wow!

  the pope receding... on paper...
the Irish make complaints against the Polacks...
the Irish demean the Polacks...
nice nice... here's to me equipping myself with
Haitian "nouns"...
you, *******... ginger: knuckle-fiddle-numb...*****!
what Celt wishes himself to have
a Cyrillic ancestry?! almost all...

have your little i.r.a. memento...
       i'm only concerned about
a pomeranian, conrad... quest...
aren't the czechs / hungarians locked into
that... posit of being: without an access to
a "window"... hardly... that the baltic...
already is... Samaritan....

porsch monkey: among the slurrs... "poet"...
pshek in... denotative lingo...
it's a: thank you...
i call you worse:
    karot... burak... syberik....

thankful though: it's hardly a slur...
king John was known as lackland...
given the shrinking of the Angevin empire...
thus "we"... shrunk to the duchy of warsaw:
a satellite of Napoleon's ambitions...
then the Warsaw Pact...
pandering to the Bolsheviks...
blah blah: now more pandering to
woke ha-ha-h'americanacancan...
the mythological blonde: always on my mind...

the first words in my language
they managed to speak and they somehow managed to
call it a slurr... and polish: paul-leash isn't?
pole position, heading north?

say strawberry in ******?
TRU-S-KAWKA...
     paul's on a leash of nibbling on the quarters
and halves of would be barons of pandemonium...
we were teenagers once...
and once upon in an Ilford mall...
we bought compact disks...
rival schools... fugazi...
coal chamber's dark days...

  those where somewhat architecture days,
though...
you can't make this **** up...
you probably have had to live it, sort of.

- otherwise who can't forget the flight of the Jewry
from the area...
once there was a makeshift synagogue on
Coventry Rd.,
now there's a 7th day evangelical war band
gathering pulpit... source...
i was expecting a mosque: in all honesty...
it's a common suggestion:

now first comes the flight of the Jewry...
the whites are somehow 2nd...
but as i explained to my mother today...
i feel sick in a monochromatic...
homogeneous society...
i went to Cheltenham once...
to hussle my own self-published book...
i felt ill seeing so little minority
representation...
it's not like i'm brainwashed...
but among these minorities in Loon-dune
i'm a ******...
back in Warsaw i'm a feral animal...
among "my people" i'm zero-punkt-zero-nic...

the vagabonds of the world decide to congregate
in Loon'don... for some reason: ulterior or
altogether "other"...
the world has congregated:
is this still about the English having their
nationhood infringed?
perhaps from a perspective
of the Midlands... Birmingham...
but over 'ere...

funny that... i live in England...
but i probably interacted with more Irish
and more Scots than the supposedly
demographically first...
i probably encountered more Pakistanis too...

so what's the difference between
a Samaritan and a Sarmatian?
you're running? i thought i ran...
i might run... who's running?
is it raining?
is that... ****'ite iconoclasm?
sign me up...
            
but living among the Irish who are
not living in Ireland...
a tired old bunch... sometimes...
it's hard to fathom their identity crisis
since a whole swab of them
spoke a zilch of Gaelic...
it's like with these over-impressed
succcess stories of "integration"
from olive-pound land /
****** copper...

the parents want to integrate...
that **** backfires...
the grandson retains the tongue
to his grandma to speak
back to her her native...
yet his... "in-between"... "integrational english"
becomes a sick joke: stereotype...
almost a cul de sac accent...
the sort that has to breathe into a phrase:

oi oi! bown and bwead!
  em... bone and bread?
how does that work?
i guess it must work "miracles" from places
where the ingestion of gelatin is
foreign... transcending "foreign":
too alien to compose...

yes... detailing the promises of pork, pig...
the most economically sound
animal: beside the hoofs...
you can utilise almost... "almost": all of it...
one way of the other...
an animal that can never be a waste:
unless you're into dabbling into a cannibalistic diet...
plus... lamb... lamb: *******: stinks...
the aged lamb...
plus... how would you herd pigs...
pigs aren't herded...
it's a theological anger at...
camel-jockeys being unable to... harvest
the only potential of farm-food... via the pig...
pigs aren't herded:
i've only heard of a herd of pigs
and that's when there came a time
to treat a trough like an array of teats when
the porkies were 'ung...
is it a despised animal?
a despised animal because:
and the devil reimagined himself as a pig?

so god looks like a mythological blonde...
the devil looks like a piggish minotaur...
why this demise of pig?
why this gratification in the islamic mirror
of words looking accessible: i.e. dog | god...
my all mighty: allah: blah-lah...
fork in the road: are we 'appy... "now"?

but when you live among the diaspora of the Irish...
you'd sort of suppose... what's the gaelic for green?
now that the internet is here...
i can find out for myself...

why demean the pig? was the pig created by
the ******* devil?
or is this one of those Abrahamic ploy-toys...
rigidity structures...
to leave you surrendered...
go against anything else: beside the pig...
it's such an economic model, creature...
you can utilise almost all of it...

not all of us were born Afghan sheep
herders... savvy?
that eating pork is somehow signature
of inbreeding and s schizoid tinture...
wh'ah?! i lost the TAU along the way...
o.k.?!

it's a waste of time having arguments
with... oh forget: rag-muffin'...
inbreds... i wass thinking about ***...
i picked a spot... Rotherham...
Pakistani grooming gangs...
oh... right... here's a lollipop... here's some dosh...
i'll get a hard-on with a girl who didn't mature
into prostitution wtih a crack-******* 'abbit...

chances of me ******* low i.q. is like
zilch then? i imagine the tirades...
the knife-insinuations...
**** a barrister: **** for life...
settle down: solve **** concerninng:
immmovaable objects:
the sun still has "egotism" to rise
and call it tomorrow...
and her ******* own too: to boot...
imagine that!

why go after the pork 'n' pie?
why pet a dog?
why pet a cat?
     i've already mentioned...
sometimes lamb: just stinks...
lamb kidneys?
STINK... SCHTINK!
but you also can't keep pigs
in an environemnt where you also use
camels instead of horses... no?
no one is talking about this...
because... it's probably too obvious to have
to stress this ******* argument....

came the Ottomans... the Mongols...
the Soviets for a while...
came the Nazis...
why weren't we the people who championed
each other at snooker...
why didn't we invent football...
tennis... cricket...
rugby... i don't want to blame the English
for their race...
but they have been privileged in:
intra-"whiteness" terminology...

what English soldier ever stood ground
on ****** soil?
i've heard of ****** pilots having dog fights
for the battle of Britain...
how the enigma machine was not merely
the work of Turning...
etc. etc.
gravesend: i'm here reduced to "biasing"...
yet i'm giggling at the remote prospect
of "gravity"...

i have clues to concern myself over...
ownership...
          a hierarchy of a cascade...
time follows time...
this solo project of "individuality"
was never going to... "work"...

pending...

   connlach dearg...

    but the welsh still speak welsh... no?
i guess that Carlsbeg moment of:
probably the best'ly integrated people in
the world... the Welsh are...
they still exfoliate in having a punching bag
of their tow-tongue...
unlike that most, supposed... oppressed people
of the... anglophonic world affair...
the Reesh that speak no ditto of Gaelic...

who are, you, you people?!

it's only ever sensible to point out
classism for the english...
given the hierarchy of... genesis: crown...
it's not like there
was ever an arrived at cromwellian
republicanism... ever!
there's a need to posit:
a shadow is an extension of the body...
best visible come noon...
the shadow is never
an invitation to replace the body...
beside there being a noon...
but i like the idea...
for all the superiority
of sensible ideas: that are never
a ******* light-bulb...
when england came across india:
it didn't conquer it...
it merely... reinvented itself...
and brought back a taste for curry
for the plebs...
sowwy... towing what's most
honestly twoo...
    then again... without a(n) ego-crown...
h'american tabloid press
"republicanism"...
i don't know which is worse...
i still best flip
a coin that has lizzy's itchy
nose on the base of:
counter corruptions...
such that the popes have met
their: post-scriptum...
i promised myself this...
i'll commit myself...
to ol' susie lo'...
if... and only if and only when...
ol' lizzie has done the
sinker!
         then! when i'll...
pay for ***** and giggles
with a tenner that 'as 'er
son's visage... detailing...
how best to arrive at ******!
and i will sing! god save! our! king!
i must say: muttered best:
quiff of blonde... herr schtrap!
and kooning 'arlie!
yes... best come across the knee...
and tooth biting sand...
sort of... grit!

I leave to work and its true
That work **** without you
My mind lost in wishful thinking
Staring at my phone not blinking
Your texts so sweet make my day
The worst day I know will be okay
Well I have to go back to work
P.s I wuv you an sowwy I was a ****

ich würde, vielmehr: schreiben
etwas deutsche:
graswurzel, das ja!
the ******* need more you
ponce of a mongrel saxon!
better deutscheland grammar?
we had our "solistice"
time-out... welcome tomorrow...
no point leaving
a workaholic out for no
apparent reason: best bet?
"look busy"... ******* furlong's
worth of "short"...

jump that! y'ah ******* dwarf
bridge-gap brigade!
der hobbitenvolk ar kommen!
der hobbitenvolk ar kommen!
nicht die kirschemäntel... aber!
noch die "unerwartet":
zeppelinpumpernickelhoppla!
- why am i bound to the scotch
nationalists? oh... i lived among them
for over three years...
the celtic remants...
perhaps edinburgh would be
the new dublin...

christmas... it's such a german "ting"
like... that irish celtic tad woz
zee timez... C'U... C'U... no...
no L8ER...

but i managed! everything i served on
the plate and placed on a table...
the oven-cooked tatties...
the parsley snippets...
the carrots... the garlic...
the peppers... the red onions...

what the **** am i celebrating,
now? i'm pretty sure, that,
whatever it was... will fizzle out
come post-christmas hangover of a tomorrow...

and a buckling-load-of-****-of-europe...
the same islander "english" mentality...
euro-trash continent...
this... belly-button of the world
english mentality...
you wouldn't suspect it among
the welsh, the irish, the scotch...

perhaps the united kingdom can become...
the next yugoslavia under charles the III...
does he keep his name?
does he? London is long gone...
just as Danzig was long gone...
when Venice wrote the blueprints...
an ancient folklore of a city state...

******* just interrupted something...
no... it wasn't the Royal Ascot...
the horses, ran, ran and buckled...
broke some legs and not being able
to fall asleep standing: were put down...
the greengrocers of betting had their harvest...

we'll still have the top hats,
the champagne "socialism"... the CLASS...
oh you have to remember the CLASS / CASTE
pseudo-hindu "oops"...
england will still be...
what scotland and wales could be...
the less timid bits and pieces of...
what could probably hang in the air
as the new yugoslavia...

"problem" being... it's an island...
it's unlike iceland...
and it's quiet unlike new zealand or...
or... japan...
it's... when...
alt vati pommerschen...
flüsterte in der kinderwagen
auf sachsen, und sagte...

the ******* think you're going?
******* yew-tree quasi-nomad
of germania? you're an imitation
hebrew... or you're...
you're not a: bayerischverwandtschaft?

as yes, christmas only makes sense
now... drinking from the amber spring
of the baltic...
some scotch runes in: mash-up...
easy, easy...

i can use this, acquired, language...
but i know the ******* will have their Ascot...
die sächsischweg...
ants-in-their-pants...
and now "they" think they're settled...
post-colonial imperialism bound
to a nationalist revival...
so much for having no nostalgia...
akin to...

the battle of Tannenberg 1410 -
the date 680 by St. Wilfrid...
such a date... a northern crusade against
the last pagans of europe:
the lithuanians... **** me, i don't need
to paint... the lithuanians and the other
baltic folk... whatever the hell became of
the prussians: who weren't exactly treated
as germans by the teutonic collective...

oh i'll sing the carol songs...
i'll sing the crusader songs... hey! pronto!
i'll sing that... baby jesus doesn't really do it for me...
i'll go and visit Catalonia where
the name Jesus is diffused...
ends up a hey-zeus construct...
a H'ezeus etc.... and the party is over...

but i could celebrate christmas...
if it was in german...
i don't know why... perhaps it's riddling
a masochism remains with teasing
the whole: "wunderbar"?

better still... when europe is cited...
there's that black-hole europe...
there's that... cindarella of europe...
that "missing link"...
between what the balkans served up
in the 1990s... the collapse of the soviety union...
how the 2008 economic crash didn't really
affect this region...
von unter die eisenvorhang...

island people: shire folk...
hobbits... you know the sort...
very idiosyncratic...
one minute a russophobe...
next minute... exotica of the siberian ooh!
aah! i have lived on these isles for...
it's not worth stating:
a better part of my life...
but i have lived... among...
the scots, the irish...
i teased the welsh...
and in London? the tower of babel came...
come to think of it...
the english have sort of reacted like
vermin... you rarely see them...
perhaps in oxford...
of ****... pakistani **** gang there too...

my bet is... elizabeth is "dying":
no she's not... seen that ***** on roller-skates?
seen her pre-house-of-windsor
Saxe-Coburg and Gotha teeth,
chin... and... what the hell and other have
they almost made... insufferable
in it being: signatured? the teeth,
the chin... the eyes!

saxons... jews of the germans...
nomads of the north...
it's not like they ever moved with
a hope for adventure...
when a saxon moves...
he moves with a sense of investment...
he brings his reproductive tools with him...
no wonder there was a feud between
the germans and the "germans": the saxons...
this is... what could not possibly be...
the basic interpretation of england...
past the "chernobyl" of the norman invasion...
how celtic became saxon became
french... became... a ******* cocktail
cosmopolitan...
but the welsh still retained their:
Cymru...
there you go...
white cross on a black canvas...
pirates!
Wales and Cornwall...
dip into a ditto-esque whatever...

the remains of the saxons when the global
cocktail decided to send a postcard from
'ere minding the cockney shlang as:
the proper way to speak... Estonian...
eh?!

bewildered germans speaking...
i don't even know what i am speaking:
it's not much of an achievement if you're
speaking english...
you're bound to suffer from a variant of
flu or fluke or slang...
it's not exactly regarded as:
high esteem latin... or hebrew...

pauper Poland: "where i'm from"...
thank god it's omitted...
never in discussions...
by western "proletariats"...
cheap beer in Prague while... Warsaw?
sowwy... not enough bi-lingual
tour-guides and trout ******* mothers
from the caravan of Zappa...

and we will beg to differ...
i don't come from a people who would
celebrate being conquered by ancient rome
had to matter...
yet somehow i write in Latin encoding...
imagine if... Latin encoding was lost
akin to cuneiform...
but it wasn't...
i did, i truly did...
miss the glagolitic transition via
greek into cyrilic...

invader kin: these slavs these indo-europeans...
it ***** up the narrative of the origin seekers...
these modern, "protestant":
afro-europeans of the YEST...
i say: part of the gesticulation of jesting...

among the saxons who disavow their germanic
heritage... thinking they could somehow
replicate the polish-lithuanian commonwealth...
last time i heard...
just because the scotch speak english...
but keep their: wee part of the equation...
the welsh still speak their welsh...
pen dal i fyny uchel draig...

what's the difference betwen...
the medieval Lithuanian...
and the modern Welsh?
what doesn't allow this "union" to sink
into a second Yugoslavia?
h'american influences?
the... "commonwealth"?
at what point sharing a tongue is a plus...
when anyone can start reciting a Bruce Lee
film: kung fu action packed:
chop sui?

augusta III sasa and
marii józefy habsburżanki...
the house of ßaß...
saxons... again: the hebrew of the germanic people...
the nomads of the confederation...
they always... need... to... move!
and if you find them not moving...
they settle for pyramids...
and i mean: pyramids without Giza
reliefs of archeological "findings"...

but there's a massive gap...
between europe... that "bit" in the middle...
and russia...
russophobia is quiet funny...
i'd still prefer to speak german when
celebrating christmas...
after all... i did make a fickenumbringen
when it came to that alcoholic cake...
nein nein...
nicht ein königskuchen noch ein
stollen! keks... kegs...
a rumtopf!

oh i don't mind the natives...
who are the natives?
where the **** is alice?
parasites leeches... sächsischumgangssprache:
wo / wann sesshaft...
are the natives the welsh with their
retainer tongue kept intact like...
the scotch? the ire hell and fire 'reesh!
who does it take...
to speak to the natives of these isles?

just wondering...
because the saxons that remained...
and the saxons that left...
have a ******* in las vegas...
glory be to man to be the man
on the moon...
and all that...

i spent this christmas and...
i didn't buy anyone anything...
i just undermined myself...
when in england...
feel at home, during christmas...
talk some german,
some german outside of a saxon
influence of being the jew-german...
moving from place to place...
****: ja ja... ich "versammeln"...
nomadin / se-my'tine... deutsche "mischling"...

please excuse the saxons...
they are a... frivolous bunch of...
hobbit seeking elven folk...
the chinese crusade and medicinal ivory powder...
apparently: those ****-*****-base-*******-stinkers
will grow! they have size 11 feet and are...
5ft6 tall... walking on chicken nuggets then...
or stilts... or... that chinese harem of:
tied feet and toe "heels"...

oh i'm very much in england...
i can just soak myself in wild...
belligerent humour...
i've dropped any sense of irony...
it's ridicule on steroids...
but as long as there's an element of being
self-deprecating?

poland is the cindarella of europe:
hungary is worthwhile the better return of
being an: examplar reminder...
of how to deviate from socio-political norms...

black hole piece of europe...
then again: in between russia and the west...
there's some variation of an "interlude"...
which is neither west, nor east, nor central...

ensure you keep a **** in the orchestra...
so foul that it would make
a cat jump running...
giggling... turning on nazareth's
hair of a dog... being reminded:
there's a cow bell in it being towed...
and what choir spectacular didn't ever use
a castrato?

- because if i wanted to retain...
rhyme and a formality of this tongue...
how would i ever feel comfortable...
nothing of the spectacular...
the everyday myopia magic:
how umbrellas became mushrooms
in the fog grey forest of the urban
amnesia...
because i too tend to forget a Mozart...
when i find myself...
falling asleep to the sound of falling
rain on a tin roof...
violin begone! cello begone!
give me rain on a tin roof!

i'll be your Muhammad counting
the number of bones in a body...
truly and vividly so...
i can forget Mozart...
when i fall asleep...
while it's raining and...
the monotone gives me bliss...
the same note: on repeat...
on repeat.. on repeat...
nonetheless: it's still to be regarded
as a polyphony!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

eh... little women: know very little.

!!!nopoem oops sowwy LOL

or how some h'american don't ever
say: Worcester sauce... or Lea... or Perrins...
or: who's?! woo-ster
sau-sausage... ******* whittle-****...
worse off than... worst-shire-in-the-pronunciation...
rubric... Worcestershire... which is: woo! woo!
woo-steer left! ah ha ha!
sort of a bit like a sot of a bit like:
Gloss... ter... tier? no... TER ******* TER...
gloss-over and a tear...
Gloucestershire! gloss-T: gloss-tear...
no: not tear: tier: no! not tier!
akin to per say: gloss-ter...
shire... **** tongue fiddly... almost French...
write one way... speak it another...
it's also woo: woo... ah woo! like a wolf: pseudo-bark...
ah-woo! woo... mister...
   prime minister...
      this language is a ******* jumble...
phonetically a Slav like me always finds it sort of
funny...
painfully...
             Woo! Woo-ster-sos: sauce... who the **** needs
these extra vowels? sos... no, not s.o.s.:
sos... why the ****... sauce?!
     where's the u the c and e?
the same retards that say: too many consonants
in the ****** writing...
same ones, i.e. same retards who can't spell
jack-**** in InG_LEASH...
                    sowwy... but your zunge has...
too many vowels jumbled up together...
you don't ******* write as you speak...
no... you don't...
       you write one way... speak another...
it's confusing this little ******* silly me...
   then again: there's no point...
most Anglophone speakers are retards to
begin with... teach them...
the complications of writing:
THOUGHT...
o.k. sure... F-O-U-T...
fout... or... FOWT... that's better... FOWT...
that's thought...
so... from FOWT...
T and H *******... U too...
  G is nowhere to be found... nor is the H...
wow! what a fascinating language...
i can... truly come in... and post-modernise it!
truly... i can come in and... rumble...
shake it a little... because...
like i've already noted...
anyone left-wing in the Anglophone world...
no... you're good...
i don't want to understand you...
i will not understand you...
     if i were to choose between **** Germany
and the Communism of the Russians...
6 years versus 45 years of a brain-drain?
guess... go on... give it a guess!
             Hugo Boss... GRAU WERHMACHT
Anzüge!
            oder... SCHWARTZ!
                 but it's so pleasingly
fiddly... this tongue... no diacritical markers...
hell... i can come in and take a ****
and also cite... those Pakistanis of Rotherham
having a stranglehold on...
whatever an English woman is, these days...
not much...
      because my impulses within the confines
of Darwinism have, been, insulted!
trans-gender *******...
but my frame i can't lie about...
but if i have to... that's an insult to merely seeing...
calling me ******* blind!
i don't like being insulted...
ridiculed...
   i don't like being challenged by retards...
you give me a capable opponent...
akin to a Kasparov... o.k.: you... reduce me...
to... being levelled to... orientating myself
around... a ******* euthanasia march of...
******* disease?
now i'm grinding my teeth...
i'm scheming...
   i don't like my intelligence to be insulted...
****** didn't like his creative talent
to be insulted, either...
i don't like being made to be:
accommodating... conscientious...
      bulls don't charge at seeing red...
they charge at seeing FUSCHIA...
bulls have UV vision... i'm seeing ******* FUSCHIA...
i'm grinding my teeth...
knives are testimony... but... they're...
sloppy...
   not enough space or numbers...
me? i'm tired...
   the mediocre idiots can smile, giggle... bless
their gentle... non-soul... body-tombs...
whatever... i've started building up
a... blutdurst! a blood thirst!
     it's: unbefriedigend unverzeihlich...
unforgivably unsatisfying!
   so much yuck... ugh... grunts and schemes of
averting pressuring an onomatopoeia...
such is the tongue...
no diacritical markers...
what's to be expexted?
the apostrophes... come: who's?!
with ' i.e. hide the i?
            *******... Velsh steward... sort... of... "guide"...
yeah... nice nice... corn needs to be clapped about;
while poetry needs to be written
by people at the end of their mortal tumult...
that's when you, ******* start!
that's when! safely guarded by...
not having to *******... drop dead
and ******* fail! that's when...
you start writing... "poetry"...
that's best! no no... that's the best time...
to... find relief in... scribbling *******'s worth
of rhymes... that's what you do... by then!
people have become...
so... *******... irrelevant...
spasmodic... queer... oddly...
almost... ******* on themselves...
   like... i'd like a conversation with a zombie...
or... a robot... but i'm getting... example X...
pseudo-humanoid itch... i'd rather speak with
a robot... or a zombie... but... you're giving me...
what?! this is, this is a... human?!
i'm joking, or are you, joking?!
        
    no, no! don't allow me to speak to a human
being... whatever the hell that means...
please! please! let me speak to a zombie!
or an oyster! or a robot! a.i. synthetic language
simulation: generator... "thing"...
people are too ******* ugly when...
no no... they just: "pretend" to be stupid...
they do... until...
they sense they can overpower the interaction...
oh... then they're ******* smart...
******* savvy..
        that's when i see:
    time to ****.

am i being an *******, am i, maybe?!
                     before the real polemics begins...
i have to deal with these little
shitlords in the comments...
                    plague: the sefiroth lifted to the heavens,
castrated and told to sing: give me
my idle hands for the devil to do much more
than this...

based upon a reflex:
   concerning

thank "god" / "luck" my alter-ego
Conrad von Heiligkreuz is not getting a welcome
reception elsewhere...

my-poetic-side...
            only a 2nd poem in and i'm "told"
to shut up...
         happy to conclude a revived jazz binge...

i once had a friendship...
which lasted to the point of hearing:
it's word salad... sorry, what?
i do know the lexicon of psychiatry...
perhaps your sister is a genetic oddity...
but i'm hardly the "spezial needs"
culprit... the royal family are paid for by
taxpayers' money...
they are grifters of pomp and circumstance...

not that i'm waiting for ol' lizzie to die...
but if i had suicidal tendencies...
i'd wait this one out...
a pope dies... a knee bother...
but the queen of england?
the lineage running from edward
the confessor?! ****! i'll have to be around
for that one... when ol' charlie
gets his face into print
on that new spastic fantastic grit of
plastic... paupers' paper...
hardly a square mile of a proper... wipe...
one's ****...

         i'm waiting for lizzie to drop
at the gallows...
i had to call her: purple comic sans girls...

rereading... on the offensive...
i am an *******...

purple comic sans girl:
do you feel better having got that lot off your mind. So therapeutic this posting on MPS business isn't it? I imagine you found yourself bored out of your mind before writing that tirade and i hope its been of benefit for you.

Conrad von Heiligkreuz:
blah blah blah blah blah... and some words in between... then again more blah blah blah... wait... is this one of those "safe spaces" i've heard of? you're not going to leave me with a benefit of the doubt, are you? well then... run along... run along... stick to rhymes and rumi, or whatever crap you're into.

he also posted a comment on one of purple comic sans girl's poems:
yep... thanks purple COMIC SANS girl... your comment was more engaging than this poem... sowwy... now get your sycophantic hyenas to focus on me and get me banned... too bad you can't see any constructive criticism... i was going to ask: iz u zee torbewahrerin - some twitter-esque blue checkmark cerberus for this website?! will you be the one to go that one step further and tell me: no lightbulbs for you: no internet access... wipe your *** with your hand and write by candlelight? thanks for the emotions though... i was right in being slow today... low blood pressure... thanks for the emotions... now i can knit them into a bundle, a stone... and throw it into a sea of rhythm. again: i'll just ask your sycophantic hyenas to come knocking... god forbid this site is to be one of those urban myths of "safe spaces": thinking hurts: aaagh! i quiet like the blog section of this site, though... it would be a great shame not to catch up on poetic news... yup.... "friends" / fwends... walking on egg-shells... looks like an echo-chamber to me... this sort of "love" / ******* you see for miles and miles... doesn't anyone these days tire of news as propaganda... and such only ++++ comments? i'm thinking of washing my hands like some o.c.d. golem... and brushing my teeth... see you later purple comic sans girl; thanks for the adrenaline shot.

definitely the pronouns...
that's it... this is not definitely the *******?
first impressions... the churn of emotions...
well there was... nothing exactly... "offensive"...
but i'm that beyond redemption e.g. of
no e.g. to begin with:

         alter-ego alternatively: who's who in third
person - there's always someone missing...
my alter-ego has to write an apology
for her... the aura of hostility is being multiplied...
forever dealing with a genesis story...
to have seen a mountain and the sea...
but this crown... this new-found-tooth:
yet to be a jaw...

i'll make an apology... i'll post her this link...
do i feel better:
what's there to feel better about?
even if i think i'm hardly the optimist desired
to only mind weather forecast prophecies...
over a pint-hour-long-conversation...

this is a reflection... but the reflex is already
a faux pas:
bull sees red... some porcelain gets
shattered on the hoof and snort of wet air...
there's a heart: but there's no glory of it
to be made into splinters of breadcrumbs
when extracted from a tabernackle...

      miasma... miasma...
          and metaphors of miasma...
                    otherwise: this congested traffic air
of plugged horn sections of an orchestra...
                the past or the part where i say:
someone was misunderstood...
someone clearly jumped to conclusions
too early...

       i was going to do something human today...
instead i opted for toying
with a robot that made pizza...
and over-seasoned the pizza sauce with
too much oregano...
           faulty "a.i."... back on the new found
glory wheel of replicas...

cheers! here's a hope to...
when two reflexes meet... spawning two reflections...

the only tragedy of what comes from
borrowed time - or the past -
however irrational the previous "few" were...
they still allowed us to carry through:
the W of a wHEN...
              they allowed us to carry a
H of hOW... and...
                                 there is not rhyme to bargain with...
the cess-pool of feverish breathing...
the insult of exaggeration from the propaganda
news... it's not even fake, as such...
it's just... cold cod and ambers...

                        if they were to be dying with
mushroom-esque sprouts of out-growth from
their foreheads... i'd be deemed the most interested
undertaker...
an apology is necessary... but i only spotted it
having written this "repudiation"...

perhaps that's what her comment was all about...
the hope for a beating heart...
this prospect of feeling...
i can't remember the last time...
anything of thought was worth
a cradle of genius...
or that anything felt was more than
a reflex... hell wouldn't want me to reflect on
certain matters...
hence the faux pas immediacy...

                    i was able to read: but at the same
time i was blinded by a rage that...
allowed me to feed a larynx replaced with
an impossibility of a heart...
and with the heart replaced with a larynx...
⠊       ⠎ ⠏ ⠕ ⠅⠑
                                        ⠃⠇⠊ ⠝ ⠙
no colons or dot dot dot included...
here's to me singing a karaoke in england
with the song: madonna's oh father...

           blind fool blind bid to pray...
if only... those forwarded gesticulations
of phatom were to be a gratification of relief
i were to be seeking...
handshakes with shadows and the dead...
eclipses of multiple suns
and a suitcase of words that cannot cross
borders beside the familiar pain of some later
posthumous translations...

what modern scientific discovery?
the ancients gave me the sound and its subsequent
meaning in how i connect it to
another sound and a subsequent meaning
and craft this umbilical chord...
this tapeworm this foetus of myself of
a future bound to a past...
wrinkles on a page...
a spilled picasso of coffee in some
variant of Rorschach...

                               most of the time i don't want
to be forgiven... to be forgiven is to be immediately
asking for an apology: a futile enterprise...
i'd just like to be understood...
take all the time in the world:
for that to happen... or 'appen...
we're dealing with surds that still retain
a status of a spell-check: you know...

                         there's that impossible moral
of this: anti-story...
         the comments section of an internet...
let me show you the sqm
of what it takes to resolve: a boot... leather belt...
strap... of extending enough of the shaved
hind of the snorkel of a pig in the shambo
of a blood-bath of a slaughterhouse...

                             all the best parts were and will
continue to be used...
               she called it a tirade:
i'm more prone to the self-laceration
of calling it a diatribe...
                         is this what promulgating
self-depreceating humor does to one's coordination
of: "it's at"?
                             this new breed of: there...
               and being...
            perhaps a focus on: that? clingy little shitstorm
of tomorrow's never new...

well...                      that's me...
asking to be forgiven is so futile...
       this clingy originariness of sin... more like:
replica - and... was that the originality of
individuation - the sin being...
the replica... the plagiarism...
                               that "unique perspective"...
the eventual monotheistic intra-personal "god?    
and later the democratic fizzling-out...
the diluted "god" of the... yawn...
inter-personal?
                
          the better half of me has already died
having written this...
the pivot of either half of me that was
ever going to be differentiated as good, or "evil"...
the challange of probing the mediocre...
i would always keep to retaining some
standards of cohesion...
grammar, spelling, arithmetic...

                   the skeleton requesting
a pickled jar of brains...
and some tendons and muscles to coordinate
itself as an early grave-risen:
                           shadow of a mollusk...
circus of words... the meadows of Edinburgh...
the ego as a minotaur...
thought as a labyrinth...

                             and the leftover...
the shop of porcelain...
           and the revised minotaur...
as a sphinx.

ever since i've quit smoking: beside those two
self-congratulatory puffs at the end of
each day...
                    more and more people are smoking...
in movies...
        they look so... content with
the stampede of the locomotive breath...
                interludes into 5 minute incissions
of absolutely dis-satisfaction...

                    4th of july... some variation
of independence day...
                      i'm planning to visit Loon'don...
for a sport of: zoology...
                i'll take a hubris and hiatus magic
pouch of liqour with me...
expecting: riots...
                  
        peacocks and pistachios...
            porcupines and pomegranates...
molotov cocktails and bagpies...
               i just want to see... oxford circus
yawn... i want to take the scenic route
of a promenade upon stepping off
the tube...
        perform the dull task...
of... window-shopping for mannequin
in restaurants...

    oh god... i'll have to trim my beard...
dissolve some sugar in water
and put it in my hair so: stick-ing anti-wind
gravitas...
             i'll walk this mistanthrope
on a leash of good riddles...
            i'll play the part of someone from
norwich...
    not someone from romford...
              Loon'don the tease from
Mashiter's Hill...
              plain as day: the sky-line in
my hungry eyes...
  almost towing a cow:
                  
         and of course i want to be seen...
how otherwise not so settle the matters
of sensibility...
of this ******-fest of: the obeying conundrum...
4 dada suicides: published by atlas press
in an edition of 1000 copies...
2005...
         what a fraction i do own....

        arthur cravan among the four...
the nephew or... some variant of...
related to... oscar wilde...
                 yes... the physiognomy
are a steal... in terms of what's resembled...

  i trip down: don't tempt me... memory
lane...
   world was I: and the war...
   the dada movement in Zurich....
   cabaret voltaire...
                        Geneva? well...
fast paced betting...
          live and try to not get rich...
something to get by... working for...
a loitering wage...
if you gave me... 2 tonnes of soil...
a tonne of gravel... and said...
3 hours...
                 fair-*******-afro-frenzy
    and enough...
         but "work" as a loitering...
                     what "lockdown"?
the neighbour finally put up a fence
after 15 years of her being implored...
the old roots and stumps had to be dug
up... all the way from
late february...
     a new shed... 13sqm of wimbledon
turf to admire and water...
                       i have to forbid myself
joy... though... in telling my maternal
grandfather: i've quit smoking...
    before he dies: and i pretend to wish
to grow old: i hope this happens...
this... carrier pigeon message is passed...

only today the bewildering... sacrilege...
i was watching: corpus christi...
2019... point being...
it was in my native tongue...
with english subtitles...
         i can't pretend...
   i was more eager to read the subtitles
than to listen to the "mother"
and the "father"...
      sure as hell and that they will die...
this language will die in the vicinity...
then within me...
who am i going to speak it to...
i can imagine... "30 years of and tomorrow"...
and i'll speak it:
zapomniejać mówienie po polsku...

russian interlude i'd call them...
i'll most certainly not me...
a lithuanian ****** miłoš....
              i have to arrive at the prospect...
i am not really arriving at
a country left... or a country arrived at...
"nation": ah ha!
                     siamese twin horror:
bilingual freaks...
             i was always told to shy
away from the concept of a diaspora...
unlike... the jew the italian...
the russian oligarchy...
                      and english...
what... i... made... of... it...

neu-concept...
              i... a pronoun category word...
some obnoxious... reflexive-reflective
quadratic of anti-narcissus...
i: a pronoun... perhaps...
but i as... king george minded...
i: verb!

                          i will take: will i?
i like the idea of the 4th of july...
the tokyo olympics...
that one event in the sport calendar...
when... i don't feel infringed...
with a body capacity to...
perform... a palé - i do have a body...
for greek wrestling...
antithesis judo...
but sure as **** a plethora of body shapes...
ping-pong table assured...
click-bait... without a tennis racket...
and that's why...
squash would have been a good
choice to join the olympic racket...
olympiaco(s) raquettes...

   lofty body builders... ant-worshipping...
not relevant though...
sprint a 100m...
climb 100m...
    clearly toned equilibrium bodies...
bouldering and baseball...
no squash...
     tennis is hardly an olympic
sport...
           it's a money sport...
it's a riviera elton john slim jr.
sort of sport...
football? it's a money sport...
rugby? it's a ******* sort of sport...
football is about as much
an olympic sport as...
a curse of a sneeze...
the only reason why brazil
staged the sporting affair was...
because they lost the world cup...
blah blah...

       squash should be an olympic
sport... why it isn't...
and forest ******* gump
can have his... ping(o)-pong(o)
   berlusconi parties: minus... tony blaire...
is all the reason to note...

hmm... blaire... white... that tehran
trans whizz kid...
   i see... no... no... absolutely...
not similarities... within the confines...
of... "a borrowed shadow" of...
   eva longoria...

i had the same plans for halloween...
the same plans for prague...
prague i can forgive myself...
mother has a hip-replacement...
and i'm all up-and-arms: ******...
like the good boy scout
buffalo billy-oh / geiny boy!

                to suffer from a lack of ****...
is not... to find jokes in language:
when one still has... itchy finger-tips...
"suffer"... and "lack of ****"...
best resolve... no clingy p.s.
             no... cuckoldry...
    the fabled ex-girlfriend of mine...
ex-....
   ****... how old am i? 34...
an ex- from... ah... ha ha... when i was 21...
prostitutes... a thai surprise...
and a black girl done at random
when i hosted my own birthday party...
with an art of an *** so tight...
i received a plum tattoo above...
where her coccyx decided to toy with
the... "art of mechnical reproduction"...

walter... "waterboy"... benjamin?
herowitz? i too had a really ****** surname...
like... ******... like stalin...
catholic ploy... take the best of the three given...
we also reserve an option of a fourth
when you... decide to... become...
confirmed... lucky for some atheists:
who have been... unlucky for me...

of the people that stayed...
    of the people that left...
             unlucky for me...
   those that left: didn't "leave"...
the australians...
            left and "left" and it's not like...
they came back speaking
total ******* cockney...

       it's not that i'm even confused...
"overwhelmed" with emotions...
that reveal themselves...
to have to be... perpetually... displaced...
post-modernist...
quack for doctor...
quasi for marxist astute!

                my ideal ex... rich girl...
one spare apartment in st. petersburg...
riches in novosibirsk...
      educated in england...
   look at me... i ****** a rich ****...
a prop'ah... rich ****...
a russian rich ****...
   not old english sloth dough...
not a reperations **** of worship
that choc-a-bloc-of-sowwy...
  a real... oyster binding with teeth
sort of libido... well! ha! lucky me!
for a ******! she's not a mongrel 2nd
class citizen of the turnip and tulip
and...
   beg R'ah-R'ah-Rhapso-silly-Pullin'-Tin!

you know... i can remember
the love at first sights in my life...
she... Ilona... i experienced in reverse...
two girls were trying to fry some
pancakes...
she hook and sinkered my iPod...
while i refined the idea of pancakes...
she looked like...
something the ugly duckling
would bully at... duck school...
filled her gob... smart...

        yeah yeah...
but i do remember all the times
i experienced love at  first sight...
and their names...
the best horror movie i would ever land
in being a critique for...

1. Milena...
                          2. Kot...
      i can't remember her name...
that's her surnane... she had...
                   two younger sisters... twins...
3. samantha... st. augustine's primary school...
4. janina (canon palmer... an ugly affair...
    i hoped i made reperations to...
joining art class and giving her a rose)
    5. gemma la porte...
  6. emma... a big... ******* sensation...
  7. let's just call her Sancha...
  irish girl... two years older than me...
still in highschool...
8. Isabella... the french psychology student...
and god begot: a loss of virginity...
   9. priya...
     who's the 6 / 7...
             the sister of my first girlfriend...
which would make... a 18 year old...
a pedohpile with a... 15? year old...
                      10. predates 4...
cameron diaz in the mask...
    11. is a cameflouge of Ilona...
my love at first sight in reverse...
if i stayed long enough...
i would have ***** myself to oogle
my eyes out and **** her like
some aria giovanni clone...
                big siberian nose...
her myopia and being plasyfully teasing
"short"...
yes yes... beside that... massive plum
bullseye...
        we must call that:
                wetted ****: seconds...
  
see... i have this cinema in my mind...
of first loves... loves at first sights...
more thirsts rather than thrills...
and... then i want to see Loon'don...
in zoological modus operandi...
i want to see...
    window-shopping for mannequins
of... sylvia plath borderline psychotic
shoelaces of soul...

         i want to shop for...
the agony confined to... raised eyebrows
and the confines of... all things made
easily extreme bound to ****** expression...
having to... self-lacerate...
before the pro-social cordial...
i want to see the future martians...
misantrophes... like-oid mois...

i can honestly be trusted with "love"...
call it the muse....
first sighting...
her moles her first trickled...
lob of the forgotten kiss...
the whirlwind thorough lintany...
her lapse in a guarantee of
ear lobes...
    like my... "shy"...
                  occipital lobe....
investigated by janina...
                                
                           that little light in a tunnel...
a summer in masovia... or mongolia...
or.. whatever is called...
crisp... and doughnut...
idaho... jeffrey: jeff'ohs "napoleon dynamite"...
    dahmer...
                                 mon'ghouls:
the goos of the freely rejected...
cousin Sib is no mal. and frying up
with word-blob Sah...
          -eria              contra...
bloat-zilla...                -ara...
                               death-stow genius no-no...
trans-nanny has an eastender melt-meow-down...
the opera goes: fly-be-fwee:
lucky luke and the fervour
of the force for a complete...
****-lawd comeback town: towwie...
gripping basics...
                       king jefffers...
and jaffa... and khalidha...
     and lay-tea-cia... milkin' dozens...
**** ****...
      ******* whapping 'inge...
                 cwy: rhapsody... remembers
to trill that Sysiphus... and -esque...
              
        ***** and blahs the world over
for...  solidarity of...
compensated vitriol...
       jeff is an ugly u(n)(c)kle...
jeff is a ****** loon:
serenity... theme park expactation
project: alpha 50.9...
     he's an an FM in frequence...
and best listened to:
when "reading was a thing":
typo... of digest...
a **** queen and ***** quag...

             calofornian subtitles...
ever since...
   ever since... a petty Hague and Hue...
european conquest of time...
and something akin to
h'america... and its louisiana purchase:
ratio no. 2!
fly-over **** Iowa...

  it's not like... croatia was...
the Balkans was such a small: and ditto:
afffair of... inbreeding folks...
lord: lowd and...
spandex 1980s Berlin to...
give revenue in all things
that catered in retaining...
a loathing of... pertained to...
CWISP...
                    trill the R who?
the french hark it...
the english... larp...
woebot... for every robot...
they... tarantulla tongue numb
that...

                 whyming...
RHYME-B'OH...
            ******* kings and queens...
it's the "united states":
having to annex the forntiers...
the annex
on conquistador...
velcommen mingling xo xo xo...

the "encrypted" sexuality
of a the concept of female hands...
misguided by the proportions...
best hid in a niqab...
but when exposed: pork meets...
buffalo-slingers...
no... arab / camel jockey hands...
are not beijing...
or ***... porcelein hands...
you could... **** a ******* camel neck...
and i am: the beck unfucked cockrel
you best wish: yawn-yacht...
you never never...
ever... called a forking...

   arab women have these fat
hands that black women...
would require... 12" of envy
a white anorexic would require of them...
to muster...
a blasphemy and... a kenyan litany...
some of that sort...
all i know...
jesus be all big with...
                   post-apocalyptic
protestantism in post-colonial...
"oops" of the 21st century...
          forgive i.e. tow what?

               how about...
i allow my grandfather a death
by demetia...
               and then i wait...
i wait for nothing...
or i wait for: "history"...
no... sooner i wait for...
the brothel... than this bollocking waste
of time of... frank zappa is...
burning up like...
            a heretic...
                    within...
a 1m sq. of a proximity to mecca!

how fortunate: the man with... none...
              how fortunate...
             the grievance of a man with so much...
to have to... find...
poker-dole... facing...
a man with the queen's penny...
i am a man worth of a queen's penny...
does that even become know...
respected...
for all the money grieved into
making up...
the honoruable citizens' tax invested:
"quest"...
i am... its last...
           radical... and...
                                     royalist...
i have to come...
with a parade of worded -ings
and thinning paroles!

                         this birth of a new:
a nation of fat-whips and bores!
              let me become inclined to leisure...
for the lost revelation of
a tenure of fiction!

what was "once" a female...
has "become" the homosexual...
what was "once"... the mother in law...
has now "become": the bridget...
and nuance shellshock...
               fraserburgh... kid-joy... ****...
an ode to: joe... the...
                       ben nevis and bon jovi
of... the... "nuanced"...
and...                 "pioneers":
all best reserved...
   for the alaskan and the louisina purchase...
and...
the lost told tide of...
the spaniards: arms...
goths... north africa...
reconquista...
conquistadors...
sooth talking some mayans
and aztecs into: "in-breeding"...
        miriad... moors...
gives us a tan... us... whitey loop holes...
  tanning with a mongrel
cocktail a mongol...
typo... tan ****-up tao...
tanning with tao...
tow tufu **** what?!
       beijing fwend a fwied deifying
pig loco?
vibes... first locomotive **** promo...
last fist comes first and thirst...
no... samuel beckett's sore...
so... sore n'oh m'aw...
   savvy... you... *******... gooseberry
savoured prim nancy?!

democratized and somehow made literate...
that's the game...
yet... i'm prone to wishful thinking...
any thinking is welcome...
lately it is all shrapnel...
i can't get a narrative out of my "egg" even
if i wanted the chickens to goose strut...
step... strut...
i know what i'll write will be a banality...
i just write in order to recognise myself...
amongst all the flurry and ghosts...
i promised myself i would write something
without summoning
katakana, Hangul... Cyrillic...
Greek...
   god forbid i summon the runes
or the Glagolitic script...
                fiery late Latin it is: in English...
even the Germans used diacritical distinctions...
oom-lout...
                  um? at the hairdresser today...
ha ha... a fiery plump blonde of a spectacle...
talking about patriarchs...
coming to Ing-Land aged 8...
not speaking a word... of the native...
i said i had a mental block...
i didn't... i remember the trials...
the tribulation... but of course...
children are excused from all sorts of troubles...
my intake of stress dried up...
you're a kid thrown into the deep end of the pool...
not speaking a single word...
once you do...
                        PUMA... a label...
the difference of pronunciation
stuck with me...
"apparently" it's not PU'M'AH...
it's PEW-MAH: PEU-MAH...
                 she became so interested in my life
story: her seemed more interesting
to begin with... that she cut my hair into a...
makeshift Mohican...
        
oh English is hard to learn:
we have so many words that sound the same
but are spelled differently...
so i rejoiced:
to two too...

             being the wordsmith that i am...
English has plenty more fiddly bits
to gather... it doesn't take a Samuel Beckett to...
Samuel Beckett... because of WATT...
is more fun to read: fun to read because
it's so ******* frustrating than...
Ulysses...
                 sowwy...

i will not conjure up the Korean script...
although i'm gagging to conjure it...
having just cooked beef ribs in a sweet...
Koreans love their sesame... don't they?
in a sweet sesame soy sauce...
the Koreans love their sesame...

i too thought it was weird: biTTer...
maMMal... doubling up of consonants...
but the Koreans also do it...
to hell with the ideograms of the Chinese...
serpents...
who needs a ******* wall like that
when you have a phonetic encoding
akin to... turning chop-sticks into shoelaces!
no one is going to attack that!

it's like... attacking the Chinese ideograms
with the Western emoji...
or the ancient Egyptian hieroglyph!
impossible!

i can stomach i can understand
the Korean Hangul...
or the Japanese katakana...
eh... Thai... Vietnamese...
it's not... oh i'll eat the food...
but the language doesn't... irritate me...

somehow... strangely... the day is complete(d)...
the moon is seemingly hovering
in a: disputed distance of 570...
the world is adjourned...
by some relapse into sports mentality with
the Ryder cup...
         hey presto... missing the hole
in yo ** **... highlands!
              gerbil attack: my second to none:
wish for praise...

the best "thing" to succeed Depeche Mode
had to come from Russia...
all "manner" of electronic music
had to come from Rye-sh-ah...
no?

it truly bothers me, the ******* i watch:
you'd expect visiting a brothel would
leave you... "advantageous" enough to replicate
these... movies...
no... the prostitutes... i'll call them
prostitutes rather than ***-workers...
are... pretty much... uniquely: pristine...
terribly conscious with regards to personal
hygiene: i like that...

what i know and what little i know
i know best...
******* is...
well: i'm put off by most of it...
i need to scale it down to...
Italian classics... the idea of ****
horrifies me & my sensibilities...
the ******* i sometimes come across...
i rather snoop around some ***** flicks
to catch a drift of some tenderness...
but all that... face-*******
****... n'ah... it's not like i have
restrictions "guessing":
am i about to father a child?

in the good old days...
under the Roman Empire...
fatherhood of... the brood that wasn't your
own was common...
among the rich...
if i had the money... sure..
Step: Stephen... wholesome... moi...
but.... down the "lineage"?
of trickled down wealth?
n'ah... n'ah: ah...

                 w;ah?

perhaps REM had that song: night-swimming...
if i could write a song it could be
something along the lines of...
   night-cycling... esp. in winter... gloves, long sleeves,
t-shirt... jumper...
a wooly hat...
and... U2's electrical storm (the william orbit mix)...

what was once a Thai trans-gender phenomenon...
transcendental-genderism...
the Thai-surprise... emerged in the west
like some, language restrictions...

fair enough when the transition period
ends up convincing me,
but what if i can't call a "hammer" a 'hammer'?!
what then? am i supposed to pluck my
eyes out, lie to myself...
if a trans-male passes off as fuckable,
if a trans-male passes off as attractive
to the opposite ***...
fair game... open season...
but if that's not the case... let my just
amputate by ******* phallus...
raise it in the air and swing it like some
raw deal mr. *****... for ****'s sake...

so much for mere burning bras...
if this subject matter has its recurrence gravitas...
i think i'll just stop merely thinking,
and writing: altogether...
it was fair enough when the Thai lady-boys
did it... but those Thai lady-boys,
those Thai-surprises didn't invest themselves
in changing language:
i can see authentic dysphoria when i see it...

don't change my language: ergo....
i will not change your feelings, decisions to change
your preferred ***...
the ancient Greeks had a notion of reincarnation...
they deemed men reincarnated as women
as lesser creatures, a form of punishment...

if reincarnation is to be minded: well, originally,
there are only a fixed number of individuals
that pass from one life to another,
the rest are just zombies...
parasitical souls... host bodies...
there's currently a backlog of reincarnations
taking place... it's almost like we're living
in times where the last judgement is taking place...
in the metaphysical realm...
hence we're noting all these... outlier concerns...

"concerns"...
if the topic wouldn't creep up, i wouldn't be
writing about it, but the topic infringes on my language...
gender neutral pronouns, which were already
available via the Royal One and the Royal We,
for ****'s sake! for ****'s sake!

one ought to...
we ought to...
                 what about languages that employ
noun distinctions via: a masculine form, or a feminine form?
i know that English (as a language)
doesn't apply these distinctions...
can't a chair be masculine?
you can't rid certain languages of... "sexing up" their nouns...
it's inherent in them... that's why this
lineage of argumentation is so successful
in the English speaking word... grammatical bypassing
techniques...

it;s like a pet peeve...
but... there's winter...
(a) you get drunk quicker,
(b) you breathe cleaner air, air so clean you almost choke
(c) the insects are hibernating
(d) the trash doesn't stink
(e) people are dulled, lullabied into submission...
(f) the nights are longer
(g) you get to employ the use of pockets more
often, not to hide items of interest,
more... to shelter your hands,
should you not be equipped with gloves...
(h) snow, if, any...
(i) the moon entertains the night sky more often,
more so than in summer,
it's the winter sky riddled with constellations...
+ the moon....
evidently missing during the spring or summer
months...
opaque nights, when the moon is absent...

some (j)? maybe.... pull me up before i decide
to drown....

i better be doing the duties of chores,
than merely lounging...
women live a waste of tine....
my mother best invoked...
if i can't invest in my mother,
i can't translate that to a woman
i'd ****... period...
whatever, seriously, whatever...
time's up!

  language ambiguity...
there's either a formal rule of language...
or there's an informal rule of language....
some schizoid framework...

i want to rub my hands together...
i want to make fire from friction..
i want to doubly desire a skeleton...
i want to "hush"... rather... breathe into my cusp
of hands to warm them up...
  
pouring cold water onto cold hands...
it sometimes makes them feel:  warmer...
god... girls... even 50+ with fringes...
then again: i prefer pixie girls
with short-hair... but that's just me...
toy bring toy...
**** it... let's play the proper sort of games!

ha ha... Alexander Dumas taught me one thing,
and one thing alone:
don't give advice... some people will regret it...
Alexander Dumas or... Athos, Oliver Reed...
how "they" treated this poor drunk when he was
shying away from his prime...
little, suffocating, sociopaths...
   little people, terrible people... somehow...
"necessary" people...
i'd die twice to be thrice honest...
i'd live this once... to...
    ensure everyone lived it so, under their disguise
of individual rights...
best be left, forgotten...

coaching packages, blah blah... just, *******, swim...
or... better... take up bicycling!
Athos or Aramis? Athos.... but i'm renowned to be prone
as the joker, team player... a Porthos...

ugly truths... i also fancied a richard chamberlain...

you don't come against my use of language
without consequences...
a Thai surprise is one thing,
but telling me, what i ought and ought not say?
is another... i will raise Adolf & Satan himself
should you overbear your concerns:
which are no concerns to begin with!

don't tread on eggshells that become
hostile objects! keep me in mind, don't leave me out
on hostile grounds... you want to go home,
i want to go home, there's a football match taking place...
appease me, while i tease you... let's pretend i'm
in a position of authority...
let's, just, pretend... savvy?

thank god for my figure... 6ft2... 98kg.. a beard... i might just look menacing enough, when the park has been emptied... that's the reception i got, from the faces in the crowd... they read: i saw you in my dreams! i liked that...

i forgot about love a long time ago,
i forgot about being endearing to toddlers,
even though, i can't tell them apart to cats, or dogs...
it was almost a pleasantry to forget about love,
i don't think i want to experience that
uprooting of sensation...
i don't want to feel loved,
the sensation of feeling loved would...
weaken me...
i don't want to feel being loved...
i like this... impartiality of the impersonal...
it leaves me with a three-dimensionality of a a person...
what good is love,
when you can't trust someone?
what good is love,
when you can't... be assured?
what good is love...
when it's only mitigated via
being loved: rather than also: loving?!

i curse these days!
so seemingly pristine! best they be kept
forgotten!
there's no love here...
at least there's minding a civil obligation...
but love?!
i can't be ***** into loving someone,
whatever trans-racialism is invoked...
you want me to **** a man
pretending to be a woman?!
no thank you...
you want me to **** an African woman
pretending she's Asian?
what, you're going to inject me with
some Sildenafil? am i to receive an
"auto-correct" hard-on, for ****'s sake?!

the war is staged... it's not yet physical...
come on... it's still in its infancy... wait a while..
give the chess pieces a moment to somehow
"reflect" on their re-coordinated repositioning...
wait a little... it takes time...
me being ******* is no clear assumption that
things will turn awry...
it takes time, dedication, repetition of already
stated mistakes...

wait a little... live a lot...
come to think of it... if they, "they" gave me a rifle...
tomorrow... i think i'd be bound to being found as:
trigger-happy... sowwy... i think i could... i would be...

oh but i'm pretty sure this current zeitgeist of politico has already ******* a wrong type of crowd... the schizoids & the psychotics... if i'm on board, if i'm being receptive to, their sentiments and i think them bogus... n'ah... n'ah ah ah ah, ah... sorry... this will not pass, not even: nicht sogar mich! not even me!

as a man in Warsaw:
i feel like a fox in London...
as a man in Warsaw
i feel like a fox in London...

why do crows only fly in pairs over the skies of
England... why do they,
flock on the continent, in swaths,
in such numbers as to secure them
the stature of intimation?
as if, Barbarossa is to be resurrected?