The coordinated conjunctions know they have the advantage against
all other conjunctions.  I mean, let's face it.  The other conjunctions are just spastics.

every single time, i'm like Ezra Pound at the end of
the cantos: may god forgive what i have made...
every, single, time... people i've known had
established families, had babies...
  and here i am asking to be forgiven having written
    an arsenal of verse... and asking to be pardoned for it...
the reason why world war II happened is because
the factions of world war I looked like they were cousins...
   they were! the reason why world war I happened
is that the powers at be were cousins,
children or grandchildren of queen ant Victoria...
all about-to-be-gouged-out fish eyed...
           world war I was a truly family affair...
don't know why it happened,
and i find even less reason to remember it
other than to prescribe monarchical power
for no power but mere pomp...
             i envision world war I as the classical framework
of warfare...
        world war II spelled out guerilla... a sort of thing
that didn't allow for state-visits...
           the great form of ******, that's what i call
world war I... world war II?
         a war of proxy... the Jews were the mediated
proxy ensemble...
              and i hate the fact that i can speak these
facts, or "facts", having the historical sofa...
  when saying such facts required a testy iron maiden's
worth of comfort...
                  the husbands of England...
charles I: beheaded... charles II: froliced having a libido
                                             of a fungus...
charles III: reigned for 24h...
            William IV: yawn... wish ***** Harry had
a shot at it... and by that time David Attenborough
was sniffing daisies from the roots up...
      while Clint Eastwood lived to be
                  one-hundred-and-thirty-five: spinsters of
the spaghetti ageing rhapsody for drawing evens
or 21 in jerking-jack.
               on the question of families...
we best look tailored as mum son and uncle,
father, grandad and auntie on the canvas of
a photograph... beyond it? ****** jokes...
       but then people who'd we wish to have interact
with also own about 20 chickens, a goat
and a barn that suggests we filter potato juice
against the hay for whiskey...
          but sure, sure, it makes sense...
    by urbanising people we feel not need to commit to
******... o with that barbarian practice of
selling Bulgarian brides at the cotton-smith market...
          i mean: apes inbreed almost everyday...
you see any spastics about? must be paradoxical,
hum-hmm-hum.       and that means:
barely any questions are needed.
                       but sure... world war I has a family affair...
i'll actually applaud ****** for doing away from
the monopoly of aquarium eyed inbreds that gave
us world war I... they were ******...
             back in Russia the Tsar looked like
the Kaiser of Germany, that looked like the King of England...
                     then some Serbian terrorist lit the sparkler
and all **** broke loose...
          cousin Vlad ****** tante Anne who in turn
            ***** the prudish third in line to the English throne
Beatrice...
            it only took, one blimmin' family to usurp Europe
and engage it in world war I...
               it took the same family to create the treaty
of Versailles and instigate the populism of alter
Marxism to craft the conscript papers for world war II...
but thankle gott for the Wehrmacht uniforms...
uber cool, uber zoo, uber zex... ßteit! prudence J. Austin!
          it only took one family...
and still world war I didn't invigorate the establishment
of Israel...
                      some say that was a worthy cause...
to have established Israel...
                   it meant the Jews disappeared from Europe
and we invited the Moshe Moshe mules of Ishmael...
                    sure... the Iron Curtain disappeared,
Pope John Paul II sold the harem of Eastern Europe...
and we became engaged in a new curtain... the ninja...
or what's already apparent the fluttering guise of
the ninja... the niqab... self-explanatory, in a sense:
no need to call it a curtain.

“When ignorance is bliss,
Tis folly to be wise”.

I’m a fascist,
Whenever, I can’t make up my mind.
I’m a fascist,
Whenever, I anger those around me.
I’m a fascist,
Whenever, I mumble and my thoughts aren’t heard
I’m a fascist,
Whenever, smiling faces are
disconnected.
I’m a fascist,
Whenever, I memorise another useless number but not the answer to the sum.
I’m a firing squad leader,
Whenever, I see the slobbering Spastics.
I’m a firing squad leader,
Whenever, I read the slobbering spastics minds and I’m millions.

I see it,
Through the same alien eyes,
But I feel
no sympathy.
I would gladly command the firing squad,
Upon those who don’t have to exist,
I would leave my own child to the wolves if it were such.
So I could smile,
In my solo fish tank,
But without seeing my reflection in the glass.

I beg you,
Lend me no book,
Make it, instead, a log,
To keep the fire warm.

beer, as i discovered, is about as crucial to marinade meat as is salt and olive oil... especially when tenderizing pork... esp pork...

now pork, i do know:
unlike chicken or beef...
only recently i found out
that a quick Turkish marinade
with some Sumac
rosemary... rosemary?!
yes: apparently beef
works just as well with rosemary
as does lamb...

i don't understand the monotheistic
**** of logic against pork
maybe all that dehydration have
those "sputnik bros"
the wrong kind of hallucinations
maybe the rest of us are
forgiving of the sand people too
much:

but sure as **** Islam wasn't born
a heritage implosion
of Judaism:
Islam was born from having
to antagonize Christianity:
in the sentiment of:
Christianity begot waging
war of images against words
and Islam was born with a reply:
to wage war with words against
images...

pork i can understand:
how to marinade the beast...
tenderize it... succumb to:
the oink and the cartilage
in hoofs in nails
in ears in tail:
the most economic animal known
to man: in terms of edibility:
which is why these sand-people
seem so strange to
be so loved up in Kentucky
bird flute playing the flu
i don't get this backwardness...
this critique of god
it's almost like a gimmick
to show god and the people befriended:
so... these lunatics do realize
that: you couldn't possible
raise a piglet farm in the desert:

they do realize that Europe
was once a forest
and uprooting trees and turning the former
forest land into arable pasture
was not exactly...
what's the word: waiting in the desert
tending to camels spitting in your eye
blah: it wasn't super easy...
and yet the pig gets the brunt of the burden
of: weird people:
super weird people...
at least the Chinese with their atheism
and a lifetime of catching up
to the European fascination with
the Egyptians: but
what other written script out of Africa?
can we be summoned to the judgement:
well in part the westerners of the continent
but are we to blame for
how loudly Nigerians speak:
simply because they had no concern
for scribbling down the sounds that they
made and conjured up letters?

ooh look at me: i'm about to google
a politically correct... for fool's gold
if i didn't come across any African alphabet
until i already bypassed hieroglyphs then
what the **** am i expecting?
ideograms? Katakana syllables?
Korean thingy-ma-jigs?

          talking to Muslims and about Pork
is a bit like...
talking to someone about arachnophobia
holding a tarantula in your hand...
talking to Jews and pork is non-essential
since those other ancient spastics of the desert
finally succumbed to some variation
of liberalism on the culinary front
and in the most extreme scenarios the ones
that still to a pork-phobia
are the inbreeding types who wrestle
with having a state:
but not making statehood crux
of military service because of: "religious studies"...

******* camel jockey pork-phobia:
so blind that they see the letters
but can't hear the sounds:
like my latest fetish for the dentist:
like: it really was the antithesis of getting
a *******
and getting trimmed by a barber:
i got all tingles...
some man: two to be exact...
putting their hands into my mouth
wearing latex gloves...
it was like the perfect anti-******* *******...
so much so that i geared up
for the event by jerking off to
some ***** flicks with pregnant women:
god i love a good video where
a pregnant woman gets pleasured:
because:
if i was in the capacity to get a woman
pregnant:
i'd like to think what my allowances were:
could i **** her with that fetus inside her
or just all oral i mean i don't know:
just wearing a ring finger makes me think
all **** thinks all things godly and forbidden
and that's not even me contemplating
hell
because that's the one place were people
are there so sadomasochistic ends meat: meet...

boo hoo...
** ** **... Santa some variant of Satan's Clause...
i just don't understand why
this special spastic treatment of people
who fear eating pork...
clearly we are not literate
but imitation monkey: clapping:
that's not reading that's not:
it's just i say yo echo! echo! echo sounds!
baritone: get back to me later...
echo pork porky porky pi in the iota of sigma kappa
gamma... since: not real why-i-y...
but there's the j... which is sort of the antonym
of the sound enshrined in Y: Jive: hive:
yew: jew...

imagining a cannibal transported to a world
of vegan fetishes:
oat milk, dairy free: not eating poultry abortions
of eggs:
no cheese: no milking of the cow:
just rubbing firmly at a cucumber
to get some motivational juices out...
getting a haircut: primal instinct...
clearly we're not literate, collectively...
just because people can do more with signature
beside an X is
algebraic proof that: but people still adhere
to stupid ordeals of time-framed intellect
of progress that worked: for a time:
but have become: outdated and: this is no way
to live: this life of antagonizing pork
because somehow you can't be
the next sheep-******* and camel jockey
Don Muhammad
with an Envy of Solomon's Harem...

               lucky for me that i started basking
in the sexuality of a post-****** creature
now i don't have to worry about
unexpected pregnancies lock-me-up Scotty... spot...
Polka: that's dot dot... dot dot dot... dot...
now i just have to worry about a prenup
and...
well i was serious:
if i'm going to test hallucinogenic mushrooms
somewhere in a field in a meadow
in a forest enclosure:
i will need to sample the anti-thesis of Dune
or Dune proper
and ingest a tapeworm...
if i'm going to test hallucinogenic mushrooms
i need to bio-hack my consciousness
and create a trinity of me:
a tapeworm and a mushroom: fungal growth
of consciousness...

i am: deadly serious...
dope state deep of: my van Gogh is getting
the proper revisionist treatment of:
2nd attempt at seriousness:
first time it was all **** naked faking...

i still don't understand this prominence of
the desert people
and the literal obliteration of the forest people
of the Amazon...
because: clearly: the Europeans were living
in an area: this readily presented as the arable
breadbasket...
chisel the African man started rapping
blah blah bli bli blue blue blood:
but!
at least he converged and living among us
started to wear our clothes
and completely obliterated the stronghold of
classical music constipation with jazz
while the Muslim did: what?

but if it's all so bad
then why live among us why attempt
to intellectually clone as
as an extension of your repertoire of red flags?
why be so adamantly critical of god:
why would god be so critical of pig
if you laugh because English
is a language of mirror: GOD with DOG
and Allah: well: not exactly
symmetrical like YHWH when you think of
it: just LLH and that looks *******
****... **** beyond hope of not looking ****...
so...

m'eh...            pork pie!