"Sorry, Austin...not for us...Best with it."**

"Four Verses of Inexpressive Groaning,
and 15 Ughs to be Sung in Beethoven's 9th. "

Ughghghgh.
Ughyughghg.
Eighghghgugh.
Myeeeghghg?

Eeehghghg...­
Myegghghugh.
Ghghghghg.
Huhhghghg?

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.
Shrug- eh?
Uhhhmmm...
Eghghghghg....

Myughghghg...
grughghghg.
Gaaah...­?
Blughghg.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

We are a wretched and gruesome thing.
A night of drinking and swimming and fun,
suddenly becomes tense
with the touchy mention or exchange of a few words.
Suddenly fists are flying,
thuds of body shots and the 'ughs' of an *** kicking,
float out into the night.
Like wolves frothy for a ****,
the crowd goes ape **** wild,
oafish Baboons fawning over first blood,
the male rivalry and crowd roar is overwhelming,
nauseating.
We feel small next to the vortex of the mob mentality,
turned graphic depiction of reality.
You can sit in your perch observing,
in comfort and safety, as the the ten seconds pass,
as one brute raises his fists, while the other gasps for air,
cringing on the ground.
Whoops and calls and victory chants,
high fives and chest bumps,
and I feel a lump in my throat.
I'm physically ill,
at the inhumanity, gluttony, pride, and malice
all drunkenly converging in a whirl wind **** storm of testosterone and Bud Light.
Violence, with no cause,
is just madness.

Start by closing my eyes,
let me take a breath,
step back,
and brace myself,
you might as well take a seat,
for me to say anything,
such is a feat,
pausing as I envelope,
lungs expand,
contract,
release,
I hope my mouth can put into words,
the thoughts that circle my brain,
stutters,
"ughs",
"ooos",
nothing of form,
I'll stop once more,
k let my try this again,
I can see the feeling,
thick like fog,
but how to convey,
look at my clock,
seconds pass,
57 since I said a word,
58,
59,
****,
I'm so nervous,
just let the words out,
a slip of the tongue,

"I".....
another pause,
but the attentions grabbed,

"Im"...
keep going,
you've got it now,
press forward,

"Im sorry"...
the gates open,
water floods,

"Im sorry for the pain,
I was an ***,
I was to blame,
I can see my mistakes,
but its too late,
I'm sorry my love
for my love wasn't enough,
hence I was fragile,
as not to break,
but you broke me down,
I can't repair,
I'll never forget,
I'm sorry I'll wait,
for you,
whether you know it or not,
alone I'll sit,
along with the quant,
humble my breath,
I know I'm to BLAME,
I'm sorry I didn't put the smile on your face,
even though you gave me the chance,
a thousand times,
once and again,
I hope your happy as a clam,
just answer me back,
you need not feel the same,
I wait for your response,
just a remark,
to know I am heard,"

but when I open my eyes
to see your face,
this face I love,
alas Im alone,
with no one to be heard,
just a second to late.

always the lactephiliacs, never the cows / always the milk drinkers, never the mongrel eaters of coco puffs; bridesmaids ahoy!

i have absolutely no idea
as to happened in
the past 10 minutes...
  but it did...
        news of a sweet
  *******
hanging himself from
a well established group:
oh **** me,
back in the day, me and my
friend sam used to pretend
being punks and skateboarders,
we'd head to the RM1
nightclub and go mental
on metal and alternative rock
music,
   and then walk back
from romford to ilford,
singing *backstreet boys' song
forgetting to take the bus...
so yeah, under-age drinking,
sticky floors,
       mushrooms growing out
the ******* ceiling, the whole
dalmatian...
      given the drunken eye
it used to remind of:
   is that a cow barking,
      or am i ******* hallucinating?
no, i swear, that dog
just mooed!
   so why is that moon still up
in the sky?
   death pulling a joke with
                       its scythe sceptre?
the holy grail in the other
hand, consisting of an emptied
cranium...
  in my version of shakespeare
   of hamlet
yorick wouldn't be found seeking
"narcissus" talking to a skull:
   he'd be drinking wine from it!
what? god conjures
   parasites, man conjures dracula -
what's the problem,
    at least the former is just itchy-weird
while the former: oh **** me:
           zee makaber-romantik!
- but just now i started
looking at a youtube video:
thank **** i didn't get into
the community of making videos...
it's like revisiting a schoolyard
   playground:
watching these recent videos
is like telling yourself:
where was i when i should have
been watching
the english soap opera of eastenders;
where was i?!
              evidently not glued
to a t.v. like  that scene
from a clockwatch orange...
                  it's when people
get together that all hell breaks
loose...
  and yes,
    i'm one of the "cis" men who
can't believe that blaire white
is transexual... argument?
she's not a thai / brazilian surprise...
those ***** (pretty) boys
can pull a quick one on someone
like trainspotting's begbie...
  i must have said this before...
   well, i'm making time for
not being of the sort of people that
watched soap opera...
             about a fictional east-end...
i have the east-end of everywherer,
the internet!
               incy wincy spider came along
came along to a portion
of his web, sat down with a fly,
looked at the example and said:
forget our previous hierarchy,
i'll play the lion,
you play the hyena -
         these two are just about ripe
for zombified-dentistry of
biting the larynx;
but in all honesty,
   looking at the internet and the content
i sometimes watch,
   i could have been high-brow
about not watching the soap
opera eastenders...
   but now i'm in the mud within
the internet orientation...
   it was bound to become
just that...
                 thank **** for
producing content that is
not-passive, and can be absorbed while
falling asleep;
but still that image of a grown
man all the more
   pleased, to drink a cold glass
of milk upon waking up,
and not needing that ugh of all ughs
that's a "compliment" of corn flakes,
or shredded wheat cereal...
  milk on its own is just fine...
   i know that i'll turn my ****
into a geyser with a chili powder accent;
which is something you'd
probably call: **** *** in reverse.