i understand: it takes time...
it probably takes so much time (in fact)
that the time needed
has to be allocated
to a post-mortem...
with regard to what?
readership!
one example is nibbling at
30-thousand views...
30-thousand...
i'll use cricket before football...
the full capacity at Lord's
stands at 28-thousand...
i passed that by eager
readers alone...
i didn't have to utilise
a stage and perform all
regurgitating nervousness upon
it... spill my guts...
no, i'm still strapped high-up
in my "ivory tower"...
it helps to inquire into
what it is the hell i have
"accomplished"...
it takes time, though...
i would sacrifice everything to not feel
this immediacy of "passing"...
of leaving something readily
available for scrutiny: for audience...
me and making a video...
not enough wine
for what i'd want to entertain with:
no exasperated staging of
ooh: ah... etc.
there's never ever enough wine
for what's absolutely necessary...
but what has to be surrendered to is
this measure of dimensions...
a single poo'em of mine
managed to attract an audience
that... if ever the Lord's cricket
stadium could fill...
then England would have to be
guaranteed to win the Ashes...
ashes? some idiosyncratic tournament
that only matters on these isles...
it takes time though:
i appreciate the fact that i can leave
something freshly
archaeological...
let's brush this notation
under the carpet... /ˌɑːkɪəˈlɒdʒɪk(ə)l/
it simply... quite simply doesn't work
on a bilingual...
it truly takes time:
of which i know so much
of so much i know so little but also know
that space can sometimes diverge from
time...
time can diverge from purpose
when the purpose of 5minutes is
to boil a runny yoke egg in a shell...
lately i transcended the bully
of a poached egg: perfecting it...
but having to sorrow myself
over overdoing the soft yoke
egg in a shell: prim-ready to be
poked at / dipped into by
toasted bread slithers of
"soldiers"...
i distrust words that gravite
toward grand events
of which they are not part of...
even if Homer was a cook
in the Trojan...
he evidently wasn't going
to be either Achilles or Ulises...
spare a thought:
if i were to go back in time
would i go back as a "plagiarist"
writing Shakespeare before
shaking-the-pear was...
well: i i left behind something
from this time,
i'd probably leave much more
than a wince than what
some original arrived at
having it kept thus...
against what's kept
and can't be "invigorated" or denounced...
claustrophobic i
having to weave around this...
it is raining
and i'm only happy because that's
not important and because
i'm listening to Beethoven's
ode to joy on my earphones
and there's no gramophone
no opera house to usher
in an addition of volume...
egregious: no alternatively wiping my
own ***:
etymologically... egregious...
best in deutsche: for comparisons...
ungeheuerlich -
yes.. the usually assorted "oops"...
because that's how best to invest
in "looking back"
at structures such as words:
one minute an atom...
a word a brick...
then fudge or custard...
of spinach-spew...
octopus fiddly.. fickle and
morose: which could be a colour
code - associated with maroon...
or...
claret...
which is less diarrhoea onomatopoeia
than: any: syllable:
scrutiny...
or excess vowels with, borrowed,
ancient Pompeii and mt. Vizu-Visu...
it takes time and sometimes
it doesn't... luckily for me i'm banging on
prospect for: when i'm... ash...
god and no god...
dog to the leash...
cat held by a whisker's get-funny... va!
something terrible might happen
should very little be written...
i exact conscience (at idea: no
practice involving moral dichotomies:
if such could be allowed
to exist)...
on a small matter of:
purpose without perpetuation...
solo project scrutiny...
Lenin i suppose was no *******
Mongol...
Tartar... or Uzbekh:
heaving mother superior
and... the nibble of the Caucaus...
loot Siberia i still say...
even if salt is elemental in what's
required for food to transcend mere
animal...
if the sub-continent of India
was not sourcing gold etc.
then it had the spices...
blue indian spices
the mile up the skyline of Doha
or Dubai couldn't conjure...
for time and extending into...
the crest...
"they" kept them counting teeth
and pearls and praise for
their advanced cuisine...
not much can be said
about the raw dough of the Cherokee...
can it?
it would it must be necessarily
allowed or ****-faced forced into
a cook...
they survived basing their strategy on
their cooking...
perhaps the whole Hindu
reincarnation dog-in-a-kennel worked
but i'm pretty sure
fenugreek and cardamom and
that plethora of spices worked more
miracles
around a broken elbow than...
Tibetan raw dough surprises...
lick this spoon, ******, Xi;
being dragged into the salt mines
an echo of.... EL-EVEN!
EL-EVEN!
- i can't find enough i what's enough
to be "trusted" / yielded
of an exasperation tactic
at best made summary within the confines
of a "haiku":
the wine is drunk... raw...
like a pepper or an onion might be
eaten.. raw...
no spices are added...
there's so much less of what's allowed
a breath and a living that might
gravitate toward a wage...
- toward the fore of death's grinding
grip... knuckle-counting
a clench that's a pear of a fist: too...
i heave a breaking of the tooth:
to craze for the marrow of bone(s)...
words to instruct:
stare widzi... mi... sie...
contrasting contractions of:
pospolite anglo-saskie...
bed the widow...
call her the ****** of Aquitaine...
call "her" otherwise
the nibble and tonsure sheath...
upon the altar
of the tongue the uvula
und bell...
ripe bleu tender meat:
warm ***** and well-done
doubly-butchered beef...
Wittgenstein & tautology vs.
the thesaurus...
red wine: for getting drunk: purpose
solved... raw carrots for
fluorescent teeth: for teeth that apparently
might glow with a tinge
of lavender in the dork-poise of:
exfoliation of schatten...
concentrated balsamic vinegar...
allowed a "hightening"
with a dash of: dzius: juice:
herbivore diet: peel me
a grape like than mythological blonde
jazz shinger...
tells you to: whip(ping) cream readied...
something about linear B:
like it might be cryptic and no one knows:
true:
few have, interest in this...
falling asleep to christopher young's
hellraiser soundtrack...
yes... so much effort for the otherwise
blaise
"omelette" / shrivel of a floral bouquet
of a worth of ****...
like it might shrivel and god-forbid
a karma sutra excavation
of ***** envy... in reverse:
coalmining ****** giggle...
she 'as a trout's worth of a length
& elbow... still she's screaming
******* und... creaming softest juice
parody pairing... with a poaching
of pears...
for the dog that's allowed to befriend
a leash...
a cat's must: concerning a pillow...
a grain of a mother's mother...
grand as prefect...
for no purpose other than...
making summary.
