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sometimes, no, almost always: you need to feel like
a tool, to feel you're alive!
for the greater good, for the higher purpose....
so long i attempted a solo project:
and what did that bring me? despair!
no more!

manchmal, nein, fast immer: du brauchen zu
fühlen wie ein werkzeug, gefühl du bist leben!
für die / der(?) größer gut, für die höherzwieck...

die zeppeline ar kommen!
die zeppeline ar kommen!
            even if i could express some things in English...
i would most certainly substitute them with:
a historical bias of etymology...
they're called the Anglo-Saxons for a a reason...
they're not called the Anglo-Swabians...
or the Anglo-Pomeranians...

i'm no ******* native, at best i could pass off as
a spy... for whom? open answers... anyone
& everyone... working a football match ground:
i'm pretty sure there's a hierarchy of those involved...
i like this indoctrination ito how things, "things" work...

i will speak, try to, German whenever i think
the English language has done a "runner" scenario...
when the minority is overtaking the majority...
we can't have minority subjects of the crown subjugating
the majority of the crown to their ******* "instigations"
of law revisionism...
can we?
        
             i will drift into vaterzunge from time to time...
because... speaking English in England is...
hardly enough... learning some Romanian helps....
some Serb might too... but my most prized asset
is... writing some gibberish in Deutsch(e)...

for me it's a learning curve... to boot....
i stroke my beard, pretend to plasy a violin...
everyone's happy... they get to go home safely....
while i get enough hours of drinking and writing
to satiate my hunger for...
the sort of conversations i will, never, ever have with others:
rather, i will have to have them with, myself:
within the confines of myself ...

beard.. patriarch figurine... i love it... it's so little, yet it's so much....
when in ***** i was referred to a woman as a man...
mind the man, insert a girl's name...
i think i became a man... overnight...
prior to i was invisible... prior to i had
merely ***-bush decorating my face...
apparently no stubble...
now... now i look somewhat presentable,
formidable... authority stricken....
even though i'm still merely a pawn...
sure... but a pawn with a narrative...
look at me... why am i so content?
perhaps... because i'm living in split platitudes...

whatever the reason.... i'm not the drunk cowering
in his foothills of his own demise at a bus-stop,
i haven't eaten since 1:30am... i'm devouring a two piece
chicken, fries & drink very much sober, waiting
for the ladt bus to take me home...

i worked, even though working didn't feel much like working...
just minding the spectators...
i'm a bachelor... i'm freed from obligations...
i write sparingly, in my spare time...
if i'm not happy... then i shouldn't be alive... period...
i also allow myself to drink excessively...
i could be dead come tomorrow,
and you know what?
i might blink... "think" otherwise...
but, at the same time, would i really, have to?

my answer resounds within the echoed confines
of... NO.

for all the excesses of compliance...
submission to a hierarchy,
i would have never, thought myself, being:
a compliant pawn...
then again... when implored with the stature
of "mandatory":
to put on a face mask while using public transport...
sorry... no...
once upon a time...
die *******... die...
of the people that most espouse Darwinism...
seeing them cower from the harsh realities
they have discovered is... rather...
heartbreaking...
no... by the number, you will die...

i ca comply, sure, to a certain extent...
but you try to put that secular niqab muzzle on
me... choke me with "pretend"
like i'm sort of waiting to be a dying horse...
while the staff perform action Z to my "X"...
you have another "thing" coming...
**** with your compliance...
i like to keep things under the cushions...
but... cushions are missing...
i'm done playing along with "your" narrative...
mandatory is one thing...
another implies: i feel... choked by the donning
of the supposed fakery...
bake me a loaf! you ******* integers! of pseudo-fact!

no one in position of authority is going around
checking chokers...
some good-to-go bypass citizens will approach you
with concerns... blah blah... ignore them....

time for "authority" is over... time for... everything "else"...
is most certainly upon us;
try to not mind the quote is... fire! fire! shouted by a clown
in a crowded theatre!

wemb (title): too-t'ah (body) for a 502 bad gateway bypass....

sometimes, no, almost always: you need to feel like
a tool, to feel you're alive!
for the greater good, for the higher purpose....
so long i attempted a solo project:
and what did that bring me? despair!
no more!

manchmal, nein, fast immer: du brauchen zu
fühlen wie ein werkzeug, gefühl du bist leben!
für die / der(?) größer gut, für die höherzwieck...

die zeppeline ar kommen!
die zeppeline ar kommen!
            even if i could express some things in English...
i would most certainly substitute them with:
a historical bias of etymology...
they're called the Anglo-Saxons for a a reason...
they're not called the Anglo-Swabians...
or the Anglo-Pomeranians...

i'm no ******* native, at best i could pass off as
a spy... for whom? open answers... anyone
& everyone... working a football match ground:
i'm pretty sure there's a hierarchy of those involved...
i like this indoctrination into how things, "things" work...

i will speak, try to, German whenever i think
the English language has done a "runner" scenario...
when the minority is overtaking the majority...
we can't have minority subjects of the crown subjugating
the majority of the crown to their ******* "instigations"
of law revisionism...
can we?
        
             i will drift into vaterzunge from time to time...
because... speaking English in England is...
hardly enough... learning some Romanian helps....
some Serb might too... but my most prized asset
is... writing some gibberish in Deutsch(e)...

for me it's a learning curve... to boot....
i stroke my beard, pretend to plasy a violin...
everyone's happy... they get to go home safely....
while i get enough hours of drinking and writing
to satiate my hunger for...
the sort of conversations i will, never, ever have with others:
rather, i will have to have them with, myself:
within the confines of myself ...

beard.. patriarch figurine... i love it... it's so little, yet it's so much....
when in ***** i was referred BY a woman AS a man...
mind the man, insert a girl's name...
i think i became a man... overnight...
prior to i was invisible... prior to i had
merely ***-bush decorating my face...
apparently no stubble...
now... now i look somewhat presentable,
formidable... authority stricken....
even though i'm still merely a pawn...
sure... but a pawn with a narrative...
look at me... why am i so content?
perhaps... because i'm living in split platitudes...

whatever the reason.... i'm not the drunk cowering
in his foothills of his own demise at a bus-stop,
i haven't eaten since 1:30am... i'm devouring a two piece
chicken, fries & drink very much sober, waiting
for the ladt bus to take me home...

i worked, even though working didn't feel much like working...
just minding the spectators...
i'm a bachelor... i'm freed from obligations...
i write sparingly, in my spare time...
if i'm not happy... then i shouldn't be alive... period...
i also allow myself to drink excessively...
i could be dead come tomorrow,
and you know what?
i might blink... "think" otherwise...
but, at the same time, would i really, have to?
have to care?!

my answer resounds within the echoed confines
of... NO;
now... prescribe yourself with
the echo of NO... rather than nie, niet or nein;
last time i heard... vowels don't allow themselves
to be echoed...
you can echo an A... only if it's coupled with the surd
H... formulated as a sigh... sigh... si-.... -igh... -igh...   -igh.
ooh! ah!

   just me... reading into the chants of crowds...
it's almost like i never left the *******
ferris wheel!

- roboter: funktion!
- jawohl, mein überlegen!

never, in a million years, would i think myself  as this:
compliant... then again... it's supposedly mandatory to wear
a face-mask on public transport in England...
you put that ******* niqab muzzle on me... one more ******* time...
i'll ******* bite your ***, spread some covid-rabies;
savvy?

the allure of cheap whiskey...
it's not like i enjoy drinking it...
i drink it for the plotline
of: well... it does what a hammer ought
to: what hammer-nail-coupling
ought to... do... or perhaps even be...

almost that "thing" with prostitutes...
on a dry run of circa 3 years...
and then...
for the tenderness...
eyes in romanian: ochi...
in ******: oczy...
how many ayes of eyes?

     at least the prostitutes are swimming
with the sharks...
with jack the ripper types...
because...
all that solo-projects of hand-*****
and guillotined whittle richards
of rubber-slapping ******...

but i'm there...
give me an hour with a woman
and i'll return to speaking
with my demon...

it just, makes... sense...
a 3 year dry-run... and then...
i was reimagining touching her body
like a Rodin might figure out
clay...
vide cor meum: see my heart...

in a "democracy": where...
dialectics isn't really a "thing"...
from gloom through to glum through
to a low rank of bloat:
somehow properly teasing
an honesty of blue...

three kingfisher: what shall we bore?
no... exactly: not bear:
bore...
i could never have a child...
fathering a child implies...
creating a ******* Frankenstein monster...
as much as i'd love
to spar with a woman
over a child...
i'd be held back by daydreams
of lady ******...
or... mr. tend bundy type of offspring...

i'd speak this tongue to them:
added: but if i were to... breed with her...
she wouldn't be expected
to allow my child to speak
her father's tongue back at it...
somehow... it would all become
proto-Ha-Glee...
i wouldn't be speaking my:
mother tongue to the child...

no... that's not going to happen...
however... fair... and honest...
the English tongue is...
you're not going to "uproot" my ******* hair!
take your Pakis eagerly learning your tongue:
eagerly unlearning their mother's tongue...
pretend new England: now...
come...

           i love women so, so much... oh so much...
i will not be told to love them
to confine myself to a security of a mortgage....
give me 72 rottweilers...
give me 72 prostitutes...
give me 72 kilograms of Arabian sand...
give me... 72 hours of... proper... time!

give me a body of a woman
that i might want to remould
into a sculpture!
give me the agonies of scent...
her hair teasing the perfumery of soap...
now let me... grovel like a pig...
in her armpit...
i don't want to be a boy
left-over... in a playground...
give me the spares!
now!

give me your leftovers!
now!
jetzt! jetzt! hier! hier!
                besuchen!
         jetzt-hier: achtung!
              it's almost like some people...
never understand anything
unless it might have to be....
insinuated within the focus of:
werkzeug.

In jedem Moment,
in dem eine Person lebt,
ist sie ein passives Werkzeug der Unvermeidlichkeit