tyko słowa!
     tylko słowa!                       sowa. sowa.
zawsze to samo mówią!
jedno i to samo...
           to tylko słowa!
szkoda że numery nie
mają takiego akcentu wartości
        w ramach ambicii na
tłach domu z telewizorem lub czajnikiem!
  czaj czaj, czas w Petersburg'u.
tak! no tak!
         tylko słowa!
ale potem pytają:
           czemu to nie mówi
  jak młot sto razy na minute
           słowo gwoźdz?
a wtedy: no kurwa!
przecież ten człowiek to nie młot!
         za za za zapuźno!
to młot! i on wklucza
sentyment dodo: ten na wiginieńciu -
albo wygnaniu - Noah i no, aha, czyli tak.
wsłuchuje sie w "arrangement" apropos ę
******* Brew mówiąc:
                            to ma tchu!
but seriously, listening
to Miles Davis' ******* brew
is done more easily than any album
by the soft machine...
never understood the canteen movement
from the Archbishop's core to
make up extremism against the York
contender.
po Angielsku 's possessive and plural
               or averted into ą and ę:
                                                             z sfobodą:
        tylko zebra
               casem sie pojawia... ze....
i.e. with ease (cz - časem że / rze \že / glyph)
                             ja niby ni tu ni tu, tylko tam
gdzie płodze niewinność (niewiñość) sam...
             French and Slav... acute aplenty...
but the grave missing... and the inverse of
the circumflex... for the sh sz cz ch.

chór! i duch!
               blady... rym...
ale i też wygoda powrotu
jako niby żyd... bo
te paluski... i ten *lajkonik...
kiev w warszawie... na
tym tle: bo to gwar gadania
i autobus w pizdzie nocy i
zimy... ceka... ceka.

   o bodziem...
  punk kot w czekam
i czoło i glebe i rys islamu,
   i szkło skalu w czaszke
i gołote... i ten... pierdolony kosciół!
goły... naked...
         the cat weighs about 10 kilograms
i'm obviously going to head-**** him
to say good morning...

rrrrrryb ah! koscioł! groto i smród!
rekąpis!                   ryba! flu flu flu!
oj tu: pingwin sie zgina! huj! bra!
   tu! zeżre te polsche... te polsche...
zerwie z nią... bo co?
jakie narodziny mam, "celebrować"?
ja na typ o motłoch? baba?!
taki typ by na miet i slóp -czysłav?!
pats! prostak z... miasta...
  chleba mało... tsa zebrać...
seplień seplień se o se: nago
      i choroba... gniew... grób;
padaj! jak gwóźdz w trumne
czy tam gówno w toalete...
       tsa u... tu com sa, tam com sa...
ja na wygnań!
        ja wygnany, co mi te poloki?
półtłoki? boli, nie? zyh poza granicą,
tam, dam ci kwit i... kćuka!
                 kćuka! na witaj huju!
potem -senką: za casów Herod'a...
  co sfe: pio... senką; taki tanz: oi! ola ola o!

taki zemnie polok, jaki ten
pierw żyd, co pyta:
  
  pytam... bo czekam...

(choir and [the] ghost).

    warto pytać, oto wiem że o nic nie czekam
(nie czekam o nic... po? nie czekam o nic...
po prostu czekam; tak tak, nic nici nić nitka nikt;
kurvfa shoelaces... you ******* deaf
or watching kochaj albo rzuć?       );
tym warte pytać of -zyk-
kiedy nie w... kraju...  or-zelek... or-zelek...
              taki kwaśniewski co tylko sepleni...
blah blah blah... potem na gniew
vay vest vey kal it a p-cle... susumber: or cueue...
         oi oi! wrona! hej! wrona!              co tam?!
eh, ten rojs siber tesz popierdolony...
rrrrreeee lee, wrona! co tam?
o kurva... terz troche... mmm uhum... mm... eh?
   is bez powrotu... taki... niby...
dobry fason i wybór słów
    jako dobry wójek... po glebie jak po
grzbiecie psa...
ah ten pysk.... taki dobry pies
mógł być, a potem, nagle, naturalnie:
wściek! pyska... harem! harem!
         harem! grypa! grypa! ugh!
                                golem!
    co tam wyrośnie, to tam nigdy nie było...
ani cebula co płacze, ani
           burak któremu zęby
   wypadają...
      oś? czy... osa? i z tym językiem
bez tego języka gwarancji?
            taki jam obcy...
   ja nawet obcy gadać obcym... do perfekcji...
jaki to musi być nud... aby było
              jak to musi być, skoro jest?
    last time i checked... pretty **** awful.

Czytać nadzieje w poezji jest dużo jak rozumieć niebieski kolor w niebie,
ona czuje, zna ten perfum, co nie może sama sobie kupić.

Ten wiatr ciągnie, utrzymuje ale nic ujawnia,
koty marzą, a ona ciągle czyta te same książki.

Szuka ten kolor wszędzie, jej farby nigdzie nie pasują,
wysyła pocztówki do siebie z miejsc nieznanych z których
zawsze pamięta dziękowac za piwo.

Lata idą, a ona powtarza sie, ciągle zapomina patrzyć na dół,
nieobecna że niedługo ominie go.

Moje serce się przelewa,
Bo mnie w kółko ktoś olewa.
Ciągle gine, to mnie zżera,
Taka smutna atmosfera.
To nie bajka, i nie płacze,
Tylko sobie ja tak kracze.

Au, jesteś jak złoto,
Ale chyba o tym wiesz pięknoto.
Forever alone, czy nie,
Zawsze będe kochał Cie.
Może zaczekam aż ktoś mnie znajdzie,
I może przy tym się sam odnajdzie.

nam wszystkim dopisują, biel
skóry! demokracja ozorem ich
znaczy tyle samo co bydła krew!
o rękopis pizd, hu ha,
rękopis naprawde: no, ten
łók walii! nagle w nad-kilometr
łokciem w dal i ruch z przodem,
łokciem między afery kilo wiepsza -
nie wyryte w kamień, tak nagle od
przysięgi? katahez brak? co ja pytam
od narodu w nagłej dumy z papierzem
i pieprzem?!
o cud? ha ha! cud? ha ha! kicham i
to samo mam co wy raptem pseudo-żydem.
lepiej jeden bałwan w drugi bałwan tropem
w mgnięcie oczu na stopienie miecza w rtęć...
i mówie: PO LI TY KA?
to przybliża twardówke nad osioła gest:
by równać się z kimaniem kozioła w ząb chat chat chat?
że kimanie jest równe kiwaniem z luzem na
obydwie rubryki tak w palette sauerkraut -
to sie zgadzam po polsku impromptu;
ale ta kobieca przepaść... nagle przepaść...
ale też nagle okulary przeciw-słoneczne,
i wieczna noc, o której zawsze wspomne, by
zaćmić dzień.

Co tam Aga ,dobrze będzie,
W biegu, w pracy oraz wszędzie,
Zawsze szukam twe objęcie,
Bo Ty dajesz mi oparcie,
Albo jestem w wielkim błędzie.

nudni ludzie zawsze mają coś
do powiedzenia

-

boring people, always have
something to say,

bo to zawsze znaczy gawarić
         o innych -

because it always means
speaking about others.

3 ******* nights,
i've been mitigating "concern"
for a light source
via a candle,
   and a samsung tablet...

what has resorted
in giving me the most comfort?
what prometheus came down
with onto the plateau...

what the demigod son of
zeus came down with,
with, electricity?!

                  fire, fire is comforting,
in that it warms,
but also illuminates...
what is a thunder bolt?
light... and then?
  electrocution!
         no more, no, less!

the cats agree...
i'm good with:
from earth you came,
unto the earht you will return...
in between?
i need to pour some wax
into my hand,
just, to "make" sure...

                    danke (dir).
hier, mein zeppelin!

          was war was:
        mit die Elisabeth-Gruß?!
             tragen-zu komödie-skizzieren?!

english people talk too much...
   englischvolk spreschen zu viel...

i'll speak my german,
via anglican grammar...
                for a reason...
       beyond the reason of:
well, i've integrated...
there's no other reason for me
to "integrate",
other than to,
disembody myself from
these, corrupt people...

              ich bin deutsche,
durch fälschen...

            i had to...
  you think relearning head-banging
was somehow "easy",
without learning some deutsche?!

oh, yes yes...
   ich war gehen mein glauben im
diese fälschung sachsen...

   pierdole...
               nawet...  jeżeli mówię
gminą mowy,
  a nie panem miasta:
tym - germańskim...
                             to, moja: sprawa...

when was, center, osten?
            oh, right... when Warschau...
und Berlin was "osten" off anywhere
beside Paris or Loon'don,
and as far east as Novosibirsk?
as vest as is vest as
is the "pity" showered upon
           Doob'lin?!

i'm waiting.

and in my waiting: who could say...
i have a fetish for german language...
but none of their pornographic materials?

perhaps i would have learned french...
if i knew the post-latin order...
and how the germanic languages use another
order... how even western slavic uses...
post-latin romantic order of words...

best example?
sunflower oil... in english...
in german: sonnenblumenöl...
huile de tournesol in french...
olej słonecznikowy in ****** western slavic -
masovian or galician or...

the sunflower is a "precursor" of...
oil... not elsewhere...
among the french and among the polacks
oil is stressed first...
then the denotation of: what kind of oil?
why i didn't learn french?
oh... i was supposed to forget my mother
tongue...
i would have learned german
with more ease having acquired english...
fwench ****** it oops...

what's that, kind auditory hallucination
of spontaneity and no l.c.d. being ingested?
what's that word?
niemcy? hear that? the word means:
germans...

so what's cooking and more to the point...
who's cooking and what?
languages?
in my vicinity... 4 at least...
one as still acquired...
one in a caste of a broken lending broker...
one as a fetish and one as
a... minor fetish... Paris circa 2004...
and not because i'm english in any way
possible and i have a: the sort of grudge
that a ****** deals a russian a hand...
english superstitious enclaves when being
a tourist in Paris...
as someone not from Warsaw...
i did find a lisp of Bulgahov in Moscow...
it was aired... suspiciously silent...
a dog-whistle you might say...

the old capital was in lesser Poland...
greater Poland and its trade ties to
Brandenburg via Posen...
no one was expecting a Winchester to London
shift... the masovians were being
incorporated synonym in tempus (in time)
with what was to become of the pagan Prussians...
the new rulers of lower buxton & saxony...
punk history lessons...
because the northern crusades only took
place due to some people
defending the last pagans of europe...
the lithuanians...
and the marriage was a success...
as was rome...
the crown that was known
as greater poland, lesser poland...
snippet of pomeranian...
and...

when bohemia became integral to
the borders of defining the holy roman empire...
the crown with the grand duchy of lithuania...
perhaps the post-vikings did *****
a brick that founded the basis of Kiev...
but there's also L'viv...
and as one greek said to me...
there's no Istambul where i look...
there's only a Constantinople...

no... the Notre Dame would have survived
the **** occupation...
Paris wasn't bombed...
London though? it's a miracle that St. Paul's
survived... with or without a fire...

all this history and... no history class back
in school... dates that are like cognitive
tattoos... i am almost ashamed of reciting them...
but then i do have a body without ink...
historical infantilism...
who is to cite the h'american constitution,
the declaration of independence...
who is to cite the magna carta...
who is to convene over the Union of Lublin -
signed in 1569 - that created a single state
of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth -
who is to ask this "neo-nazis" these
germ-an-ans... and the Muslims regarding
their Iraqi "beef" with the Mongols?

is this truly infantalism? historical infantalism?
to remember or at least,
ascribe oneself a continued presence
of these events? what if not in skin alone...
the mind is a fickle embryo that's bound
to be ****** into a whirlpool of:
scientific exploration and "gender neutral pronouns"...

because what the hell is worth my attention...
that a battle of Hastings took place in 1066?
what of the battle of Tannenberg in 1410...
then the teutonic knights were fighting a northern
crusade against a converted people from 966...
and their coalition of lithuanian pagans
and the rabble e pluribus unum?

infantilism... i guess it must be infantilism...
just like those people citing the former
glory of the british empire...
and they being the descendents of former colonial
subjects...
but if they're all so oh very serious...
look at my tattoos! look at my historical infantilism!

i too can play this game...
i too can look bleak with surprise:
oh you think that the northern crusades didn't take
place? the only holy ground is the levant?
not the old forests of mother Prussia?
to me... it's historical infantalism...
to most it's... Al-Ḥarb al-Ahliyyah al-Libnāniyyah...
or the Dissolution of Yugoslavia...
or...

that... "thing" in Syria...
i love how the Muslims love to put down Christianity
as not being the religion of the pacified...
hell... even i have heard of buddhist warrior monks...
and they cite!
my good friend Samir loved citing this to me...
when i was going through my apostasy and wasn't
ever going to be confirmed in the church's
bureucracy...
apparently a Muslim in the west knows very
little about the catholics coming from old Rus...
vicinity...
what's that quote he used...
matthew 10:34 - do not suppose that i have come
to bring peace to the earth.
i did not come to bring peace, but a sword...

and my most beloved quote about
a second coming... in the Islamic hadith...
حدیث نماز خواندن عیسی به امامت مهدی‎
the (hadith of jesus praying behind mahdi)
as cited by ibn ibn ibn abu huraiah
ibn ibn ibn allamah sayyid sa'eed akhtar rizvi
ibn ibn ibn jabir ibn abd allah...
ibn ibn ibn al-husayn al-ajiri and many others...

where will the kind sir, descend?
in Damascus... and again that Syria "thing"...
once upon a time i could find a good
quote with regards to the descent...
his hair will appear as if falling pearls...
his tears this that and the other...
in a: once upon a time you could find
everything on the internet without it being
meddled for herr zensor purposes and -
an objective lack of transparency...

i see no better indicator that a second coming
has occured within the dogmatism of Islam...
if you couple the two "stipends" of:
believable wording to be carried on and on...
until a freak accident like the Syrian civil
war occurs...

it was hardly a civil war in the polish-lithuanian
commonwealth...
given how the swedes felt inclined to invade
and lay their deluge...
because the king was a swede in this...
freakish... monarchic democracy....
and of course the ukranians...
and of course add some spice of the ottoman
nibble...

again: isn't this historical infantalism?
i should be... when people have all the right
to excavate as much from the holocaust
and the dead in the water slave, trade...
trade... which implies the middle ground
of misery while two opposing factions prospered...

to write of such things...
and not need a little sense of how infantile it is
or rather: can become?
in an otherwise pedagogic rubric?
like we, really needed to learn of the fact
that england was under roman occupation...
and how that's a reason to be proud...
as somehow related to the modern
aesthetic splendour of the Italians...
of which the modern germans scoff at...
given their mozart and their "****"
of the opera... and how... oh ****... i'm using
their letters... but how the germans nor the polacks...
ever entertained the ancient romans...

again... this most certainly has to be some
variant of infantilism... why would i recite
some distant date...
mind citing a past and dead and gone?
perhaps... i never really figured out a "way out"...
perhaps i was always playing the mole...
and digging trenches...
looking up psychological erosion of:
being just as bad as the "other side"...

or perhaps i'm just the sort of *******-beater
that forgot to fall in love so so hard
that he would be living with a regret
of getting a tattoo of a name: ИЛOНA
on his left collar-bone?

perhaps one of the two!
let's flip a coin!

Matko,
czemuż liść rajskiej jabłoni,
poczuł dotyk Twej dłoni?

... A wybór ten się ziścił?
To śnięcie, podszept liści...

Czy twa cierń była nader ostra?
Ma najdroższa,
Mater Nostra

... Dnia twego dziękczynienie,
nie miało oka tchnienie...

gdy znosiłaś krwiożercze znoje,
by ochronić
dziatki Twoje.

... Za Szeolem, bez pudru
lecz z chlubą łez nagości...

Twe serce 
zmrożone w kajdany,
nie okazało miłości.

... Tak, tych palców spostrzeżeń
u męża nań spuszczonych...

Iżby stworzyć koncepcję 
plemienia,cykl
niezwykle strudzony.

...Zbluzganiem, uwielbianiem,
Jest Ewą i Allahem...

Aby poczciwość dać rodzinie,
ciągle żyję
pod tym strachem.
Osobą jam nie znana,
Raczej funkcją, zadaniem
Jestem matką,
a moja profesja,
jest rodziny kochaniem.

„Od nigdy a po zawsze,
Byt, nie przeminę z wiatrem.

W honorze. W trawie. W mężczyźnie. Ostanę.”

zawsze pouczać, a nigdy nie uczyć... i.e., always the proverb, but never the verb to imitate; double i.e., preach acting foolish, but also preach saying wise things, what a horror to behold; and why are teachers in england ridiculed and shamed? oh **** me, i drink, i could drink you under the table... but i have some sort of system of morals, in the basic sense, i don't prescribe my "cure" to you.

people talk of illumination
in the night...
    they have these crescent words
to use...
       they talk of buddha
cracking open the statue of vishnu...
but hardly consider the statue
of shiva being broken open....
   people try to illuminate
this world with such tasks
being, or not being undertaken...
     all i have for illumination's worth
is a cat, fast asleep in my bed...
and there are countless
lightbulb moments to speak of,
to pretend to be einstein.
                    funny,          isn't it?
    it's still a cat sleeping on my bed, fast
asleep;
          at one point i woke up, and my ***
was on fire, from his body-heat...
i don't know how he managed to wriggle into
my ***-crack like that...
     i had to get up to cool my **** off...
he's almost 10kg in size... he's not a cat,
and neither is he a chihuahua... he's a *******
fuchs* (fox)!
ah! look denysovitch! an inverted
          german s z... ß!         in the word fox!
  the ś! look how a grapheme is opened up
(dissected)!               and then reiterated:
      ****...             i.e. fluke...
         as the joke continues:         ****....
                       i.e., good fortune...
                                 which might surprise a lot
of russian girls, in what that the word ment;
read a lot?
                 but, **** me... the vowel proximity
of nearing grapheme level
when saying fun         and     fan...
       æ or œ              do not even cover it...
pater ß = cubic 5...
              ae, ai, ao, au...
                                            and so forth...
                               ß

                        æ         œ,
           savvy?                the trinity of graphemes?

palyak...
   gwoopi:
palyak...
  pierdu
wart piotr,
    lieb pavel!
palyak:
gwoopi
           palyak!
czekoor!
   czaj!
   jemu
zwe, cykor!
  zwe! gagarin!
zwe! kitaj!
    kitajec!
pan szamb!
    ruszkin puszkin!
zwajce pijajce!
    szto?! szu szu
szarania!
        moskiw!
bamboula:
bratek bambo!
ukrajnin: bohun!
  sto stokortek
nad grobem:
   KACAP!
  ка'тсап!
     HORONWIEG
zgranego
młota i kilofa!
oj barket:
ty raz jeszcze
będziesz
żegnać glebę:
            jak chleb!
gryź ty:
    tą garść piachu,
na twój ząb
jak modlitwe
    na swój zór!
          i mów mi:
słotka,
miękka bółeczka!
       kajzerka!
niby:
wilhelm kaiserschuh
tap tap...
tippentanzen...
mów mi że to tak!
jak zawsze:
    warta propaganda.

and there was a Fiona,
and me working the Edinburgh
***** nightclub
picking empty glasses
from the parkiet...
emptying ****** into
bottles of beer,
getting cornered by skinhead
homos eager for a blow...
Fiona...
    played her the mandolin,
outside her window like
a ******* twised Romeo...
rod steward's maggie may...
then there was Janina,
a love worthy of a canvas,
and a rose... roses bewilder women...
not ough pearl or oyster shells
on them... come next spring...
like any Dutch tulip addiction...
frivolous scoop...
n'ah... this ***** hit the bull's eye
of the bell tower...
ich troje's song
zawsze z tobą chciabym być...
a commoner party song...
became a critique of my skull...
as she deemed it,
the protruding occipital of Africans...
and the squashed, flat "missing"
protrusion was a sign of degeneracy...
even though we shared the same ancestor...
from a pop song...
toward a flat occipital...
wheat-gob bulging jawline
of African Amricans?
they stick corn cobs in there or what?
come on... even Somalia pirates
know the diffrence between not liking
a pleb song, and making comments
about the ******* cranium...
oh wait... and all of this...
in art class...
   so I sketched an answer for her...
her youth...
   eyes with no pupils and no iris,
pure sclera... looking into a mirror
and a babushka...
                if they **** for a reward
of 72 virgins...
              god give me strength...
anticipating 72 doberman
or alsatians, or rottweiler puppies...
       too much fictive love,
when the reality demands...
  once upon a time,
        when a young couple were
to be married,
the parents of both bride
and groom...
    invested in...
    the rewards of retirement,
and the anticipation of reinvigoration
by youth in the format of
grandchildren...
now?
oh you know the subsequent script...
*******.

nudni ludzie zawsze
             mają o czym gadać...
nuda to ta w hańbi:
jedyna prostota!
   ty! hunie! ty mongole!
    ty wieśniaku! paszli!
   gryz po gryz wedle
                      tłem, zgubem
  szczekającego ozora!
o! hy! o! hydra!
      wklucz me oczy w soczewki
sprostań!     na tą
glebę mą dusze pacierzem ułoże!        
aby to był, ten jeden,
i ostatni, oddech!        
  
boring people always have something
to talk about,
given that they only "talk" about
other people, otherwise gossip.

racja pana,
swe racje, oddam,
  bym tylko miał być
swobodny, racją pana,
i nim! i tylko nim pod
sztandarmem nie!
                *** nad miesięń kostny,
w rapsodii..
                   ożywić...
   wraz z'eh skarabem prußa...
   nadać kwestie, nowej
pyramidy.

  o szej! o kurwa znać! nie śnić!
kurwa mać!

ukuj tfe ucho, by dać znać,
że ty słyszy;
inoczem nie wart
         tego co to znaczy
w pospolitym ozorze
   bydła.

czasem w pełni księżyca,
w zaciszu północy,
  a potem, raptem:
w tło godziny
cienia zwanym:
            karakana!
sto isrk! i sto lat!
              i horongiew
   pociąg wartych serc!
paszli! gruz i smerc!

nigdy nie powiem ci,
lecz teraz to nigdy ci (tybie)
powiem:

     nie zawsze znaczy cnota
to co masz, czy to co
nie masz...
cnota czasem daje sie
wynagrodzić słowem,
i tym, co bóg każe, i powie,
wraz z:
czasem to co do mowy
daje więcej, niż to co
do zaguby wedle: mieć!

łzy: ten badacz serca!
  serca!!!!!!!!
jak masz łzy,
         to masz i serce,
nikomu nadaremne
         jedno, czy drugie.

the time it takes to travel from
ostrowiec świętokrzyski...
mein klein
        scheisseloch
               aus geburtdorf - - - - - - - - - - - -

arriving at Stansted airport...
at the passport
    hall...

    achtung bitte...
then some Spanish...
and at last English...
i almost forget where i was...

i was about to write an epic...
saturated with so little
of thought...
but, alas... bombarded
by two shots of bourbon,
distracted by
something found between

a mountain, a chair,
a man and a fern
(yes, a cat... sleeping in my bed)...

imagine being sober for
over a month!
  imagine!
one IPA beer throughout
the "tenure" of holy holy holy

- - - - - - - - - - -
   my little ****-hole
                       from, birth-village

       what?!
i'm not going to learn German
being so god-**** entrenched in
Englisch and Schlavikschisch...
"too many consonants"...
that's what the English colts
used to say seeing western
Slavic for the first time...
"too many" consonants...

    sounds like "t'oo mime'any"
    pronouns in the post-Germanicus
post-isch              Eisland...

EPIC! EPIC!
over a month sober and...
new year's resolution?

  don't visit a brothel...
buy vinyls...
   and visit that
gresham publishing company
in London...
with the collection
of Dickens...

     - - - - - - - -
(Kandinsky / *******... all over
zis grossenwahn...
great delusion)

   but the time it takes to
travel by coach from
   ostrowiec świętokrzyski to Warsaw?
see...

  you never appreciate certain
types of music genres in
certain places...
opera... where do you listen to opera?
in an operhauß!

            pierdolone kacapy!
rho si si... si si kurva... si i zawsze ja!
    ия
                  siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
                  jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

pierdu pierdu: a.i.

        never mind, not today...
not straight off the boat type of...
"poem"...
just a blitzkrieg...
like any blitzkrieg...
reactionary?
                          that blinking
sensation...
        EPI                   LEP           (P)SY    

(we'll come onto greek in
a minute...
just one letter...

oh much much prior to
the antithesis of sudoku,
i.e. mahjong,
               solitaire...
   the OTHER,                    NPC...
finite model theory...
                    heinz-dieter ebbing)  

point being?
jazz? a bedroom and a cafe...
classical music though?

grand architecture or...
the most mundane "there"
   with a crooked mirror of
"being", with what remains:
   das ist:                   da ist nicht!

meine! oder ohne mir!

                      und es ist...
  und es ist...
                          
  the compedium of man's surmount
in but a few words made
totem, god, beast or with a mask
to guise a face upon a lake,
a moon delving into Monday,
a scythe into the sickle
and the plums of fortune
come August's choir of wheat...

a trickle of the poetic,
a tickling of the drunk...
  
  and here in England they cared for
what became dyslexic
hyperinflated:
yoga granny yog'ha
             for the pronoun:
who what where?
      basic... 2 i see two i too c to see
'ere i wh'       her i err
who i... go when?

when is pronoun!
   times what?
who!
when times what equals who!

woo woo woo...

a whole month speaking nothing
but ****** with my grandparents...
drop my tongue into
a barrel of bourbon...
of course i'll exfoliate!

   - and i liked classical music prior...
but...
hmm...
sitting there in the coach,
decided to chose a letter...

i once did this "thought experiment"
while studying the chemically
enchanced marijuana
of post hippy post pink floyd England...
skunk...
how to... pseudo-Buddha...
not think...
seek the holy grail... the third eye...
same **** different cover
*******...

        mind you...
it did work...
where did my thinking unbecome
narration?
oh... right... poetry and
the prophecies of the weather forecast:
the solid 5 minutes
of fame ordained to surpass
the 15 already promised
by Dandy W.

              classical music...
sitting uncomfortably?
good...
now you need a coach trip...
and...

ideal timing...
from
   ostrowiec świętokrzyski
to Warsaw you can listen to
robert schumann's

   fantastical tracks op. 12,
   arabeska c-dur op. 18,
                 childhood's scenes op. 15,
     forest scenes op. 82

and
     beethoven's
     IX symphony d-mol op. 125...
entering Warsaw...
like some vague...
comedy of... Wagner...
        luftwaffezunahme...

orgasmusrittwalküregodemicheservus
­
and i just said there...
most uncomfortable...
  Λ...
                 no... not a syllable...
Λ...
                   two eyes...
and a pin-point...
   on the forehead...
a missing, a hush, no narrative...
a "meditation"
(now, that's ambitious)...

  lambda...

                no... not O(micron,
or     -mega)...
  
           Λ...
  an... "effect"...
   (yes yes, either an ambiguity,
or a misnomer, that "     "     capsule)

         how did i notice Λ?

the digital clock in the coach,
i wanted to encapsulate...
something given,
a priori...

                           not this:
a posteriori mesh mish mash U O MSH,
this perpetual synthesis
of an acquired tongue...

i wanted to block
a meaning...
so i tuned into the music...
   and began blanking, stare-matching
waterfalls to staircaseas...

it began with

   14 : 30

14 : : : : : : : : : :
   : : : : : : : : : :
      : : : : : : : : : :
   : : : : : : : : : :
   : : : : : : : : : :
         : : : : : : : : : : 14 : 31

after a while i deviate
from even minding
the : : : : : : : : : :
   : : : : : : : : : :
      : : : : : : : : : :
   : : : : : : : : : :
   : : : : : : : : : :
         : : : : : : : : : :
  count

   ⠃  b
       ⠅     k
⠭    x
                ⠃ 2

after a while?

    given the λ-effect?

  well... y... h... λ... μ...

              what the hell
is north is there is no
actual Copernican "north"?

sure... the earth isn't flat...
but "where" the hell is
"north" in the Copernican
scheme of things?!
there isn't one, is, there?

hence the blurry:

   magic number on calculator
screens in math class in school:

8008135:
              8, ∞, S, 5, rune, sharpened,
etc.
    ∞, 8: 5 S...

                        5318008: *******!

IO:3Γ

                  1b:6B

              chess?
     poker?
                                bridge?

IZ:ZS (12:25)...

                       over a month spent
sober... with an exception
of watching the Decalogue
8 or 9...
                    (kieślowski) -
with an IPA...
                              (indian pale ale)...

23rd. of November 2018...
i can still remember
sitting on a barstool next to her,
sipping a Guinness...
at 7am...

   i've never seen a woman
read two pages of a book
for so long in my life...
well... attempt to read a book...
contantly checking
her phone...

                 it's hard to feel ashamed
drinking in the morning
in an airport,
surrounded by hefty
***** in a bunch
heading off for a bachelor
party
with one dressed in
Pampers...

                          but i kept
her company...
   **** me...
                       23rd November
2018...
           a lot must have happened
since then...

              she sooner
finished her pint of lager,
i my pint of Guinness,
she checked her phone
more times than i blinked...
and still...
she only managed to
turn only one page
of a book...

     bad luck... 'Dannielle'...
a book, an airport,
a morning cover?
        
   - but i've never seen a person
take so much time to turn
over a page or two
of a book...
this is hardly a place
to call into question
a conversation starter:
so watch'ah reading?
is it?

    didn't think so...
   books, now, then, 10 years ago...
and now...
bypassing standard bearers...
Urban II sorts...
   books as items of nouveau vogue
attaches...

   sorts:
   kippahs of the trendy
Brooklyn sort...

            
hell: **** it... let's wreck this
like a Machine Head song
akin to bulldozer...

   if Pandora had a box...
Eureka had an attic.