F youtility.

A proposed experiment with
time:

A man shaped by his

awkwardness

Do his sentiments betray

higher contemplation?

No

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Pietry and happenstance.

Grind my bones
Until they’re dust
You can’t between me
and my must
Burn and churn ‘R’ sehole
with lust and lie
(‘Soul’ not ‘sea hole’)
((C’s don’t have any holes any
way,
look at M!
That’s Ohs! (Os!)))
also not e’s

I still get high from climbing trees &
I did not finish my degree,
Sheer irony of poetry,
Coming home with grazed up knees,
This does not mean
that I’m not me,
It is what it intends to be
^(Unwrap threads three that mean to me)

Atheism and theism are weeisms
Ricky Gervais – he is him (?
or David Brent?)                          ..David Brent

U Fat headed fat so
Your calypso collapse though
As long as your ellipse don’t
collapse
So as mine
Don’t imp lore me to
tell you its like over
time
Internet age
Into net rage
Oh thanks! Today we got
our wage slits? .. That’s mind?
T(0M!)hanks
i(t’)s good in films
Your rage made me slip,
thanks
I’m more at home in
S.C.U.M.my place
^(./not)          Than middle class in outer space
White is black and facts don’t
crack
You wear that face I win the
race
Even though your mind’s
erased
You trip it up -still think
I’m chased
Try thinking more if just for your own pace

SPACE

Friend to a T with gold tooth
face
Eritrean origin place
SAMO © yo jnt’s 2 laced
Define the wind of curves of grace
Slash my face -spray Puss on
face and in boots
In boots get yo (then) make
up
(‘N’ a sandwich?)
What a hinge
With a twinge and a singing sting
Make up in wound
string wound
down (&round?) in wound
Can feel the ring of
that luncheon thing
Have a car* (*Patwah:/Kyar../) though
Sandwiches
Now in you’re tuned now
Why not 100 luft balloon
y’loon
Born with greasy silver spoon
But my gosh don’t wash

Biology is therefore Bile-ology and (ringing bright Symbiotic) Symbiology.       ?
Big up †


Rubber look and hooking crooks that try’s to ward to sound profound.

Rubber luck &
hooking trucks that
Skip through roads
on leaves of books
And skipping rooks
those shady crooks
in shadey Crookes
that slide about
& out the nooks
off the corners,
chequer board
checker bored,
Days are yore
Am I supposed to not be
bored, not so shore
the other sure is lazy bored
lazily and haze obscured,
Are you cured?
Or curved?
Or are ignored
the issues which we used to war
to laugh and disturb
the dust off kerbs
Skipping home
lipping drones
sip music through space vapour cones
into my ears
and bone rattle as ringing phones
Make me deaf you
F***ing mef
Don’t stand and fall, guitar face cleft
you’re on a stage, fuck in rage like
melvins callin’ magic men ‘mage’
Or some sort a sage
Anywage,
You can be so weedy
((So can I))
Ketama pollen
(Clever man’s greed)
Anyshank,
Wiz, woz where I ?
O bleah,
Glipping drones,
Klipping home
With some slipping and the grand EO’s lipping
of drones,
but definitely mainly grand
a grand,
so someone give me one (/?!) 4
lipping drones
and bouncing off your chakric
throne
Clatter blades at angles at bones
Push and clatter blades side on on bones
More see                                                                          Oe Mercy!
Go whet where ever wet weather drones roam
Shave off bits from
crooked homes
Kill & spill the blood on loam
of mercy Narie’s on fortunately on opposed paths
smoking on their ways to baths
call it Gym and it will
last
the subterfuge will hang there
fast
All is calm and no one’s
glassed
Deep within this second’s
past
Get out my sight you’ll
never last
your family’s living in (y)a past
But joy becomes the gentle
cast
around our loving seconds
passed,
Amongst the deathly ones
entwined
(Green incense wizards wine with woe about
wisdom welcome waves from King Tut
A strain with in (t)his cleanly zut
for once not toots whose so rank with glut
and fire of chest split
desperate anaemic money
make mire)
The form Ra winds;
Coagulate but never bind
Dissent within against cognisant
mind
I grapples but it only
grinds
I drag my loosey lucid lazy bag
made of transcendentally translucent sack
over crack and growing crackly crack
of the madly (so maybe mildly muddled my apple..eye..ogles) mildly worried mind
(Argh I hate stuff that
would actually say the word
“mind” about there!)??
It’s all not really about all of this anyway art any point
unless you’re proper sharp but ten/fifteen wouldn’t you be too sharp any wave ?


Rapeseed oil.

Loose the vine from mortal
coils
to lose the time spent for the spoils
My heart will burst, my
head will boil
Don’t get the call mixed up with
toil
To ourselves we are not loyal,
unspoiled
Stop acting like you’re bloody royal
Do you watch your spit sink
in the soil?
Every food you drink is oil
Ou r ape seeds sown will
make well-oiled
when grown.


Pub lick execution.

There’s only room
in a room
for one ego
be that front, back, chat, bath or
bed
This siht is symmetrical
Our bubbles can move
360 degrees around
eachother in a right
emulsion and everyone can share.
There should still be public
executions in the Uk and
USa, then people would work
harder and have fewer children. Mind you there basically are.

The pit of death shall
circle round
and down and bound
the sensing skin
which is akin
to serpentine grains of
wrack & sin scaling
reckoned layer upon layer of
holy rigormortis (Argh Ouroboros!)
Watch your attitude
Don’t, anonymous person, ever f%cking
call me dude if you don’t
usually call people that
And I genuinely like your hat
by the way.
And don’t, if your a man in full dPM,
call me darling because
I will find a gap through which to wink you it back and
shit shul’ get all awry and awkward 🙂 for (only?) thee
I’m twenty three plus three not three
&You’re probs in the Tee A and not the army
Combat career thee not me

By the w.. Nice car-
Seen’s you ask
I’ll have a gin martini please,
two or three o lives and
swirled, not stirred so I can
Shake it til’ we’re out of this
whirled.
First with ice to get the cooling process nice…
Flow follow
By the w.. what’s the litre-age on that mate?
(Do I truly give an ass of rat?)
I soon retire to tend the flowers
that grow to me in witching hours
and come and grow deep from dirt sour
“.. wuuh..That sounds strange man”
“And so do you,
and so do you and you and you, and so do you, and so do y..(all down the queue….)…….. “


Customer service.

These people want death
– drinking pint sized cans
of horrible energy drinks
that taste grim and
are horrible for your
health

***the devil in me likes that feeling of someone glancing up at me behind the till and seeming to instantly form an idea of how long i’m going to take serving them (delaying them) and start sighing and whatnot but bam.. you’ve done everything they wanted and
then they’re on the back foot because they were all sighing and sinking their eyes at you and your long hair and then all of a second they’re on your time and you’ve got a queue of other ones waiting – reckon a good man will smile at this point and change their sinking mind to swimming and thank you possibly but the funny ones are the ones who really rail and retain their stony subterfuge which, because of the anonymous yet shared experiential effects of your apparent and practiced service coupled with their unstoppable hurry, is useless and turns them into cement spinning tops that waver on the spot for a bit before a hurryaway, some of those do say thanks also though actually blessem’. Sometimes in these instants some are so locked up in their own loop of self-unfulfilled negative feedback and so so in an exponential hurry to get away from me that they hit the shelf that’s right behind them, some hard, it literally happens every day in fact, maybe because it’s a gas station and people have the road rush on the brain anyway but still — you can even play skittles with these bowlingball bellends, as long as you’re making sure you’re not the rude one (and they definitely are!:P) you can fire the stony ones at angles at the shelf behind (using your face and its nice blank/blank nice expression), knocking off different chocolate bars that you’ve arranged into a relative points system on a bit of paper there at the desk, gotta keep yersel’ entertained on the jaydob incha?! possibly like ** *
anyway

endless impatient and horrible faces forever forsook by their forseen customer service dreeeams…
“OOOOOOOh golly,
it’s not what it seeeems!!” :””””(((

& a customer with a horrible
attitude telling you ((who must now, to them, only be)their mumbling mirage of momentary ministrative servility) they
don’t like your attitude,
there’s something beautiful about it
a bit.


Sunglasses (soul molasses).

A shape in the head that’s
angles don’t align with
the ol’
shared normals. gives an
awkward gaze – sunlight given
out but slow though the
intake is similar – it won’t
feel familiar- I observe you
from outside much like I imagine you
observe me & knife fights
can
be
negated whilst
floating and bumping sniffling noses (and now fingers) dodge
a fin, the underwater sun’s
a-luminous anyhow

though
Not one of us cats could see!
(nous portions des S.G. à la nuit tombée?)

the non-deep &dark light
blue of the firmament
firmly meant that god is
love amongst other
attributes
(love and other Drags)