Fretless.

Fiddlesticks.

for the birds

a minute-fourteen

you will never get it back

just think how they feel

 

Suspended in Jaffee

R|egard this satire as subversion|.
I|nfer appreciation of inexplicit|.
P|repare to adjust along the fold|.

Is that the best tribute you could muster for a legendary centenarian?

No, it's the best for a mediocre nonagenarian amid inflation.

No, I had to dumb it down for you. 

A sedentary what?

Der Parkbank Pinkler Kapitel: Rückfünfzehn

Obschon du da bißt, treffen wir uns demnächst auf jenes Klemp.

—Oonsa R. Tsaeler
(Gespraech im Spiegelbild)

.VX

 

Es wird gefragt, wenn das Abbild waagrecht gerade andersrum erscheint, warum nun nicht gleich auf dem Kopf stehend? Angenommen, das ist nicht lustig gemeint, fallen wir hier in die Kategorie von falsch gestellten Fragen. Stellt man die richtigen Fragen, müssen Fragezeichen nicht gestellt werden.

 

Wie sähe es aus, wenn du deinem wahren Ich gegenüberstündest. Wieso hat der einzelne Kopf sowie der hinterer Teil gleich zwei Backen. Warum zählen zu den jeweiligen Geschlechtsorganen, sonst ledig und allein zwischen zwei Beinen, gekoppelte Eier.

 

Wofür braucht eine Nase zwei Löcher aber Alex nur ein Platz. Weshalb den Kapiteln römische Zahlen zuweisen und nie bis fünfzig zählen. Was soll an Symmetrie denn so erschreckend sein.

 

Von deren vertrauten Anredeform abgesehen, inwiefern ist Du egozentrisch. Von wegen Enden, wie kannst du ein Killer erkennen, ohne ihn auf die Reihe zu kriegen.

 

__

xxxv. << -- >> Kapitel ??

Kausalsätze

Never say never for the infinite number of Is and mes and Is and mes from here on who thought myself stable in a belief or mode of living or condition of existence only to find myself astonishingly other, astonishing from the view of the other other, not from the I-now, of which there are infinitesimal versions unique from each other inside out, just as there must be infinite versions of I-from-here-onward, the infinitesimal variations of which go unnoticed for the deceptively contiguous nature of now, which contiguity is attached to an acclimation established for the need not to view each micro-moment as momentous as it is, each seemingly stable non-decision in all its decisiveness, and instead seeing the only change in a decision rendering it so, if only seen in its effect and not the cause upon which it's conditional.

Time times time: 34 this time in 3s & 4s

For the longest

I've been watching

how the artists

schlep through encores

as if clapping

for the longest

is enough.

Then when this one

singing mercy

who was eighty

on departing

bid so long now

for the house band

'twas enough.

Fans were moonstruck

as you bounded 

out your window 

through the setlist 

have a happy

hardly gently

eighty-one.

 

Setlist from 28 February in Berlin:

about the title:  I
about the title: II

Times Signs

Saray ho! Hoserei, Warschauer-/Revaler Straße - 1952
(hover/click for twunny twunny-three)

It's not always the shoe.

Stress is self made, sure. But it's also firmly part of inner and outer space. Blaming oneself for worries is a stretch fraught with more stress.

 

Seen from outer space to view each labor cum love's a life lesson, yeah. Why fret? Yet every concern turned turn-on lies not far from more promising dread informed by the experience of stress, but far enough that navigating between such experience's another art of stress upon the unforgiving entirety of it all.

 

I've gone enough aloud with the cliché of being spiritual not religious only to realize the reverse is so. Might I have that backward, too? Well, it's the shoe, a superstition, and what is that but a glue on a view to religion?

 

If there's a mantra it's always be grateful and don't take for granted, couched in the would-be, something more akin to be ever aware of the got, so as to be not unawares of the not. Should that then suddenly drop.

 

A walk recently concealed the result of what one might say was the walk itself. Or a shoe or something in it. It was the latter was true, but it wasn't the shoe. No dried disc of blood in a sock should serve as exhibit to jump to false convictions.

 

Two toes have served long together more closely than the rest. One could really nearly regard them as one, were it not for their having individual concerns, and the fact of an infraction committed by the ring against the middle.

 

It might be the offender was tired of having the victim draped over & upon it so familiar & snug, so it took a nail and stabbed it just as ad nauseam as the offense that'd caused the crime, not too many times to count but innumerably nonetheless, for there'd be one tiny wound repeatedly offended.

Seeing that dot at the end of it all, one'd think at most there'd been but one drop.