You think you’ve lost because you don’t know the truth.
This very second.
But it takes a lifetime to mull and savor.
Each bit of propaganda proffered.
I am a coward.
Just scared. Scared at the rustle of leaves. Worthless in battle.
When pursued by dumb, fearless slabs of meat.
The brave wear white.
We have no real dream to comb out.
And you say we’re not in a real war.
But we are playing chess with Lucifer, age-old.
And so now I apologize to Bobby Fischer.
If you can get to that.
Because he started multiple games. At random. In progress.
Textbook tells one way. And wake up early works well.
But weird candlelight attic window can’t be replicated.
The most valuable aberration.
For now I have created language.
And I no longer need you.
Your wars have ceased in importance.
Because I can implode your machines. Which you rely on so heavily.
Andrzej Wajda a third time.
Tadeusz Łomnicki was a Daniel Craig orphan here.
And you think left better off a poem.
Why shoehorn Cahiers?
We can all do it for the sake of a Urszula Modrzyńska.
Curls to comb out like Marx’s beard.
And our Jewish comrades.
It’s no joke.
Keep the beat, Tadeusz Janczar. Neu! Neu! Neu!
Like Klaus Dinger. Single-minded. Double-footed. Almost an arm to spare.
You will see Roman Polanski act.
Ah! Ah! Ah!
No Butt-Head doth stem the bathos.
Dodoism, now and forever!!!!!!
I like the Marx beard part the most. Dodoism! Bathos! Bubble Bathos.