Sledgehammer [Rev]

The sledgehammer in my head hammers
away, imploding eardrums as I try in vain
to think translating thoughts - to commit a
few translating deeds - with the net effect
I'm lost in a hive of secret rules I will never
understand, the shrinking feeling indenting
my head & sucking all light and theory into
the black hole lurking there - is leaving me
with the realisation that the light shining in
the darkness did not reach my brain - with
the angry Little Alien glaring at life through
the red haze of scared incomprehension

Irreplaceable [Rev]

Fed up with reruns on favourite channels, I idly
watched “Tangled” on Disney Channel, a remake of
Rapunzel triggering memories of my “first times”
spoiled as negative representations were offered
before I had sufficient experience; yet it was the
policy of Rapunzel’s evil “mother” leading to total

Failure in spoiling Rapunzel feeling delight at the
world’s wonders - showing we can choose what
we shall adulate irrespective of events - & for me
it was choosing to lift high the wonder of wisdom,
experience shared with people, changing life into
a wonder no-one can spoil for another since we

Are all born with predilections and inner guidance
chosen before we were born; I believe my goal is
LOVE tempered by Wisdom - when enjoying the
laughter of my son or daughter experience can’t
be spoiled as an Infinite First, these events can’t 
be replaced by anything else - being the totally

Wonderful and irreplaceable best experience I
dreamed of when consciousness manifested
itself in me as a separate human being

Soft Shine [Rev]

No more fear for the dark in my mind, no more anxiety
when the Black Hole seems to dissolve my being - it’s
all an illusion, light itself forms the darkness since it is
still alive within that total absence; light manifests in

Many ways, not just as a physical sensory experience -
empty space comprises consciousness units of bright
energy, alive with a light not physically detected, giving
birth to a full colour pallet while lighting the fires of life,

Consciousness units are alive, aware, intelligent & loving
toward all being, & there is no darkness in our physical
universe - so if dark’s alight with life experience which is
seen in dimensions outside space & time - I need never

Fear the dark descent again - there is a joy in the warm,
intimate light that enfolds the soul & encircles the heart,
such that we are safe in the dreamtime from where inner
senses get information, as it acts as the film set where

Planning takes place, from there we produce the movies
of our lives - all dark spaces alight with velvet comfort and
warmth - I wish Pratchett’s Death also feels its solace
since light keeps all who choose Wisdom within the

soft shine of perfect love…

Why Of My Birth [Rev]

Dreamtime, and not being able to live in a
body - not making life work, still living in a
dream creating mental bubbles excluding
everything & everyone else - except that
we wish to see in & extract from them; I

Wanted to share my ideas with someone -
then found so much to read on life and its
meaning my mind lags behind, and it’s all
I can do to keep reading, head exploding,
realising everything exists within a Great

Gestalt making the conscious subatomic
particles dreaming everything into being,
the joy of it all, the tactile sensations to be
experienced, the intelligent energy that
morphs into us, the most functional form

For adventures, challenging ourselves to
far greater accomplishments - it is such
a lot of exciting information I can’t keep
it to myself, but no-one seems to listen
to these new words –  can’t wait to get

Reading again, feeling the exquisite joy
of insight into the human psyche while
using my allotted time on the earth to
determine the why of my birth...

Past And Future [Rev]

I’m thoroughly miserable returning to a black
sitting room; the black fireplace & dark glass-
top table, the dark beige and brown couch, &
bland windows sans bead strings, the boring
curtains, the wooden old school-desk with a
threadbare carpet - and then I see

My collection of crystal, fairies and mermaids
hidden in the corner, shiny pearls and candle-
sticks, & the wonder of their beauty is bigger
than ever; I stare transfixed - that bare black 
outline of the wine-rack and useless fireplace
utensils forms a most perfect background for

My transparent treasures; the pink flowers,
all together in my bedroom corner, are a
delight for the eye - joy is condensed in one
quick burst of elated creation - with this I can
make it and plan a new beginning, colouring
my world with reflected rainbows in crystal

Perspectives filling the present moment with
past and future ornaments…

Feel Their Love [Rev]

Anti-Semitism is idiotism; why hate & destroy
a nation just because they succeed in living a
moral life - why measure adolescent jealousy
for them being superior to us when the fruits
of their excellent work benefit all of mankind,
why envy their talent when we have our very
own unique gifts also, when OUR childlike

Innocence and different perspective enables
us to offer our LOVE to the world in a warmer
way than the ethical, righteous Israeli can? -
We can choose to let go of frustration when
we fail to satisfactorily pollute their minds in
a way common to us, accept we can’t make
them as immoral as most to fit in – just as

Paul Gallico describes the puppet-master in
Love of Seven Dolls, this puppeteer cannot
bear his heroine’s childish innocence & trust,
tries to defile her, hurt her so much she will
change into a hating animal too, but he fails
spectacularly & he is won over by her love;
such as shown by an Israeli firm in Haifa -

Pluristem Therapeutecs injecting the lethal-
radiation patients with placenta-based cells
turning bone-marrow blood-cell production
to normal within 48 hours, and will provide
radiation antidote to the US when needed -
we’re trying to seduce Israel to begin hating
thru our antagonism, tho we can’t succeed

Due to quantum physics - the faith of this
moral nation is stronger than the physical
world’s bonds; keeping them among the
human races’ commonwealth benefits
all of us - just feel their love…

Isn’t That Grand [Rev.]

You unburdened your soul, telling me once again
how your suffering my house decorating takes so
much effort; my reply’s to lessen your pain, taking
down all my silver glitter bows that offend, storing
white lace, snowflakes, removing crystal glasses
and flowers from the deadpan black fireplace

Restoring a pristine blandness, calming your soul,
affording chances for new thinking why you can’t
face life with me about - my ideas driving you to
distraction, without imbibing you would not be able
to stand this - then you ask what’s wrong with your
brand of bland romance, your excellent character I

Reply, deserves my accolades, your dealing with
our son wasting your cash earns respect, & when
your soul-problems are solved - one of myriad
probabilities befalling one of our alternate selves -
you’ll appreciate how your faithful old mate always
praised your best qualities - now isn't that grand?

A Delightful Gift [R]

With no positive expectations for the weekend
I was feeling miserable - no swimming until my
wound has healed - swollen feet, headache, a
bloodshot eye and uncurbed anxiety, reaching
new depths of despair watching reruns of old
shows, America’s Got Talent where jumping
up and down’s considered a gift - just as I

Felt like sanity’s lost my son walks in and I tell
him my pain in absurd melodrama, he laughed
it away and blithely diagnosed I had one foot in
the grave while stomping around in caricature
of my clumping about calling for help; he kindly
offered to accompany me to the dread license
office and joked about all these anxieties

When he went to bed happiness filled my heart,
- though more laughter is needed to complete
the healing process, my perspective started to
change bringing freedom from irrational fears
to go it alone to a strange place & I realised
my son is a delightful gift…

An Atmospheric Presence

I share a dream of reality as an atmospheric
presence which is loving, powerful yet gentle
and intelligent - from which WE emerge and
still remain part of as we are woven in a multi-
dimensional cloth of infinite 3-D universes
teeming with shining laser-light minds

This expanding fabric never wears out as it
reweaves everything in ever new patterns in
an exuberance shining like the silver glitter
and crystal-consciousness of my gossamer
decorations representing exquisite thought-
forms which fabricate colour & sound from

Spiraling electro-magnetic energy , a dream
sent from a beautiful non-physical mind
waiting to share this wonder with us...

Tide Of Joy [Rev]

It’s so surprising and gratifying - the rain always waits
until I’m safe before it falls to earth with wild abandon,
carrying an umbrella is quite superfluous - my lovely
fuchsia coloured brolly is seldom used; this must be

Because my instincts are on par with the water in the
clouds waiting to precipitate, winds blew in opposite
directions just now, meaning there were two contrary
flows - I danced for the rain, singing at the top

Of my voice to express approval for its choice to visit
us this afternoon; Nici ran off complaining about her
mom but I’m unperturbed; at work I feel bad enough
to last me all my simultaneous lifetimes, here at home

I enjoy being free to dance & sing, watching canopies
of trees and the grass turning green, wiping Mufasa’s
giant fox terrier feet - the rain’s lessening but nothing
can stem the tide of joy in my heart

Lichen Of Guilt

There is a vindictive troll on my desk, making
spiteful accusations while offering confused
explanations in an unsettling phantasmagorical
confabulation of memories from the mind of a
self-styled long-suffering victim  - expressing

In a cacophony of brash tunes depicting self-
absolution, the troll insists she’s a good Golem
but the written chem in her head was affected,
she calls her kids evil - begging the question:
bad education or bad genes; clearly denoting

The mother a troll; this tragedy befell me right
after I spilled nail varnish on my reading glasses
teaching me never to paint silver glitter on my
nails at work, it’s so pretty I painted my flip-
flops also - resulting in a mess on my desk

My list of woes goes on: I owe the dentist, have
to pay this debt with credit, my finances driving
me to distraction, I’m not a conscientious Golem
myself – just a nutty troubadour suffering when
I have to relay screeching lines into a similar

Version in another key, my transitions always go
wrong forcing my colleagues to change my whole
song, choose another key and uproot the chords
to make it more congenial to their superincumbent
taste, I give up, this troubadour-troll has too much

Lichen of guilt on my stony body, can’t master the
skill of relaying original dissonant songs in a key
which soothes my godly masters - wearing halos
suffused with the golden glory of their grand skills
while regarding my trollish self with supercilious

Contempt knowing their supremacy & authority
make them invincible, forever relegating me to
tending the hearth - while they rejoice because
I have no fairy godmother & can only dream of
having a perfect chem in my head…

From The Inside [Rev]

Strange, I can reach the subatomic consciousness
of my computer, but not my brain’s particles with its
synapses firing at random  & reacting to my eating
oats with pain, can’t order my ideas after receiving
a confusing text of jumbled notes to be relayed as
a clear melody - my brain refuses to kick in

No symbolic key turns on my mental ignition - why
does my laptop heed requests while my brain cells
refuse to cooperate, why does outside experience
change as a result of my presence, yet my private
thinking mechanism remains completely unmoved
orbiting a secret inner universe beyond my reach

Maybe this body belongs to the little alien in my head
not the outer ego I’ve taken such pains to cultivate –
maybe in the eternal future I’ll meet the real Gestalt
who controlled my painstakingly constructed, almost
rational outer ego trying to survive physical life - and
the emotional Little Alien directing my actions

From the inside…

All Things Restored [Rev]

This is what a miracle is: contrary to prediction &
all expectations I prayed & fiddled with my laptop
plug and battery, moving the whole array into the
kitchen - and suddenly see: contact was made &
my laptop is not dead - not ready to be buried as
Scorpio said, it’s still alive and kicking; why does

Scorpio always assume the worst scenario when
prayer resurrects this oh-so-magical device every
time; after waiting for it to charge I applied honey
for a facial mask and enjoyed the sharp pains in
my wound which was dressed three times today,
marvelling in hearing restored by ear-drops and

Antibiotics - then I tried my laptop where a magic
of miracle-making took place again, my heart flies
high on seeing how everything’s back to the usual;
the reader may assume this is boringly normality -
yet if you do the miracle will stop, so please don’t,
I shall rejoice in all things restored as bewitching

Miracles, the faith and joy in these events are sure
to make this happen over and over - again & again
& again: all this my contribution to consciousness -
delight in unusual things makes life a magical
occurrence….

Crest Of A Wave [Rev]

Lurched into the office with my right-arm wound
covered in gentian violet & an inflamed left ear -
my incredibly efficient colleague looked up with
an ice-cold stare disapproving my poor slinking
being & ashamed of arriving as a creepy crawly
I cringed at my desk - until Hanlie arrived with a

Sunshine greeting offering me a miniature rose
in a silver glitter container - gesticulating wildly I
explained my lurching and slinking encouraged
by Hanlie’s approving chuckles  - and thus I felt
absolved from those dark feelings of impending
doom precipitated by our superior high-brow

Iceberg colleague’s disdain shooting piercing
shards into my heart; suddenly there was Alet
limping with bursitis and we joked about each
other until we were shrieking in merriment like
2 banshees having Spike-Milliganesque fun or
watching old Carry-On slap-stick comedies

This hilarity called forth my most optimistic
and enthusiastic alternate self until Dark-Me
was buried under layers of vaudeville riding
the crest of a wave of triumphant burlesque
unstoppable – only until we had to face my
sub-zero Darth Vader colleague again…

Miniature Rainbows [Rev]

Stuck here in time with a wound on my arm
Alice thought, with the Duchess on her way,
in my hand Petruschka’s gift, a paperweight
I think is great - a beautiful transparent key-
ring and silver glitter for my Duchess & her
crystal consciousness, a weighted table net

covering for dishes when her entertainment
requires such finesse, a lovely book for the
Queen of Hearts, an illustrated treasure that
I found difficult to part from - all presented in
white & silver gift wrap; I can’t wait to hand
these over hoping that my love shines in the

gesture, may our meeting be blessed and
may they have adventures & challenges &
then rest peacefully content; their presence
seems such an unexpected joy, time & place
still have to be determined to suit all parties,
may fences be mended such that they will

feel welcome where my prismatic crystals
shine in miniature rainbows…

Cheerful Independence

Filling in a leave form with a brain of frozen foam
turned into a great administrative marathon - got
the date wrong, a signature forgotten - Madame
La Pompadour rolled her eyes looking stern and
wise while admonishing me, a momzilla carrying
on as if nobody ever had a child as dear as mine:

You’re a fool to think your kid – with such poise
and self-assurance, will have problems flying to
Mexico, this will be a breeze for her, - & I agree
knowing this was true for different reasons, the
host of angels going with her keeps growing as
I implore for more; the whole world covered by

Figures of light assuring me they will guard my
darling all the time; only people vetted by them
will cross her path and ruffians intercepted ‘ere
they arrive:  I looked up and saw her personal
bodyguard ready to take flight & embark with
her, my heart is light since Whispering Hope

Is here and made it clear that a girl so dear will
never be alone, her faith’s strong, her integrity
formed by John Maxwell & her theories of love
based on Leo Buscaglia, she’ll honour the least
important and be reserved towards the rich and
arrogant; laughing, taking photos, working hard

Having a good time while saving for her vision
of cheerful independence in which she’ll be
an angel herself…

Experience Of Love

Every child born changes the universe – how to
determine the validity of this – by looking at our
own kids and feel the difference, the world before
and then after their arrival - astrology is so limited
because it claims astral bodies determine a child

Yet the reality is consciousness freely chose the
parameters of its existence prebirth & afterwards
because present & future influence the past; such
an interesting theory, such possibility, therefore –
may we change the past of all those who suffered

Can we go back and take away pain? If it’s true, I
want to change the past for grandma Alice, want to
send her to the ball, make her feel her importance
and how wonderful her loving existence, her hard
work taking care of everyone requesting her help

When I moved to a new place she came with me as
I was afraid, but I never showed her how happy she
made me – please, if this is the future that changes
the past, let these wonderful moments of gratitude
change grandma’s life into an experience of love

Let her drudgery become a starlit performance under
the footlights – let my love shine through…

Confused Fool [Rev]

I can’t eat, can’t sleep, though I keep eating and
suffer nausea because of it - I can’t think - can’t
rest at night, my eyes won’t close & let in sleep
for fear of passing time & my daughter leaving;
wide-awake it seems time slows, that it will be a
long time before she goes -

How pathetic this is, how stupid of me – I take
my sleeping pill every night and it doesn’t help,
the little alien in my head won’t shut down, only
allows me foreboding something bad’s going to
happen, an adventure so good for my child which
feels so bad to me, permanently nauseous -

I chew frantically to appease my fearful heart with
food, try to defrost my frozen mind, follow routines,
but my head hurts such I’m imprisoned in my skull,
I can’t socialise with colleagues or continue with my
duties, the Duchess cleverly told me to Skype in
future when I miss my child - but I won’t be there to

Protect her; the fact of the matter’s I don’t want her
to leave - I want her home, to see her cheeky face,
enjoy a group hug - watch Japanese animations
with her, teasing ’til she chases me from her room -
I don’t want her to go; fatigued I wish to sleep - but
can’t close my eyes, can’t read, can’t watch TV

Wide awake with a useless, frozen brain, anxiety
changing me into an irrational, useless, confused
idiot who doesn’t know what she should do…

A Frozen Brain [Rev]

The cause of all my heart-ache asked me what’s
wrong mom, I quoted my litany of woes - oh, she
said, pacified, and told me of a nightmare which
indicated she was stressed and worried - then it
struck me: I can’t get over the fact that she’ll be
leaving ALL ALONE to go to Mexico - the list of
dangers awaiting her growing longer in my mind,
she’s so small cheating traders will mistake her
for a child & in the end she gives up arguing

She might be lonely - evil strangers could take
advantage of her with no-one there to protect her,
her leaving is traumatic - yet this is such a great
opportunity I can’t stand in her way so I pay the
dues of motherhood: a frozen brain that stopped
working as anxiety’s overriding everything, I can’t
think with unseeing eyes - cook vegetables then
forget to eat - sit and stare as pain of imminent
loss destroys the physical world: she’s going

Away all alone, she dreamed the devil drove
her demon-possessed car - another scar on
my heart filled with fear for her safety, freezing
my mind - no firing synapses left in my brain due
to heartache - I wish to keep her where we can
protect her - an impossibility, my heart’s frozen
too, my whole life’s freezing in the fear of one
frantic thought: she’s going away all alone and
I can’t stop her….

Terrible Secret [R]

I had forgotten - I was Dr Jekyll - with a dark
and terrible secret: Mr Hyde lurks within me,
ready to pounce when I least expect, & when
he gets out with his Dionysian joy in creating
new and unheard-of things, changing worlds
into dreams, he writes creative texts that can
not be accepted in technical & legal contexts

Dr Jekyll’s absolutely shattered when dealing
with the mess left - the headache - heartache
so unbearable, the humiliation of showing the
world my dark side: routine boredom leads to
tragic creativity injuring Jekyll’s reputation as
a responsible member of society once again,
accusations threatening early assassination

Unable to account for the bold lines & strong
text changes, my Dr Jekyll can just helplessly
explain the black hole in his brain, wishing his
alternate selves were better behaved - kinder
& conventional, not creating problems for the
unsuspecting members of the long-suffering
language-practitioner fraternity…

[STORY:

I have many alternate selves - you already know about
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde - the black hole in my brain and
mind, Mr Hyde always creates fabulous translations by
summarising the source text and making it better and
when my colleagues hand back my work with every line
changed, I realise Mr Hyde did the work and Dr Jekyll
will take the punishment. Poor Dr Jekyll spent the day
suffering, realising the terrible mess in my work station
should have alerted him to the presence of Mr Hyde –
but too late - in any case - this is Dr Jekyll's offering
explaining his injured feelings & contrite misgivings.]

Incorrigible [R]

Oh, I wish someone could teach me English: working
in an assembly-line government unit, it would help so
much if I knew how to write proper English, if only to
relay other languages in a perfect way - such as my 

Accomplished superior seniors can, it’s a pity that all
my alternate selves are incorrigible in the extreme -
finding it impossible to convey any text according to
the rulebook that reigns supreme in the life of every

Well-adjusted, gifted rule-bound editor, especially
given the amazingly beautiful and clear-cut, stream-
lined source texts which thrill the true official to the
bones, but which my alternate selves can’t fathom

Sentences – atrocious, pronouns – disgusting & all
verbs shocking with terminology a hanging offence,
the original text could only be saved by rephrasing
everything: who assigned a complete Taugenichts

To work for the poor, unfortunate soul who presented
such a lovely source text explaining why he’s so lost,
so sad, so victimised in his victimhood, my version of
his sad tale was taking this poor, unfortunate soul

To destruction, luckily the rulebook-coterie came to his
aid with a pristine depiction of all the crimes committed
against him in flowing lines of the purest poetry, perfect
in syntax and meaning, lovingly created to caress the

Eye and ear of the reader and please the palate; some-
thing I could never accomplish in a million years…

Buy Fly Spray

So you start a list of things 

to do with an opening item 

‘Write A To-Do List’; it’s a 

moment of consequence, 

stirs immediate feelings 

of accomplishment and 

imminent prospects 

of dizzying success 

Something bugs you, 

non-specific, an irritation 

like an annoying fly 

buzzing randomly – 

though not too intrusive; 

you place the opening 

item centrally using 

capitals and bold type 

On second thoughts, 

increase to size 20, 

underline, add highlighter: 

look at that, desired impact 

achieved, it’s formidable! 

buzzing gradually 

dwindles into awe 

of rapt silence 

Now who is it says you 

can’t get things done 

without a plethora 

of avoidance strategies, 

ingrained procrastination 

and creative diversions – 

see, there’s the proof 

 – with grandiose buzz 

And that reminds me: 

‘Buy fly spray’ 

© 17 February 2012, I. D. Carswell

Best Outcome [Rev]

Aha, finally I know why the Lord and Master 
of the Crocodile Castle’s been so unhappy 
for three years in a row - and so I can pray 
for the best outcome. After all the atheists 
& agnostics have had their say; I don’t know 
what is the Power when I pray - but despite 
their direst predictions, my invocations are 
heard - I suppose it is because I’m a real 
pain when concerned, so upon asking for 
protection of my comrades I know the best 

Outcome will be realised; and as my sis the 
haughty Duchess on her cloud of peppery-
tongued anger and her Petruschka, the very 
marvellous puppet of Russian theatre, are 
visiting real soon, I think it would be a boon 
if I can use my enforced bus voucher to go 
down to the Cape and return with their help,
or vice versa, go down with them and return 
to home with the voucher, whatever the final 
solution; it would make up for my losing the 

Money only to be redeemed by a bus trip; so 
“Here I go, singing low Bye, bye sweetheart” 
“I’m leaving on a bus trip, don’t know when 
I’ll be home again” chocoholic mom and dad 
will feed me the best chocolaty sweets; how 
great that is, still having parents being 55 
myself; let me dream on this & create such 
a great experience with the Duchess and 
her cute Petruschka - while the Lord and 
Master of The Crocodile Castle refuses 

To budge, of course….

Flee Being Me [R]

All’s calm, boring sentences without charm, life 
quietly continuing its languid flow - I’m checking
expressionless terms - suddenly all hell breaks
loose, colleague’s voice rising in cadences, I’m 
trying to find my IPod, unplug the earphones to 
find Chopin playing on computer adding to the 
rumpus, plug lost in growing confusion and a 
hot flush of frustration makes matters worse

Finally, plug located & La Cumparsita calms my
nerves - but after this fracas my concentration - 
always on the brink of extinction, is lost, a new 
me in a different universe: Will she continue with 
the grey translation or go Internet-surfing to find 
Seth explaining a self is infinite, extent limitless, 
as yet she’s typing notes on what just happened 
so I can’t tell what she’ll do next, but she’s very 

Compliant, quiet and self-reliant, I think she will 
continue where I broke off, live the life I have to 
flee being me…

Love Her So Much [R]

The magic of dreams, of consciousness, of having 
been taught infallible terms to realise visions; each 
time my laptop at home stops working & refuses to 
open, claiming flat battery despite an electric cable 
connecting it, I pray, using a still effective scheme 
taught me as a child, then remove and reinsert the 
battery, reconnect the cable & lo, my laptop opens; 
I can pour out joys & tragedies - the joy is my little 
girl’s landed a lovely job on a cruise ship - tragedy 
is each time I print the information for her I realise 

She’ll be gone for a long time; my motherly instinct 
makes me cry, already wrenching my heart to think 
she’ll be so far away, its terrible being torn between  
options: what’s best for my daughter and my desire 
to keep her with me where I can see and touch her; 
I know the same magic that keeps my laptop going  
will keep her safe, but oh, it’s such heartache when 
she’s leaving, her bright little mind formed more by 
TV and school than myself: No, not true, she walks 
about singing her favourite songs, smiling at those 

Others shun, she’s a sweetheart & soon everyone
on the cruise ship will know it; I do all my crying in 
advance so when the day of her leaving comes I’ll 
be calm & composed - she’s the sweetest wee girl 
the World’s ever seen - love fills my heart to over-
flowing - how much she means to me just sitting in 
her room pouting & publicly  castigating me when 
I’m too childish for her sophisticated taste, it’s why 
I love her so much it hurts…

Crocodile Princess [Rev]

With a box on my chair - the friendly one, not that menacing threat 
with four attacking claws rolling on one wheel towards me to prick 
my feet & scratch my legs ‘til I bleed; my back support is strapped
to my waist & I’m sitting down, my computer screen high, keeping 
neck-vertebrae safe - feet burning from standing in the morning, & 
scrubbing in the bath to change my barefoot Achilles heels into the
delicate pink feet seen in advertisements

Work on Boegoeberg reminds of sounds like Kelkiewyn, Kokkewiet, 
Bokmakierie & Piet-My-Vrou; a complainant’s endless list of injuries
suggests he protests too much - how can whole districts suddenly 
become predators & attack like a pack of wolves in central Siberia - 
what did this whining guy do to arouse a large rural group’s ire such 
they prevented him enjoying his right as a human being to water all 
the time. I always suspect provocation when one person claims to 

Be an innocent victim, decrying a whole group of evildoers; I wrestle 
his letter to the ground, reading between the lines, if NOBODY is on 
this man’s side he has alienated everyone; let’s relay tragic words of 
this tortured soul to sing his litany of self-justified accusation against 
the people sharing Planet Earth with him - let me finish this text and 
construct a production sheet to inform micro-managed Government 
of my every breath which is the Politicians’ way to count pennies as

Billions are unaccounted; I fought Portuguese terms to the ground 
& discovered Spanish is a big train smash even though my alternate 
selves came through from the stars and chipped in while they let me 
live in this universe as a happy crocodile who went to lunch crooning 
“The Hills Are Alive” to herself - practically feeling the perfect Mary
Poppins’ sparks - whirling around London’s Chimneys; a Crocodile 
Princess is in the sky with her, too happy to stay on the ground…