This is, the Bonafide motherfucker – the insatiable handsomely pressed one who they’ve all been waiting with eyes wide open for

Bottom drawer bottom dollar enunciation, says precisely what he has been permitted to see

And these droves carry these people swarmed to warm within, til unimaginably set imaginations apart

High Art and he can diversify to follow bespoke aside righteously chokehold suit

Has been stressing against the old, aged and dreadfully archaic system, where rip worn torn uselessly structured words hold no modern meaning, no more purpose

Yes, once upon a lonesome four-walled lonesome writer’s time, perhaps
The brand new forever readied Samurai and his sword is coated in plastic fantastic utensil ink spiller gold, gendered and garnered and grasped and grabbed at … to inevitably, altogether authentically Make You And Your Chosen Few Think to a point of no going back

Folliws his very own track — row row row your boat and gently fuxk off, please —

Opens his stripped lips and begins all over again … the pen never even asked for his hand ..

Here he will stand – hand upon his uninterrupted heart, centre stage about to wage wicker word war and write this particular name into the crippled-about-to-be-renewed sands

Rejigged at carefree unedited will — this is, simply He

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