Where I Come From

we don’t play around. not thinking of corrections, your moves are imminent and chess-like. so strategic and full of tacts; sometimes even murderous. now take me down that memory lane where the night was starred and an icy pitcher joined us down the tavern near the grassy quadrant, when y’said your folks rate intelligence as arrogance. that people of education are less of human and more of stuck-ups. that being literate is only a haughty measure and really, is quite a shame. that knowledge is nothing but a tool for the greedy.

my earrings wiggle when you said you were going against your old mates’ canon.

perhaps where you’re from playing around with wits is sufficient to get by. nothing like my cradle where funny people are a disgrace and stand-ups are just a bunch of boring clowns. useless tossers. as if no good comes out of humour…as if every punchline is tasteless. while of course some salarymen are muchly godlike and secretly more justified beings. see it now

yours and mine, on reversing ends of the spectrum.

what could be more polarised than this. some strive for the wealth of culture, some succumb into the flickering pride. but now that i can appreciate Jimmy Carr, it’s simple. the quickest wits flown out from the brain of comics, hands fucking down. it’s a mindtrick. but do you reciprocate? what is Zaha Hadid to you? or Thomas Friedman? sure enough the brainiacs construct…

or do they?

millionaires, billionaires, aristocrats and Lords


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