Hast not thou made an hedge about him, and about his house,For far from the beaten track in my autistic offroad I have taken the fork that leads to the thicket and so thickly embedded am I that there is no wood save only trees.
and about all that he hath on every side? thou hast blessed
the work of his hands, and his substance is increased in the
But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, and
he will curse thee to thy face.
Hedged against the hordes of Hell
I would to well, not to tell.
To tear out my traitor tongue.
My hands I ought to mangle.
I should never wrangle
Nor tackle with the Leviathan of legislation
Source and tributory of tribulation.
They twist my words to lies.
They lay down when it is not done
What I would really have for all
And not for I alone.
Behind my back, the attack
The talking, smirking
"What is wrong with him, that he should protest so loud."
"Hey you get offa my cloud"
With clouded judgements, muffled minds
Enfogged in self attachment
Never witness to the far sight of the unsightly
Rightly encumbered only in what they clothe themselves.
To hell if you are naked, freezing in there scorn
They would rather that you had never been born
Ignore us all, build up that wall,
I should never walk that tall
That my head is taken off above the parapet.
Well will I ever see my way through to the shining city on the hill?
If you want to help, follow the link and order your DVD's of "whichever way" off the NAS and give them to your librarie, otherwise there is no demand and it will never be repeated.
No-one wants a post modernist autist intertextual intellectual