Archive for August 12th, 2016

見自己 見天地 見眾生

Letter to an Ex, on the Occasion of His Suicide

Anni Bukin1b

Deepest forever apologies, my sorrowful, my lost one.
So much gratitude, my idiot, my love.




Here is a reminder of the great Francesca Bell (above) who has no truck for editors. As published in the Rattle, 2013:

I Long to Hold the Poetry
Editor’s Penis in My Hand

and tell him personally,
I’m sorry, but I’m going
to have to pass on this.
Though your piece
held my attention through
the first few screenings,
I don’t feel it is a good fit
for me at this time.
Please know it received
my careful consideration.
I thank you for allowing
me to have a look,
and I wish you
the very best of luck
placing it elsewhere.


We see ourselves, we see the stars, but to see all life? Not quite…



Sometimes I hate you, sometimes I hate myself, but always I miss you. — David Henry Hwang

还是不能回到你的身边   我的爱 请稍等



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It’s a moniker-in-a-trademark, above: Pure Shiite pictures himself a monkey beneath a clown mask. Where have we seen the clown? Najib’s PMO wall? Sama-sama Malaiyoo: all the monyets of Nusantara.


Here is the piece of pure shit Malaiyoo-tocrazy trying to nail another Malaiyoo, the first to find the second, Apandi Ali, and to declare of him dereliction of duty then take over.

Here’s the problem: Since when did a piece of pure Malaiyoo shit thinks he is fit for Apandi’s job?

Yet, this is precisely his purpose, so that Pure Shiitee has, in his resume, gone over point by point in telling Apandi where he failed. It is a strange way to try and seize someone’s job, but that’s what he has done, writing well into 4:30 a.m. (he said so) a long, winding two-in-one letter-and-resume addressed to Apandi.

It’s titled ‘Open Letter to the Missing Public Prosecutor‘. Missing? Well, for the answer, he might try looking under his mistress’s Golok bed; Apandi could be there while he was penning late into the starry night. Or try under the Mrs bed. Or even Apandi.

Such a fault-finding letter is no way to fill somebody’s shoes. What a shitee Malaiyoo, a motherfucker’s ‘madefaker’ (his word actually), doing something like this to a brother Malaiyoo. It must be a shitee Malaiyoo fraternity, so adept at spilling out each others guts, shit and all.

Still, Shiitee Malaiyoo ‘hopes’ the other Ali Malaiyoo ‘will answer’. What are the chances?

For a start, try laying out your case clearly and sensibly. So, here, is how to do it; a small humble effort to assist Pure Shiitee increase his chances of both finding Apandi and then to take over the job:


[Patience. Next installment… Maybe.]



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