New English Empire I.D.

     Worn on the Achilles, like a Boba “The” Fett new world man…


But that’s a DL??


Ah, THERE it is. USA is a start-up country stolen from England. Or started? I pay homage to the Queen of UK like Canadians do.

    I am a one man zoo.

    My ID boasts a firey picture, no name and just part of the UK slab-banner. Sluhbbanner!
Its a bananer. Banana? Bandana! For my right foot swift to justice and not evil.

     I bear a license I made… to CONDUCT and drive me-self. Syntaxsinner is my alma I.D.- on a shelf. I am not all countries. Lil ambassador to some. I started this New English Empire… before the idea is won.

      I syntax-sin. I win. To a king Isa-Il of the muslims’s world I bow alone to He. Living in Oregon Forest is for me. And visit the Queen or King Harry? We will see.

     King Harry??? Yes! Look at the RED. He is genetic blood of the REAL KING of U.K.

     (I am a bit crazy, okayyy??)

     UK! Its MY ISLAND. I know her, poeticise her, caress her land with admiring internet eyes, fondle her.. ER- fond of her… Scotland is her rugged love. She started shit in 1000 A.D.?? He broke her hands and feet. And did he lay shag carpet in her pantry?? No. He silently died after WAR long ago.

     But He did not die. He simply fought and traced England’s shape. Wallace was dowry. Am I MAD now? The land is married… or merry. May God save the queen, the current wedding ring her crown- Harry is the silent Noble of Ancients?- a new ild position.

      See Harry in War. See him home when done. I am manly, Andy, proud. Proud to be Afridi and Harrison. Spiritually. The UK Beattles sing to me. I am no one. A midnight marrying monk, maybe. Rowan bishop on the arch may not see.

     I own you. I lose you. I hold you down to take you to places? I am confused. I am a ruddy whitely horse under the horseman for which English UK banner stands. King Cross and a reaper. Inspiring freedom to lands.

      He made the lands. He make us breathe. His identity is Jesu Sanctu koom matrimonum koom manu. Kiss the hand, clean your saffron pre-kilt. In the waters of today. All lands go to all the meek controlled, able, strong, just. The crown is destined for William under Wallace. Crown him we must.

  But long live the Queen.
Victoria, Victoria. She lives
in secret house Victoria. And you know her name. More than a dame. She works dawn to dusk. Not in Bentleys on autobahns, not eating bon bons.

    God save her,
   She is Queen NOW of many lands claimed and admiring her.
   God save the Queen.
Bride of pure Christendom adore her. Bless her. And bless the Kingdoms under the Kingdom to come.

May it be so.


Sanctu Vitalis Sanctu Requiem us,

A. Harrison
Jester of
West West West Chester,
  Oregon chunk, 97222
   Unincorporated UK territory,
(Lost Lands)


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