Random snippets surprise—speaking to need,
omniscience, top tile planetariums; if lucky, it will explain itself.
I need a trip—deeper into mind-matter, desperate
functionality; in each art, the secret is redundancy.
A palm of emptiness becomes a prayer of value.
It doesn’t matter, in saying something obvious, most
know how they appeared.
Granola
and milk; maybe a Barnhouse session; maybe a new chapbook—by some grand
priestess, to hear her song in each verse.
Might
have stumbled on it—it goes deeper, a nameless name, an olden spirit. It goes
deeper—one, two, they know each other, unbeknownst to the newer perceptions;
nay, just certain characteristics making for announcements.
Been
a while.
I
prefer write, gander back, catch some nuance.
Many rites, adrift asunder, like recruits and
proselytes. Alpha has no ending, and omega has no beginning; tireless efforts,
too consuming, idle time aches, thoughts go astray, better to keep a focal
point.
Crescent
rise. Luminous shadow. Broken weavings.
Speculation
be it a steam sure art in memory
sliding into conscious nightshade
made of lux, diamond, destiny;
be it a steam sure art in memory
folding hands, a live symphony
to travel alive, sullen born brave;
be it a steam sure art in memory
sliding into conscious nightshade.
