Monday, April 1, 2013

Amities to Be'Be', please...



I said I always preferred the literal meaning of a description to the symbol behind it.


Remaking it. The Nabataeans.


For these are the rogue of our soil, 
emerald topped where Spring's 
even pilgrims glide about 
handy heating focal desertly.


a wrinkle in time, or in clime,
combined
make 'classical dagger'
a puncta
if no Damocletian wink


Rarely do we conform to much of what is stated, nor
fail to conform, such is the nature
of its flat genitality


Hello Walter. I found this little office here at Pompeii, so I thought I'd call you.
Don't cut the turkeys with razors anymore, or sew gems in the soiled
of our scabbard head.


For I am Ramses, lone tit of the top of a gingerbread swirly.


Green shoes spat. Communist coveralls. Sick royal yellow mandarin journalist shirt
patterned with young banana. Hairbrush! Knotted tail. Tetraskeezic emblem of the magnitude of Syntaxis, and the basic 4-string blowhole of speech. blue dandy bow-tie. BINGO!
The engineer of no democracy's design! And all of space to go.


It is a plain sphere of beer saved from bonds and bones stiffened by a stupid imprisonment!


Nature can never be distorted since it has no original unchanging form except change. Nature itself is distortion, and our notions of order or chaos are but renderings of an impossibly slow largeness, and an impossibly small velocity. I shan't go to cafe's or go hunting.


ornery prunes, librettist:
Plato.