None Too Soon
To be located in memories without precedent. That’s the necessary antidote to déjà vu where so many syllables have been squandered in pliant confirmation. The more non-existent of the gods are the only ones counting your blunders. Hard to forget. What of the yearning mind, or thoughts that so intricately deform the musculature of a smile. The only worthwhile wish of which I’m currently aware is to construct a logical space-time bracket in which all the animals are sometimes dreaming.
The Ventriloquist’s Dilemma
Bird song entered our words and left with migratory echoes insufficiently dispersed. We weren’t designed to perceive most of what surrounds us or to fully understand the rest. Maybe it’s true that differential equations drove the teenager off the road. The self-propagating slope remains unhindered in its x-y axis. It’s really difficult to find the language to say these things rigorously. Sound waves break on the shore and make one feel unwelcome. And too, there’s that conspicuous absence of real metaphors in nature. Sorry, meant to say, there’s that conspicuous absence of real nature in metaphors. Someone will always claim night flew into a tree. The placement of those words in a line.
The Long And Short Of It Thought Experiment
Feed long and short beaked pigeons the same food, same food. Exercise long and short legged quadrupeds in the same, same manner. Expose long and short-haired sheep to the same climate climate. Then and only then, direct every time-line toward the same set of nesting horizons. Can we go on this way? One step takes longer than anyone ever thought it would and is still hovering in the air, the shadow is getting longer, the whole earth is growing hot and cold, hot and cold. Let any long and short lifespan equal the same function of x divided by zero. We can now observe that the results of these and other experiments are adding up to an old geometry of the tragic spectrum—the more the terror, the less the pity. That’s the long and short of it.
Fierce Love Story
To start with a taxonomic impediment and yet go on. Looking always for news of another kind. Great saturated patches of color stall in their rumble toward the horizon. Squeeze-tube dearth full of biblical pornography. Sit back and watch in awe as one sophisticated critter eviscerates another on the color-coded screen. No greater love, etc. Much too bright or not enough to be convincing descriptions of nature. For the unconvinced, then, the following three consolations: Sonorous cowboys hitch up primate dungarees. To restore the comfort of silence is the role of objects. A little girl wanders in and out of the color field just beyond our grasp.
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