Much was new in Paris universities in 1969. Signs filtered thru intention, extreme weight loss in strictures, potent conversion rights, grey stone building brightly available, the undue but over rich noise. So ramparts filled proverbially, lexical lines drawn to engaged students and enraged hermetics. So prompting was 1969 light, moon available, liberal stanzas. Beat fills sails, church bells thud ludic moon. So dainty of history, so prologue. Paris happened in 1969, with ingrown specifics and vegetive language. A headache never changed. Had no electricity, only candles and the brakeman’s duffel bag. Sack cloth, and little else blurring celebration.
It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.
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