Simple Theories

  A prophetic voice gets to speak and even say how bushes are imagined. Chained quaintly to so pacific an idea, and from heaven sent as designated. Talking, flaming, simmering in old ways to follow. Now just little tree greening, growing, with vigour or no. And how they grow: leafy, petulant, frenzied as undergrowth or overspread. The shortnight of autumn signals a change, the mask comes off. The bush of voice speaks freely, the way of day as bushes lose their leaves. Rooted in tense earth with effective fund, and words sorted. People minor and low key declare bushes with anything words know, yet small interstices mark lacunae. Dreams pay out, motets, motors, or maintenance, stridency to name a few. And if clouds lift above Gaza where the time, so the bush in the hands of a burning voice, and the further light mulct from pharisees. Remain alert as you hear the reading of the burning, Pharaohs enjoy a cover story while others float downstream. The intended land recruits the vice gri...

  Just to say: Empedocles does not reside here, nor much for ideas. The cavalcade enjoys its own parse. Some pyramids fester in purpose. The heroes just seem baked. They read no further. Entonces . Tiglath-Pileser produced fame in the fuzzy millennia ago. Revolution notes with different names refreshes at the border. Language has a steely grip, if you look hard enough. You see plenty with that muscle you talk with. In retrospect only one time can fill ago, the simple mind explains. Today, just today, as relief shows sun and other maximums, and scarce data. Backtracking goes forward again. Call it a march and step true. In response, then, to any sniff of Lenin, the wheels turn. Up is still the latest direction to get down. Reaction is the first forward, after so much stunning.  Friends, we have seen this before.

  Great Vladimir Ulyanov, our undying vocable presence, had a working hat and intention to help for the ages. Formalized force of understanding stretched to unpacific meaning and articulations of action for the future of centuries or timelessness: such the golden path he blazed. In reaction to plus modern wrenching and specified viral fevers and tort, the cannonade proceeds with the thump of marching feet. This scales to greater glory or something closer to terminal in terms of sparks and the moment they exist. The hat worn by Ulyanov—Lenin, as you know—warms the theories and provocations with due snap of sharp synapses. Trays were passed around as the Congress proceeded with minutely equitable servings of potato soup and bread of the most dire nutritional crunch. Discussion by fostered wordlessness flourished as action overcame the moment and stirred the relics of past success. Smoother arguments were made like giddy winds and pressure system surprises. A day and barricade, strin...

  Annals of only   Allen Ginsberg , in the rum and coke our city. In the stadia excited. In practice practicum.   The walls stand high to the gods, especially the most god, especially the gloomy god and technical knock. Especially a city of god, made of god walls and wails. A poem makes a principal. Separation strives for distinction. Walls complete. A tree reaches. Pioneer howls this god to the other god described. This becomes the language of that.  This close in high terms remains in unforgetting glamourie and pulp. Long, lean idylls of champions. This is this now.  Bardo stuck, blown from nuanced to new once. A practical guide to practical guides subsumed, tributes to tributes sow the saying. We can say one was only only, and so it continues.

  upon ziggurats and ramparts finials of astonishment apprehended  and completion in the framed god and eye for thr future we citizens have to believe in  melisma the crow sighting objectively principal  murmurration pigeons a field energy all quantum language broached  action of community life as such and in all suchness