Simple Theories

  From the East a river falls, through venom dales, with mire and clods, godly slough, as is recognized. The Deities into imagination prance, coltish, even fresh of desperation. The troupe of Deities en masse bring gravity low and firm. True rocks, true planetary quiver on the plain, true spice of wind and formal rain. From East, invigorated just this minute, and to the embracing nest that is west. One named impulse brings the spear of lightning. Another vibrates to the tune of thunder. Note how easy the word seems, echo upon echo. Listen again, the true note begins.

  In the far light, not the near light. Some Deities or fog, the way light bends around truth or anything like cattle. In truth the word used lays low and patient, like a mushroom. The Deities scamper with playful dated instructions, as everyone knows. Rain seizes the sky. Portents scatter at dusk without much importance. The sun fades again but will return. The respondents, full of winning slur, carry jokes in dull red hats. Their Deities, called gods or tremendous, throw patchwork into the breech. The wind blows instantly, even then.

  In nine worlds remember, nine trees, the great central tree, beneath the earth. All that and soundings of whales, whole whales, from big sea. In the future thought of now, posted to believeable, grand lakes proved wetter, mud more desperate. No imagination could contain the legend of dull red hats. Only encumbered words, like Satan’s last year shoes. We feel the waves of sinking. Each word has been plain and itemized, collated as belief.

  Dark imagined gully dragging down expiate. The best worst place, by gods and goddesses established as Deities and rules. Dante of course by the helping hand. These that rule those, until turned so in forgiven. These then the best Deities tho partway. lissome perfect stuff pillow under your head. Forget when you weren’t forgetting and forget again. Kennings and circumlocutions in the court of Time. It is a forge and forging time, every bit. So the established post-beginning mires easily in talkshow or nasal congestion, bad penny or mindless red hat. The Deities serve no one but bust a move in seizure time. Splays out so: different heavens. Talking rivers, boastful trees, lightning overheard speaks thunder, mindful of casualty. And luck has nothing to do with It. It strikes a pose and holds in Moment. That, that moment consternation, the Deities know.

  The winch of preternatural mountain voices echoes in the most even of ears. The wee votive folk lock in askance but coupled. Mountain glares from the heights of investiture. A piece of exploded truck tire composes the little part of the world. Tree idea forms, and dryad enough so. So dryad finds tree, tree dryad. Busy Deities in the shadows of afterthought and glacial remove report close gesture. Tree heard sentence. Practical distances grow vague and astonishing. No meanwhile exists, only moment grows. The look of danger expedites the fear from unguarded Deities. They have big imagined quickly, on the skirts of all time. O muse, the causes and the crimes relate.

  Beginning began so it has become a burgeoning time with full-throttle efflorescence and hopeful attitudes towards beneficent Deities and tomorrow’s weather. Sonically the singing cannot not escape into the listening air. Flowers of intent florality reach anxious senses with scents and sensibilities. And so the Deities, full of harp tones and magistrate, bring people together to offer them, the Deities, praise and approval for this or that day, whatever, and green grass. Green grass doesn’t perform much but specifically thank the stars blinking merrily for grass robustly being where it is about now. A need to dance about or wear bathing suits commands most people suddenly in this time after previous time, the air electric. Look about and see the new-made elder world of going on and even on. Side trips to infernos not needed tho imagine the disappointment to have eternity. The Deities prepared us for days of reverence, perseverance, and the crowning disappointment of time passing. ...

  The deities have expanded abruptness. We have the documentation, reports, and mythology ready to go. We approve of the shiny folk dressed in togas and light that stand for something that we expect to stand. Their vigor shows radiance and born designer sense. They make us think of greatness as a plum. The cold purple plum skin embraces a sweet fortitude and small rock. Why not dream of that. The deities enjoy their elevation. We can feel the light of their impact, wicked and hazy. When the beginning finished and the middle extends for millennia of hopeful approval, we can isolate certain fractures as tests. Perhaps our pleas will resolve into puff pastry of resonant escapade. Heavenly singers will voice native rapture as the swizzle stick circles the glass. Buoyancy flickers like charm, hazy beers are the rage. The deities have backed into something without hardly knowing.