The last Freemason died today carried with him into the Familiar Strangeness of afterlife the secrets of unsatisfiable yearning pothos, from which his architecture grew. From absence alone he made deep song.
twice I was a Christian no matter what they said I loved him because he is a door he said, because he knew himself better than I knew me, when knowing is the same as being Enlightenment is not about light it’s about ment, the mind behind light and anything else
Last days. I feel you love we are only still beginning, Eden in the rearview mirror closer than it appears. We are beginning. Every archaeologist knows we just woke up. There seems a pressure in the air that silences the ears. Crickets or tinnitus who can tell, we are newborn always, immaturity is my sword and shield,
Lady, did you see my fugue? It ran this way, it said it was finished and I believed it, it took advantage of my credulity and ran away, this way, its nature to flee and mine to follow, did you, Lady, hear my fugue? It favors underbrush deep ravines, hilltops, ruins, crowded streets, it knows more names than it can touch, it tries to wrap you in its changes
For there is anger in the human world and hymn tunes don’t help need a bolder potion, ah, I have made a mousetrap for the moon, now I am him but who cares, a new slant on every story but nobody cares, that leaves me free for alternate alchemies galore next year I’ll catch the sun and pin her to the door — why not, it’s the house that speaks, not me
Escape the consequences. Born big or born small, it is your genius building you out and out and out from the thought you are. I, Paul, a citizen of Rome, tell you this, do not conform to the system, but renew instead your first mind. The mind that makes you
...It seems lunacy to me to spend your days going up and down the staircase of yourself, gymnastic delirium. And to do it, Valéry cautioned, armed to the teeth, lunacy. Better be hollow. Hollow Earth theory should really mean there is nothing inside the body, just a central sun peopling vast emptiness.
how precious the sky is, it keeps us safe, the trolls inside me can’t handle light, only in the parking lot understand the meaning of the place you’ve been, mall, market, club, cathedral, all the cars roasting in the moonlight for all you know having the same dream. Be different. Look up and dissent. Nothing lasts up there, the words dissolve in mind and we are meek water again —
You never know the distances love must travel those who dare to speak of love as if we all know what it means yet must be told over and over again by voices plodding through time soft as marimbas in a beastless jungle
is there life beyond oxygen? seems such a simple thing to ask the temples come crashing down isn’t that what Samson was a blind man’s question that broke the building down, say the word and the city falls. You go to a surgeon to get something out go to the movies when you haven’t seen enough why do you write me the letter you do if not for the only answer I ever have? Write the words down and follow them home.
We live in the age of names — sticks and stones will break our bones and names will surely kill us because there is no answer to a name, it deals a fatal silence. It says John. But what about the word on the other side of a name it names an action or a thing, isn’t it fatal to say arise or a rose? Thinking crash lands in a name — but something slithers from the wreckage, free from depiction, beyond the boundary, a hint, a yen, a glint, a go. And it begins to know.
Compliance is sensual, it’s being with rivers it’s riding time’s back and being friendly with the night. I hoped I was listening, dawn a spasm of gentleness pale through trees — the witches have done their work again and foiled the bosses a few more hours look around, look all around they whisper, watch us rinse into the sky what is not color yet watch and do nothing but be.
I could sit here and hunt for dawn comes easily these days or sleep my way to Jericho again Where Moses’ daughters rise a cunning school for love’s diplomacy and otherworldly wisdoms all combined they let me in some nights let me interrogate them in my broken Hebrew to learn how, just how. For they know everything again. Small school all white adobe shadowy within, we see by skinlight, read by the light left in our eyes by years of looking outward.
You can tell he’s near the end he’s starting to make sense abbreviate the obvious! The leaf covers itself with gold I call it dawn rain birds in a bush things that mean little last forever lost on the railroad like Bruckner’s hat found on the shore like a baby seal I can show you pictures of the world, priest carrying the sacrament to a dying man.