Confabulation, rise and tell
more than mortal I may ken of wisdom.

The old con, with some trepidation
(feeling
of fear or agitation
about something that
may happen)

steps away from the vehicle, fabualting
holy truth provocation, possibly
even
probably, perhaps, even odds,
I was in violation, due to meditation,

white line fever. No, see.
All my roads have double yellow lines.

I guess I don't know why we don't
do somethings in the road…

I know I learned to say I know
when I am not guessing.

Sing a song to entertain,
as we sit around a little fire.

We are small, our fire smaller,
so we think we know,
we trust our science,
as taught,
were we, to test a known,
religiously, to prove,
all things.

At once, we think, if it were me,
alone, thinking we may, we might
disintegrate as fuel in fire,
becoming beings we are,
under your skin,
in your sense of wedom,
happening in ever for ever's own sake.

If otherwise we were, we might,
if otherwise we were, we might

answer boldly all the common conundrums
whying one way and ifing another,
howing all things,

indoing each as must be done, otherwise,
undoing first cause ifing any reason
authorizes our use of may, as well
we may, if we can make believe.

Coming Apart

marketing value of brains
marketing worth of knowing

college sorting machine

Murray from the Bell Curve

Just yesterday Lex Fridman, and this guy
odd co-suggestion
- do you think we are evolving?
A shared culture,
shared tastes and prefer-
ences incessant conferences

2022, and a few, a rare few, seeing
bits in patterns of eight,
2-bits, et cetera

Samuel Johnson, obscure as can be,
practically kabalisticly mysteriousus,
sum mostus
firstus, fundus mentalis, serpent mind/

Marshall McLuhan 1967--
Buckminster Fuller

The Beatles, et al,

Acid, Grace Slick, Tallahachee Bridge,
Rick Ridenour Suicide
1970 - too late, too soon, take your time,

put it back into your head, your head, baby,
it was all real
it was all real at the time, so long
so long, since we found some body

to love, till the end
of time,

tipped and split into ever more, after
never before.

There was never such a time as this.

Worthless, light on a bright sunny day.
Rain after rain after rain, remembered
on a bright sunny day.
--- returning from Sukkot, 1969
I gave my flute,
to a guy reporting for duty,
- I heard he came home broken.
- I'd hoped my flute had helped,
- it had helped me, as I told any,
- here, I am in this tower,
- do not shoot at me.
Watchers saw,
I gave that tested flute away,
then just today, aha,
at my wish, I bought another,
handmade, by some whittler out there.
How long to find such a thing?
Never once asking where can I buy one.

Seasons pass in jubileed stacks...

A lifetime of my mother later, I bought
a handmade flute on Etsy,
on a comment, "beautiful voice"
provoking me to purchase
a long held desire,
to own for the use, a hand made flute,
on the blown through Phrygian mode.

Marching through euphoria, euphoria,
we are marching through euphoria,

to reach the tipping point, when time,
starts another round,

'til then, each day say thanks for rain,
believe you have these things
and having proves it so.

Worthless, light on a bright sunny day.
Rain after rain after rain, remembered
on a bright sunny day.

Senryū one

Escape from Haiku
short long breathe in time
breathed out longing to go live

Senryū two

Seed fall fruit feed pigs;
passenger pigeons,
fertilized this forest, you know.

Senryū three

Discipline, science,
since some time ago,
ready readers write old seed.