monster Ness is a lake.
The frightening kind of lake itself.

emptiness is more (things)
than what an empty place or an empty
cocholate box, one heart on an autopsy table
or all the theories of Walter J. Ong is. Are

you seeing it properly?
Monstrosity is another thing(s).

, lrp. 04fev11, às 05h27.

Even when you're right
you're wrong,

old fox,
I see you're barking

Lick that little child's face,
they don't see what I saw

your teeth growing out again,
the feet of the furniture
devasted. dust and shaded

Do you see the lights of meaning
turn this darkness into unseen stones?

If you dance, I'll teach a song
like if your ear to hear
was a hard-to-play violin.

It's simpler than that:
Shall we see the night?

Better than what I got there
is every single thing or thought that I can
from here touch or recall right now with
a no other way kind of freedom called
Memory.  You know what I mean.

When you touch a thing only for the reason
you want to retouch a whole situation metonymicly,
when you want to remember a moment only to remind
you that that moment happend and you find yourself
around old calenders where the workdays do not
match your current deadlines, it's memory I know
you know what I'm trying to say right now. Again.

Here
I say what I need from you There
needed._What I needed there, right there,
where all leaves past and past is awkardly white finally
_From you.
right here again for the last time because this time
I have already said what I needed to say. To you.

Something is leaving the sin, but that's not **** ****.

I call this blood
You call that bird
feather They are
feather They are
bleeding bird
a blood-colored bird
red and falling
full of readiness
as anything falling
Feather blood bird
bird Feather blood
blood bird Feather
Death is never obvious so
a bird can also fly down
and a catheter bleeds for life
Death is never obvious:
feather feather and feather.

clean out all the shadows of this view
I want the memory to be as noon as any instant
One well-speaking wind to flee roads and scars
for the viewing to protect in silence
the moment from what's not Greenwich of its place
There, right there, where only lackness is absent.