haps, as a whole,
are beyond my individuated minds orderly existence...

letters will let words exist, until
they be
taken
out of the way, and we, the ideas within begin

to flow.

we carve no canyons.
we gentle them, rubbing itchin edges, jagged
from the ripping

fracture point
by point
all
along the line, row after row of rolling hills
rolling down from craggy heights

cascade, spiraling quake rolling up from deep
calling
calling
deep calling falling "giant steps"

shallow science guy calls 'em
Threshholds of Increasing Complexity and

still,
science settles near the shore, and knows.