Chaucer. Cantebury Tales Thunk Another Time
unimaginable to most
Urbanites of several recent generations
These untie-ted states
city folk have never told stories
by the mile,
with piles of rocks marking trail tailin's
that trail, marked by that pile o'rocks been
so long since foot trod that path
only scratches on the rocks say which way we
here. Today, as we call it.
Hueta, esta dia, right now
here. Walk a while, we're off to find reason
Someone I heard thinks we all do.
I believe we do.
---Wha'bou' un believe? D'jewthank we'all'kin?
kin we all un be lieve,
leaven well left alone, hill folk, some say...
...hidden things thought thank worth,
beauty, as an idea,
... ...Yes, and the early morning does
privilege all ovahdat.
Got the rot
dig it, all dug out cavity, crowned in gold
turn that empty cavity inside out, the wise hermit's cave is paved.
Plenty room for all his eukaryotic friends
then flouride, po-luted our ****** fluids.
Play that song on that ***'ar wit thraystrangs, po'man lute
Jew or juice harp
poing poing poing y'ken?
and keep time wit' the walkin' drum. Do that
dentist drill dance, then sing us a
song o'six penitents
patient sufferers o'the way thangsbe,
left well enough alone.
Strange love was to my tale as, that Bannon guy
might be today. Trump's last quarter email player?
Y'know the guy. He's Youtube famous. Bannon,
or Bruce? )
No, Bruce Banner, was the hulk of burning credulity, the pile
driver. Digging down to bedrock
.... That's how the Macedonian kid did, at Tyrus. ( ify'wishy'knew)
Pier pressing past the farthest reach of tide.
Past where pearls take graunular expansion to
knackerin' gnosymagi levels of possible hidden glory believeable by few.
Teller, the infamous Mr. Teller, he taught me duality.
Im balance, make fission, break, slam fuseconfuse, blow
don't burn the whole higgsian bubble to expel the very idea of anti matter, it may be useful,
rightusable or ible
Moby grandular totally tubular, what a clam can do.
According to that story, why not feed swine pearls? I'll tell you.
we may come back to right here, this here here,
if 'n' only
if we do not forget where we saw that
landmark a cient elder mustaset
Straggler mumbler, you okeh? Y'got a story.
I'll listen. It's yetawhile
t' can't we bury it.
is the granularity of perception adjustable or ible?
We are li'ble to learn, 'fwee
live so long. Said the old caned creature, in the way back.
At the edge of credulity, eh
how far is how ever, far or ever, time space
same same, but
al ity ness realreal reason able ibility
we, you and I, this state of least sharable ible ness
we, at this point,
dancing hermetical waxen winged shoes into flames. Teller level flames.
what lies did I un believe? All of'em.
You seem real. (dear reader)
A pier past the last tugged tide, into the deep
peace, in fly-over country on a sunny day.
Ah, where I live, there in
my peace valley overwitch the marines fly every day
and I talk, in my revery, basking in the sun with my lizard brain in heaven
I talk to the cadre controling machines named for
subjected peoples, Apaches of all sorts.
I knew Johnny. And I knew his brother, Jonah.
Johnny Appleseed and Jonah Whalepuke.
They could been twins, save
the smell and wind's role in the story, when it all
stirs. SSTop and ask, dear reader, is this safe, this place?
Adlebraned idyl word forms framing un imaginable worlds.
Goodness gracious sakes alive gnostic means
you know. Here's one we agree on:
Heretic tic, there a tic tic time you re
call the warning bout finding one's ownself in the book of life?
This is that. You can't get past it on your knees,
this is the bar, you don't pass it, you cross it.
Who inherits the wind if the meek inherit the earth?
inspire expire it is breathing, all the way down.
bubbles. ity bubbles ify bubbles some time bubbles
awefilled imagined bubbles in bubble forever,
mazed bubble pops
those aren't real. Gnostic heretic is one who thinks
he thinks and has all the knowledge
in the real world,
in his hand, and
it ain't even five gee. We can go faster or deeper. You choose.
We gotta understand what standing and under mean as a thing
we can miss. aitia indicates wisdom is not pre packed with
She says, you should know by now.
Nothing missing, nothing broken, though ye walk
through the valley of
your own shadow death as I drip drip drip
hear me, gotcha once, gotcha twice
ripples in time can you hear me now?
Seed. Time. Harvest. Information re
garding the entire process
was intentional. You reap what you sow. That is kharma.
Life ain't fair eventually. The good guys always win. It's in the hermit's will.
You can read. It's said, the man
wombed or un, who can and don't's no better armed then than
the critter that can't
read the sign that said stop.