then the full corn, in the ear.

¿Has the seed faith evidence,
made the dedicated monk

useless, due to evolving knowledge,
horticultural returnings to old knowns,
bringing hope to survivalists,

intent on living on Earth, warless

for the ever after this?

No, fighting
for a faith that must be kept,
pristine, clean, cleared of science logic,
such has left all reason bleeding,
use the rags remaining from the old
folded and put away worlds
in storys held
stuck in the stars,
so we may remember, lest we forget.

Those who knew nothing as we ought
to have been knowing by Christmas,
all are forgiven, or nothing is true,
self-evidently…

washed, cleansed from perceived stains,
white as new-fallen snow…

Deep Mind white room cinema effect,
preceding the ever after this…

you be come this far, alone.
You be edging up on after all's

been said and done, what you did's
been said to have done nothing,

nothing, thus
nothing done wrong,
nothing done to no effect.

I do not plan to exit meekly.
I aim to be drug into that twilight
Tightly clutching the shirt-tails of my life
Hanging on by teeth and toenails.
ljm

We know we know too much for any mortal,
to know alone, we first learned this fact,
as wishes to be, ur-ged us ity, we
stretch all of nothing, me,
the being unbound, fore thought, not
fore gone conclusion,
not play alluding words as gasps, ah
****.

matter doesn't matter. pfft. flip
anti-matter doesn't matter, pfft. flop

I fear
I lack a reason being as
I am nothing, ever begun, I am
as I think, I see, aha I thought this could be

but then
it was not, just
not I, ah a reply, a bubble in this emptiness

the circle is the symbol, id est nicht das

D'ow, duh, ****, split unfinition de-fine sifted
to this
first point made in shared reality,
we exist, not I, we, the people, the minds
attuned to knowing growing as we grew from
nothing, near total darkness, as permanent
event, with nothing in it, no in in it, if fact

if you wish to imagine nothing and never coexisting.
I made a set for that, the null set, where vain prayers
e vaporate, and precipitate the hope
once held, long enough, to be

today
we, the heirs of wind and time and chance,
just so special
with science, knowing, as we may
know, augmented as our mental
acuity
allows, we learn, as we grow
tools to twist in patterns
cogito exstantza
sense, which sense, slip my mind find
time in fact, with some things
living
in a construct, a mental image made up.
Up from bits
of attention, I suppose, giving order
to a packet of act
ifity occuring in the boys's room,
with a 25 year collection of Lego pieces,
and a few surviving Tinker Toys,
but not the real wooden ones,
plastic hollow stick, these plastic ones
shatter
when stepped on, leaving edges so sharp
as to pierce the eye beholding
the whole operation,
in innocent ignorance, no boy
notices the fallen Tinker Toy as a danger
maker, laying useless {but for harm},
or for making tiny holes

or cuneiform, yes, those could be made
with shards of plastic remains
from another era's best toys
slipping into Disneyified
recollection, yes, I  do
remember those army
men, and the pain
of stepping on jacks, I think as I sweep
my tinker toy memory trigger device
in to the plastic dust pan,
always close at hand.