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Thursday, January 22, 2015










      


   THIS    IS    THE    DAY






                                
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             PART I
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            This is the Day




This, this day, this is the day. This is the day we get up.



He has forgotten.  The mystery, the method, the

formula.

The why.



He has lost.




It.





It is lost.



It is said of him.




That,   he.





Lost.




It.



The glass, the secret: of



the


ruby glass.









This,  this  glass:   look at this glass.




It is, a glass: the glass is without sin.






The crack is stained:





only  the  crack  is  evil.









I see them running up a hill.








What is your world?








How strange are you?








There is no one: no house, only debris.









How strange, a whole town of glass. 



How can people live
in a glass house?





Speak.






“I. I.”






Again! Before the time goes away.







                   “It is cold in this fold.”






I want the red glass.











You will never see the sun again.












                         "The Ruby is our master’s melody."





                         




The davenport is here.










When night falls, the faces will die.









                                      "I want the red glass."











Everything is in this land, and everything is in the ruby.











But, like sleep-walkers, people walk toward their doom.








Everything is gone.








                                         "It is time to discover your shoes."









Is Ascher dead? Will he dance? Make him dance!
Is he dead? Make him dance till his hole rattles.





                                                                                "It is 
                                                                            our day."







She is cooling and she will not crack anymore.









He who has three loaves and drops one on the way must not sleep.

        
           

 

                                 “This is the day to stand up.”





It is dark.







                      “For twelve years there has been no fire, and 
                       now my shoes are gone.”










Life oozes from all things.










When the black box drops from the huge high, a green and yellow dust rises.









It is so dark.



                                                            




Every smile is a grimace.”









I like you.     You have a heart of glass.




In the forest the cock crows, but the people are dead.



___________________________________________________        

                            PART II

 ___________________________________________________      







On the Island, for centuries, some forgotten people have lived.





They sail away in mystery.





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                         PART III 
  
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There is no memory.  






The clown.          The day  of  the    fumbling






balloon.







He says:      “What of the red?
                      What of the secret house?”












The giant approaches with cold thoughts.










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                                      PART IV

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The chair is where she sat.  A  cry  in  the  vacant  face.








We must not.    The  silence  hurts  me.







No, I am not you.   No!








Many things are disgusting.










The silence disquiets me.  Slow.  I cant
look silence




and





the wax men in the face.




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                                   PART V

____________________________________________________





This is the day you get up.  The  glass  place  is  on  fire.








This  is  the  fire  day.







It is pure.   Nothing  is  cracked  or  stained.







       “For twelve years there has been no fire, and 
                                         now my shoes are gone.”








Life oozes from all 







It is so dark.







I like you.








You have a heart




of




glass.









 ................................................................................


Monday, January 12, 2015


        This 


is the Time of the Things














SOFT 


YELLOW 


BONE 


LAUGH





these things these things these things


























>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>





















































































































HANNAH WEINER HANNAH WEINER HANNAH WEINER HANNAH
WEINER HANNAH WEINER HANNAH WEINER











































           
these things this space this place these times this life and what are we
and where are the lights for how can people live in glass houses and
you are dead why do you fly it is November 1886 and it is teeming with
reactions falling as leaves in lyric dots or posits so exquisitly placed and
it was then we heheld the monstrous eminence as all bent in wonder
on that day of wonders I had meat and beans and wine it was


















































For centuries they waited full of profound insanities on the unknown island...





they hide their heads; they hurry on



































        C R A Z Y   W O M A N



























































































FUTILITY























MATHEMATICS MEETS RELIGION
AND CELAN AND THEY
ALL STRUGGLE WITH
CANTOR'S INFINITIES
BUT THE INFINITE EVADES: FOR:
NOTHING COMES FROM NOTHING





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I JUST WANTED TO DO IT


















YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE SUN AGAIN



THIS IS THE DAY TO STAND UP












































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 HOW SMALL MAN'S HANDS ARE AND HOW MUCH HE / SHE CAN








The hand that holds a pen, is as subtle as a billion flies.













REPETITION IS TRUTH

















NOTHING CAN BE DONE    














THE EPISTEMOLOGICAL ONTOLOGICALISTICAL EXISTENTIAL
PHENOMONOLOGICAL AND NIETZSCHIAN SCREAM FOR LOGICAL
IMPOSSIBILITY AS NOTHING HAPPENS IN ETERNAL CIRCULES
AND FOND PATRIOTS SCREAM FOR FREEDOM AND RIGHT AS
THE DARK ONE LAUGHS WITH EVERLASTING MIRTH AND CYNICAL
DISDAIN AS WE SELF DESTROY AND REPEAT AND REPEAT AND
REPEAT AND REPEAT AND REPEAT AND REPEAT: OURS IS THE
FAULT IN MORE WE ARE SINNED AGAINST OURS IS THE SEARCH FOR THAT
WE CAN NEVER FIND WE






MATER MATER MATER MATER MATER MATTER MATTER MATTER
ALMA ALMA ALMS ARMS ALARMS OUR MUTTER OUR MUTTER




25 PAIR CABLE TERMINATOR LABLE 25 PAIR CABLE TERMINATION
CABLE BOX FOR LOCATION "LOOKING INTO THE HEART OF LIGHT,
THE SILENCE" AND WE FIND THERE IS TOO MUCH REALITY









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I CURSE YE YE HYPERFINE POLYPHEME













Sigwick bent to his task while the objects talked endlessly of his peculiarities; the
unhappy man was in a fever of fear for





THEY DANCED THEY DANCED LIKE SWASTICAL COMICAL COMMIESS
AND NOTHING
BECAME ANY BETTER:
LET'S GET PESSIMISTIC
IT'S A REAL WORLD OF BETRAYALS
AND


 'ALL THAT USELESS LOVE'


                                                 




JOLLY WERE THOSE YEARS, JOLLY AND 
TRAGIC THE TIMES

BUT WE HAD HAM AND EGGS 


FOR LUNCH AND

A GREAT CUPPA AND WE 


TALKED HAPPILY

IN AUNTIE'S LOVELY ENGLISH HOUSE










NOT ALL CRYSTALS ARE PERFECT (?!!): NO CRYSTALS ARE PERFECT

NOTHING IS PERFECT: WE AWAIT : BUT WE HANG IN THERE LIKE CLOV

AND HAM AND STAN AND ..... AND WE RECALL WATT.....AND

THOSE 'HAPPY DAYS'....AND WAITING....AND 'KRAPP'S LAST....'

AND THE MOUTH, THE ENDLESSLY BABBLING MOUTH...






THEY  MAY  BE  FORCED  INTO  ODD









WE ARE NOT BEMUSED: BUT SOMETIMES WE

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                                                                  FINIS









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