Monday, February 22, 2010

I can see very far

there is no one.

I can hear deeply

there is a continuous

low hem of indistinct.

A closed window stands
in front of stories untold?
Those in clothes knew how
they were confined from all
sides, an endlessness stood latent told.

A child asked "Is language a maze?"
Her mother laughed in front of her friends
in response to the child's unusual question.
The child was surround by her elders as she
was being put off as being foolish by her
guardian, however, it was her mother
who did not have an answer.

Language was that like an ocean to the
child, unrealized, as an ocean receptive
and expressive, the tide pulls and returns;
as the child sees this she clung into the
oceans endlessness, without lanes and
the usual requirements she again wonders
if we call this a maze. How she also forgot
one topples stark to the shore as crippled as the
starved glutton, from the girls dark and
boundlessness ocean bed, she sees herself
as gendered, sensible and with dispositions.
The intoxication of the sea had evaporated
into what was now the here as collected salt.

Why must one carve truth in finding shore?
Why must one assume the essence of existence
by that intelligence of one who relies on their
notes and personal surveillance patterns? Logic
is a force of law, expressing the masculine form
through the deduction of the girl or woman.

A hum came over all the lands and washed all
that had ever came, all information dissolved
to bring all to the present we could not prepare.

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