Leben & Welt

A rare moment blossoming, blooming through the usual the impetus to wax sullen cracked pavement and deferred tears

snatching at the solar glare limpid molten day cascade not thinking of One, nor, certainly, Zero, but only the sparkling

only the life beyond one’s unitary firmament, only the Green and Warm-hued World, unwarred warden mother

who knows nothing of justice, whirling in the indifferent darkness, O tellus shining out, ripe rife puckered

sweet in the silent dreamless,

And a certain kind of instrumentality finds its way into view, crowsfeet face remembering itself, so it thinks,

remembering its loves, its kin, making it with life, making it with exquisite sense, with the expression of impression,

a durable languor, cheer, there in the too-brief moment of Nietzsche’s laughter held forever against destitution,

viscid springtime slicing the still and sepia basement with its instruments and cacophonous contraptions,

a place for hands to dance,

for Mind to worry inquisitive and sure, now forgetting, world beyond the world as it, they alone, the I that speaks

living here in the light cone of the interface, of the spangled other as the body electric sighs and cries, smiles, furrows,

dreaming of the hacienda, painting in the abstract, drawn from the gold-stained memory of the concrete, the glistening forest,

matter, the deep history of our nothingness summoning up that edenic skyline that never was but always will be,

stripped naked now before the music,

before the act, the fact, the event, self-sustaining variable curling off the trunk, sliding through soil in every direction

bountiful beautiful cthonic substrate rich and still in the budding noon, with the pear trees and lone ornaments

that strange sun under the eaves, settling into the cool refuge, among the machines, metal and flexing carbon

nails and eyelashes, a chemical dance writ out as unity, memorial engine sintering in the wake of the living moment,

A calm in the endless collapse,

a spider in flight, hurled against the vacuum as a gamble, a flight of fancy tumbling along its web of light, chancing it,

daring itself to go, go, go! on with this or that wide-eyed wildness in the secret magnificence of its moments,

remembering again, the whirlpool of its particular sensuality, of the viscera, its laughing as it, she, I, misses it again

darting between grasping digits, and She laughing, laughing as the cycle gyres again, as salvation slides away

over the horizon of sense, irretrievable, again, again, again, forever, and She, laughing all the while!

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