Sunday 6 April 2014

91. Play You at the Objects, Maybe; or, Most of the Right Words, But Not Necessarily in the Right Order




All this silver montage
- won’t you meet the detritus of Sawney’s Hallowe’en
not now the town of luscious emergence?


Light & each
it can’t crash at to this crunch
now
& empty into blunder
into this stone material


. . . just glowing
then we end
& hopeful we


Life should hear nostra
- louder here the feast
of la rapid vestigiale
life


All la guilty terrain than the old muck: the pudding-stones broken


Everything of maledizione where somehow
a golden obelisk of built p


“What we stop a positività comes this passage in dilapidation of what stop at this, the speranza of the coming moraines to present, the collapsing of relations on justice, is continuing.”
Constant (broken), odd real


La cave & this head
- splintered of institutions & nostra city
on riverine Hejinian & footsteps
noisy, disordered children out


Most angels’ blink insieme tinklings
- occurring unstable & shaken so


But you point but our thing
e ‘ll 373 things call?

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