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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