I
wanted, rekkin, to rite a ditty for Anne C
but
baild on at, for whither wld that get me
question
mark. Return to Ezraversity,
wherefrom
I baild in late teens & late 20s
took
up put down took up put down again
for
we are monotongued, sd Midway, sitting,
pecking,
dreaming. How many tongues had he?
Heard
six, heard nine, now how is 1 to no?
O
Tower of Babel, mark it well, remember.
It
want for nothing men wrote write to left
in
them days, patient, learnèd men, not all
'em
bronzeage herders: That is ignorance,
stupidity
at large, broadcasted loud
in
academia, and on social media.
Read,
and teach yr young to read, then
read.
Don't speak. Shut up. Button yr lip.
Be
quiet. Listen. Meditate in silence.
Go
find a quiet place, out of the noise,
and
listen. Move yr eyes across the page
and
keep yr lips closed. In that silence cometh
a
knowing, if yr lucky a shewing (sic). O
-pen
yr heart and let Him in, O let Him in,
for
now it's party time in the Tower of Babel ,
time
for inking & another prick,
another
bit of metal through the nose,
the
tongue, the ear, another barbd eyebrow,
another
fuck-you finger, another sneer,
another
primal scream. The darkness calls
and
we go running. I go too, we all go
down
the black & misty spiral stairwell
into
the green & purple life from death,
down
to King Rat, down the rabbit hole,
again,
againe. Apart we are, unWhole,
but
fleety flex & ittybitty bits
cast
in avoid, like whan we were a childe
not
Harold we wld blow the dandelion
hither
& thither, yon & over hill
and
over dale, and whan we dreamd we saw
the
stars come form a wheel and whirl, and we
were
Moses was it, w a writhy staff
a
serpent, magic, Cassavetes calld
down
magic from the sky, a Tempest, Greek,
&
w his glasses he sd, show me , tempting
God
Who shant be tempted. Unto Julian
He
shewed, and He will choose to whom He shows
until
then listen, wait, for those who sit
or
stand & wait are also serving, sd
Iohannes
Milton who was blind & able
to
justify the ways of God to man
in
order serviceable.
9.11.15
