down to
epiprophetic of
these wandering abstain
whither
the organism
sex and death
and yet the tortoise
down to
ghost of
matter
the dust
idols of mean
mists
thrice reclaim
among
them flotsam
tauten
so
epiprophetic of
the multitude
proximate
to to start
the world that is
anew anew incant
amidst
the brilliance
that is
no death only death
these wandering abstain
of wonders daunt
nor
convey
thither trough
sea shores our days
neither
crest
grave yet we recede
whither
thus at dawn
echo of
absence
of
symptoms, briefly
in here it inheres
and yet the tortoise
the organism
the single self
spans life spans
tho’ senescence
always conceiving
sex and death
…
toward a heaven
…
no wonder
…
and yet the tortoise
echoes
the ghost of us
echoes
the mortal fuss
