Thing I

. . . Come down off the high places into human record, unknown into spaces, unseen into dissolution and salvation, dissolving into components and foreign languages unthought and measured only by the reflections in imperfect, broken things, inches, centimeters, tables, walls, structures, architecture, un-spaces, not known, unparsed, unprogrammed, common for the mouths of all people and yet secretive, translucent but still keeping apace, cryptic of pattern, selling shapes unplaced in the scheme of things, non-made, outside, alien, unbought by corporation and unknown of face, speaking strange brittle sciences, compounding, unloading continually into form and blooming, intact flowers, unfolding, blossoming outward to statement and objection, compunction and consequence, spaced blankley but brought finally into reign, into empire. . .

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©2006 Hannibal Taubes