x : Unknown

Poetry as History. History as Catharsis. Catharsis as Poetry.

Lake over Heaven

It should not be hard to discern my purpose
Hearts are harder here in the city
The murmur of mine moreso than most
It should not be hard to design my philosophy
But I'm wary of the weight and wage
and oppressed by unscheduled overtime

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Now

it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway.
-- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

kleine Eier
frag meant
[untitled]
late summer rain
[shade of a shadow]
[untitled]
stub, three
stub, two
stub, one
two sides of three coins

If

Behavior is our presence in the here and now, how we make our world, then History must be our unshaped clay, the context of our labors. To act without minding History is to act without purpose.

2000.03.11

x : Unknown

Lake over Heaven

Now

short-term memory

If