There are Three Around the Fire

introduction:

not enough, never enough never be enough

out in the back, alone

an excuse and a stage. a throne,

Could be tucked ‘neath the wing, the last meal

of blood left there in the square

always just now awakening (I am naked before you as I have ever been.)

start:

There are three around the fire, a triangle, evenly spaced

She is looking into a hole
She has slowly been digging the hole
Two handfuls each day, until now
Or she found this very deep hole
she keeps looking into it
Reaching a hand into the hole
She is trying to find something there.
It is a form of divination

Reenacted the coagulation of stone birth
The ghost turned on that light (this memory recalled afterward)
Darker horse arrives

Very deep joke
Atone, atoning,
Forgiveness, forgiving,
Justice,

Bestiary of lizards, screech-owls, serpents, bats, speckled frogs & toads, lithe foxes, ragged dogs,
Holding high revel, Dionysian
Bacchanalian,
Blood red pleasure, dancing
Those who can
Sing
Glory
Rose and (lonely) Fennel blossoming

Some thing ought to be concealed as to be invisible) or done without
mysterious architecture, continuous world, nonetheless
Statues tumbled from their niches
Last light of day at the great exhibitions of the world
("how many times each day do these people walk up and down, up and down, this street?"
"she was always trying to fatten up her sister so that she might remain the thin one, the skinny sister.")
a blonde girl, hit with a rock
Swore she would never let them into her secret hideout ever again

Her obscure reference was missed by her mother, appreciated by distant stranger.
In the background of continuity

Giant creatures
Teeth of gold
Singing for her on one side
a bedlam of prayers
If deities are listening they are deafened by the noise
"And it was nothing of all this."
obscure regret?
curious panoramas?
nourishing obsession?
denser revisions?
complex charisma?
permanent depletion?
Dust (gray) upon scarlet (red)
Suddenly becoming more difficult to find
Worshipping lost electricity
"The answer in new religions, we must take care of each other. We can awaken at any time."
Drought and
earthquakes!
this area may become the new tropics, tropical jungles
Tropical virgin princess(es)
Move toward the lakes and rivers
Liberate the reservoirs
No more dams. All rivers blessed with freedom
("I am afraid for the women. Afraid for my friends, especially the women. Wayfaring and far from the well." - Goethe)
"He didn't trust me. I could tell. "
Circumstantial reality, "Where are the blueprints?"

Not holding
Together. rather
Giving everything away
"Attuned to the fate of the aura, she says, dreams are part of concrete experience, tangible and near."
No blue distance, witnessing the green ray


dust on blood
She walked through, carrying her clean white dress aloft
Shadowed spinal column,
Prehensile, remaining quiet

No record, at all, of our greatest achievements
Our Penultimate gift
The minds of the future generations
They never failed to amaze and entertain

for travel and mathematics,
both because and with (the wherewithal) without duration and with supreme duration
"How to build a UFO"
If one wanted to
Those schematics are long out-of-date


Eating poison to avoid cannibalism
(being cannibalized)
Brutal disintegration (and sleeplessness, always alarms, sirens) stabbing
It should come as no surprise
Decomposition, forensics
Dust at the Oceans bottom
Last breath of tradition, the owls' talons
Shattered moments, frenzy of multiplication, replication
nano, opaque shadows

Straining for air
Mother, "Why?"
Impossible totality (any and all impossibility)
"There are just some things you don't do..."

They are not fighting, bombs continue to reign down upon their heads despite in spite
Bizarre
Black pyramid stones, (savage) crystal skulls;
The storm grows stronger the farther it leaves paradise behind.

10

she this time, not he

he told me I told him

bless those rebels and revolutionaries

and now he can do as he did when he is here

instead of whatever else may have happened

if that is still the case anyway when he is

she burns the borrow. how will you return it then?

American Indians, and the “industrial” ruins,

Much of what will happen or is happening has already happened.

All the evidence buried beneath thick layers of

skin and cloth, under dirt, all under eons. We wonder where this sorrow came from

where this nothing is from, returning

There is a great person buried there, and there.

living underneath the light of day

the twist of the datura flower, and the dignity of the cypress

what supplies did the natives provide you, swift globe,

first aspects of creation after Chaos, primitive and archaic

all that brown he's in makes him look a caveman, caveman

"Through time and exact definition things are converted into intellect."

& to transform thought into things?

hownow then

"... a species of liminal monster (...) whose combination of familiar and unfamiliar features or unfamiliar combination of familiar features provokes [me] into thought, provides [me] with new perspectives, one can be excited by them; the implications, suggestions and supporting values entwined with their literal use enable [me] to see the subject matter in a new way"

The first day we sought one another out.

Always to begin where beginnings occur

The boy who killed God. The boy who burned the man.

a neat beast, further on...a clean breast

the abysmal is in the north, pushing his nose into it the

holographic history of that which will not go away

Thick fur, thick furred for winter, to be warm, keep warm, stay warm,

wrap it in your fur

Rust publish brown into the battery, the fort and the palisade are all protecting

a good cleansing fire, return to the same place. Is it fresh and good? What will you do to make it so? Friction will cause a fire in the dry season.

Motherfuckers live and then the sonic-boom is dropped in the middle, as you run toward the boxcar tripping on

your shoelace. Afraid to fail but not worried about it. still holding to the side of the abyss, edge only barely indelible stigmata. the trembling of his finger as he groped Christ's wound, desperately feeling for faith, finding only bone. All the way is far enough. Bring me your money and I will burn it...

And your approach, in the dark, brought great joy. Like a bed made by Christ.

smile ringing bells a shooting star

announce your departure I wait a long time in the wind for another yours is the only one, the only one. I’m gonna’ come home. You of the rainbow chest, Please Destroy me, oh I am being.

The inner canyon is a part of the darker world. There is no rest for us

There is so much further to go. The only one amongst us who knows…

He with muscles as big as his voice, the strength of him

in that blizzard. Which is the cream of the milk, untasted. My appetites are unstopped, unstoppable, and there are those who do no more than drink milk in bland tea on a such a night, but he can gulp and devour night

to night, until wild, rock-strewn, staring, and all the flesh of top and center red.

Beneath & under the desire not to destroy is deep and humble care. (or is there, where she’s going now, to live for free in the fat of the land and the roaming breeze?)

(we know what Spring is) which interests us with both the inner and the outer. And all such colors as Spring is, plus…Flowers

like we say, And I feel that way.

I, dazzled the moment of the pleasure of carrying the end evenever further

An important Gnostic text, the Apocryphon of John, reports that the chief archon caused the flood because he desired to destroy the world he had made, but the First Thought informed Noah of the chief archon's plans, and Noah informed the remainder of humanity. Unlike the account of Genesis, not only are Noah's family saved, but many others also heed Noah's call. There is no ark in this account; instead Noah and the others hide in a "luminous cloud".

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Pleasure in the difficult, pleasure in the impossible, joy in the difficult

Sigil Face

zero void(edinger)

we should have done this for you,

but there is no solution set

I hope she will forgive,

no indian gaming, the anchor lost on the busy road. the lower ones battling for mind in the amateur cosmos

anything can happen

happen

until at last all the animals depart for the moon we are not merely a function of utility

being between, without our clothes, inscribed in the monolith upon us, of the obelisk. Why is the forest (of the obelisk) in parts?

They don’t move slowly, know nothing or subtlety or humility. any way to infinity, from the hill and the corpse and the deplorable. instead clean protest\plant your garden anywhere

Sons of ruin, defense against history, time molting

Shape-shifter, fearful or believable; is the material the message...?

 it had an occult meaning that could only be revealed by it's identification as a myth.

Back from the end of the earth & the american annihilation of consciousness.

I've got no memories,

the Western Lands never end & the Western Land never ends

howl of stray dogs, your dream's not a mystery to me now.

don't want to know, finger, we know, fever

“. In his written sketch “Play 17 of 1963”, thirty-four animals in a room (the representatives of wild, feminine nature, organic) disappear as soon as "West Man" enters and "East Man" is simultaneously projected on the wall.”

Freedom is what we all

want. What we all need, the most (& most of)

The freedom to want what we need,

it is whatever we do when we are doing whatever we do

not what we were told we need(needed) to do

but what deep need determines, doing what(ever) has to be done.