a poem for today, 21 November 2012
[a word-sorted sonnet of eight sentences and its image]
The edge of the system must be kept squared with experience; the rest, with all its elaborate myths or fictions, has as its objective the simplicity of laws.
It is a massive screw up.
The cube is destroyed.
The battle is finished.
Once you really and truly stop believing in it, whatever it is - love, Santa Claus, progress - the signs which used to prove it to you all look a lot more clearly, and obviously, not signs of it at all.
Spoken like a true individual.
Don't ask me who I am.
I take the selection to my head.
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