It begins at the beginning. It ends at the end. It is a children's story. It is a story about a straight line and later I will tell you this story. Wittgenstein says that there is not a clear way of knowing for certain that what you think you hear is what I, or another, hears, or says, or intends to say or thinks. Therefore this will not be a story about that, but rather a story about being told about it.
Or: how surprise you when it’s surprise that you are expecting? How reinstate anticipation!
1. If I say the embarrassment of my "bowl" you will not know immediately what it is I am intending, nor would I beg you.
2. Today where this can give you pleasure.
enter
1 This is what induces cause2 in a bowl four things count that are the four things that I beg you to be touching3 Could this sentence flip-flop 4 the difference between a drop of water and a cache of water is something that appertains to Jack Spicer, that being the name his book carries5
6 When I bite why do you bite back: 7Broken poetry has few pieces 8A-conscious thought thinks 9In the eight lane street I saw what I wanted 10 write then it’s written 11 What constitutes my calm 12 and what would constitute a disruption of 13 (it) “I say A; you counter with B” 14had I asked you to explain the content of this mouth you would have used different 15words, how then explain--this mouth? 16 had transparency been intended I'd end here--not1617--elsewhere 18Why this coffee tastes good is natural19 20once the questions of poetry intrigued me, now it's the questions themselves that do21
inevitable original one2223242526 (I’m an alphabet!)
3 (carriages) follow the train
• When I breathe it annoys me: better to be disconnected in my breathing: Hurt?--Better to be drawn, in and out, than to breathe up and down, better to be filled and empty than to breathe. Disconcerted; contented so.
• (Take me away from my breathing; I don't want to be held inside my breathing. Listen only listens. There are crows going on outside my door!)
• Your pain I have forgotten, breathing that occurs without my having intended it, or you.
The things I have gotten from him, from her, now formed. He, me, 3 signs.
These THESE WORDS cannot describe themselves CANNOT DESCRIBE THEMSELVES because BECAUSE THAT'S EXACTLY that’s exactly what WHAT THEY ARE.
I do not care whether there is family change--what family there is to hand one hand into 5--that--that--weathers--&&--points--!
You say that I will come apart, as if there were so many of them to resist: I told you I had already done so, now, preternaturally! (Over there--hey that’s me!)
I am not sure where to place a "warm hollow" in words like "warm hollow", knowing that they'll fit, or whether a comma or colon will sneak into one's company or you'd think again of underarm hair or some such other common superfluity contrived as if to amuse. Either that or you'd have to have removed that luminiferous finger!
All these sentences are an attempt to have them embodied outside your touching them--at least with your mind--knowing whether they'll fit, thinking--of ways that you have already enough concern with fumbling language, fingers crossed.
Reading is named Karen Weston. Karen Weston is named John Geraets. John Geraets is named Karen Weston.
To say this is to find in one name another not quite it. As I said, equanimity itself is destabilizing--words don't have that, or names. The difference holds, not in one breath, but due to it. This proves that there are however two. K, J, JK. The other is the rhyme [reinstated] above, making twoone.
Language is a finger tucked in, --how liquidy!--a finger appointed. You know it doesn't matter and that is why poets write poetry with index fingers, wishing only to push that in hard as they can: (so it fits between a colon!):
and jocular--KETTLE--of thoughts and suggestion--THAT concerns any or all participants-- in this mood--Humbolt's knee capped on itself--inadvertently left on--wood--or someplace at least to place your index finger--it gives pleasure--
(Happens happens without logical ground, I mean it doesn't have an up, or in, really. We have experiences as such anticipating them, these we term experiencing.)
