I want for . . .
language to impart
all of what the deep-seatedness of intent discloses,
for self-occupancy to be filled
with the residues from sound,
for where no current thought leaves
anything to the past,
where there is the now-embodiment
without the restraint of time,
where I can fully relax
about the whereabouts of all substance
and the fronting that form takes as occupancy,
where thing, any thing
always has a voice
that, in its constancy, is heard,
where absurd
is not unconventional in nature,
where nothing also passes threw as sacred
and is not just passed by,
where language was the tools of the past
in the efforts of defining,
but in the now, as speech,
is as the sound of unity, unconfined,
where nothing has forgiven the void
of the assumption of emptiness,
where no sounds are left to wander off
in their utterances,
and that I cannot save anything heard
by understanding,
and that no one can come at me
as if I am separate from them . . .
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