Canto XI the god breathes on the chariot and the axle turns like the god’s spine upon itself until the wheel rides the earth spinning then revolving over and upon itself and breaks so that races can demob divinity buried with the chariot’s wheel cohorts run over now by knights mounted on winged horses breathing again within campaigns in the East Dasius’ namesake buried by the Danube progenitor entombed in maybe Vukovar or Dalj--no script bears witness yet a diploma graved in bronze carries some of Nero’s breath even into Parthia [into Illyricum] Pannonian reinforcements sent to Syria perhaps destroying the temples throughout time Dušanic sd/ the cavalry was more useful in most campaigns than the auxiliary infantry gravity leaks into the fifth dimension Nima sd/ Age of Aquarius not to incriminate myself "Scaling up to 512 CPU's is pretty damn studly," sd/ Torvalds. "Putting twenty of them in a cluster and making them programmable as a single machine is pretty hot." I wish we could possibly be together the sweet fragrance of your clothes not to king my last row barley hops and yeast alios age incitatos alios
age rabidos Mr. Cartier-Bresson sd/ “For me, the passion is to look, to look, to look.” furniture equipment and leasehold improvements are carried at cost less accumulated depreciation and amortization depreciation of furniture and equipment is provided over the estimated lives of the respective assets on a straight-line basis amortization of leasehold improvements is provided over the lesser of the estimated useful life of the improvement or the life of the lease on a straight-line basis no assets were removed in 2003 or 2002 now your husband sleeps content come out and greet his friends gathered outside your windows come out and listen to our cheers come out and lift your bodice so we can know the joys of marriage without having to commit to its pain come out and sing your wedding song come out and drum on the balcony’s spine drum on the balcony’s floor come out with painted hair with curled hair with close clothes dripping from joy in the marriage bed come out to greet your husband’s friends’ wives whose joy overpowers even the grocer’s most fragrant cheeses come out to cheer the wives who have not seen their husbands at night lo these many years come out and shine come and dine on your neighbors’ spleen for they thought you would never encourage him never trap him never rope his scrawny limbs into the hammock of Hymen’s joy boathouse on that same barnstorm wearing a white constellate with the foreign instrumentation had been having dry the barman drew IBS sd/ “I was, one might say, a solipsist long before I ever heard of the word.” or if I don’t piss in the dough I will never rise a bright flash of light strikes my body fills it with makeup if you don’t get out of dumbarton oaks it will swallow you alive as russia swallowed poland only to have to regurgitate it whole two centuries later Zguto give back what you have taken from me and I will release you from dumbarton oaks you have my heart snared in your deep black hair the curls enrapturing me with night the curls scented with your pungent black berry rizzle how I long for release from spice made of black hair bonds even the Messiah’s hair could not entangle me as yours does if you let me go I will allow you to pass even Satan’s tresses could not wrap me as tightly as yours if you let me go you may marry the Mineola Mensch but before I pass I set the stones to cover my retreat do not move them as my body’s rest deserves care as only these stones can provide even love even love heavy in their protectiveness weight given and weight taken tinier stones to fill the gaps and large ones that roll untended to their places like disobedient malcontents shaped finally by their proportions rather than their statures sink them and they rebound as the ground heaves from frost raise them and they fall from stones unraveling their courses pebbles know nothing those boulders forget they keep the secrets of the universe as well as my secrets engraved with my bones so that only a soothsayer can toss my finger joints to discover the truth so long unfleshed heaven must be hades in the endless sea of memories
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Thoughts on Pattern Recognition by William GibsonOneTwo Three Four Five
cantosIII III IV V VI VII VIII IX X
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