I lost my voice in there awhile -- White bricks reverberated it back at me, Backward. To speak is to ensnare yourself, Poor soul; abandon hope and keep your silence. All those echoes clung to me, A clutter of despair that I could not collect In sorted piles; a clutching at the throat, Collar and leash, that kept the chaos Out of reach. Untidy reason, you were a blessed disappointment. I carry your remains: a thousand little functors, Domains and codomains, points and arrows, Spaces, sets and algorithms -- Ten years of flight through darkness That pointed like the flight of sparrows at the sun. In transit they have lost their weight, Fluff and dross of faeries fashioned into gems. I plan to stare at them, sometime, Til they evaporate. Where can I stand? There is no place but nowhere, No time but always, no ground that is not Turning, like the tides, beneath our Feet, no height or chasm but The waves, no time to edit or Delete, for history does not Repeat.
Posted on: Fri, 22 Aug 2014 02:51:53 +0000
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