I'm slowly becoming a repository for decomposing sorrows, regrets, ignored injustice, forgotten promises. I can still feel its stench, but when I get accustomed to it, I will call it experience.

why is it harder?

why is it harder to read than to watch

why is it harder to read than to listen

why is it harder to listen than to watch

is it harder to talk or to listen

Structural conditions of possibility?

Can structural conditions of possibility be identified for any particular utterance? For example, you catch wind of the following snippet,

“...what they wanted...”

Is it possible (for you, or for your computer) to calculate the odds that a particular type of phrase, in terms of phonetic shape (grammatical shape, semantic shape) will precede the above utterance?

Looking into the distance described by its horizon

Time drifts from one outpost

To another sound

Becoming delayed

Or prolonging meaning which

Lags now.

But in the moment it had rushed ahead.

And turning his head,

Even

He had seen something

Different from what she

Sees now

At rest, alone, stopping

On the horizon

Of the event

Once shared

When the sun, looking

Upon us

Bowed its head.

Litterature splayed
across secret warring winds;
I can't find my way.

The Impala

On the edge of a tidal metropolis,
(An enormous tidal metropolis)
In a land of ominous leverage,
A parking lot shimmers
In the heat of its flat suburban plain
Far from the water's shore; the hot

Wind bearing down,

From Mother Nature's
In some stifling remnant of a car, we were kids,
God! you can’t imagine the excitement
Of being left alone,
Only experience it, the excitement
Of abandonment.

No one had appointed her
“Chief”, let’s just say
She gravitated towards the job
Naturally. Engine metal, sounds
In the distance, the chuff
Of a train, of birds,
But then the winds shift; and words
Dissipate in the labyrinthine
Chambers formed of the drift.
Off the horizon, the rumble
Of some heavy object.

She our hero would've hopped off the vinyl:
Out of the saddle, onto her bronze steed!
But I halted her screaming
Over the airy drone of the winds,
"You’ve got to hold down the fort!"
(And still the winds drone)
"In the face of vermin."

She never left the car; she wouldn’t
Leave the car that day she found something
Father never showed her and Mother, maybe, never knew
For sure. Bidding farewell to the bronze steed
She never will leave.

Bottle it up

(Steps One thru Four: Assemble Missive)

1. Empty bottle.
2. Tightly roll alibis and excuses into discrete cylinder.
3. Slip cylinder of alibis and excuses through bottle neck.
4. Secure contents of bottle with air-tight seal.

(Steps Five and Six: Launch Missive)

5. Locate major body of water.
6. Apply maximum force in projecting loaded bottle onto major body of water.

(Steps Seven thru Nine: Missive Recovery)

IMPORTANT NOTE: The following are the most delicate and precarious steps in the process due to the absence of object and instrument.

7. Envision bottle intact, contents preserved, washing ashore at some distant and future location.
8. Assume preserved bottle to be found, and enclosed missive to be recovered, by some distant and future sentient beings.
9. Consider, with awe and dread, the possibility those distant and future missive-receivers will put to better use than you were ever able your alibis and your excuses.