Blog Notes

Writing small bits of verse as a kind of careful construction of language to build a composition on.

Lots of little and large projects flying through my mind, all in various states of undone ness. A brief break from the manic job search has reawakened my compositional self. A welcome return to a flow of energy that had been stopped but also the unleashing again of the mania, the unstoppable and dangerous energy of urgency and panic. A good leash held by my own hand might yet contain me. And now again back to the job hunt push. A marathon with few favorable landmarks and no clear indication of a finish line in sight.

Oh, the finish, the surface, the fine polish of it all. And again I am yes and yes and...

More notes to come in this slight system of writing and then not writing in the way that I can and cannot see the keys as I am typing.

I believe that the future is in the doing and undoing of it all. There is not more to say than what has already been said but still I cannot imagine a better way of doing this than the way I am doing it now looking at the windows cut out of the other walls and then the stone made into to towers of hope and cages for the offices of workers going to and fro along the streets of this idle urbs this might forty nine square mile of manic more. A law becomes an observation when its truth is undone by the undoing of its truth by the poets pretense of becoming more than a scribe for the beings above that do not tell the truth but only invent it again from the sounds of something more than silence.