I’ve successfully amalgamated
intellectuality with manual
labour -- which is something that the Marxists
seem not to have bothered with -- so as to
bring about humane alignments, not just
of the body & the mind but of the
concept & the practice. This is natural:
some trees just have further trees inside them,
even if the counting magpies see not,
for these trees on trees transfix my silence.
I am transfixed on Yggdrasil, I am
turning in the wind among raw helixes of birds, bred
among my hours to this consummation.
Lightning streams into extremities, demanding a strong vessel,
breaking many a strong vessel. Praise it
without names far from coordinates & hours.
