Nodulizing, clumps of stuff stars are most likely made from.

dust of nothing after ever exploded at once
upon a time,
you paused

to wonder if this is serious.
If life were a test, what is a passing mark?
– no extra credit for Infinite Jest

HA, the moral of the story, this is the do no more,
listen, learn to teach the trick,

to any who know the secret word, which is, in any language
– too secret to say, in the ears of all

Similarly, just because English lacks a formal hodiernal tense
does not mean
that English speakers cannot distinguish events
which occur “today” versus those on another day.

From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Folk_linguistics

Suppose this is only hades, and hell is mental.

So, while this is today, let us say, we
leave a mark of meaning for the late arrivals.

Not another solstice puzzle. No, a sphinxical hint.
A riddle of the ezeklian sort.
Just say it.
Plain as Habakkuk’s habit.

But what if the language is lost? Think it loud, now,
whole heart and mind fervent, umph try, try
enough to resonate,
the rocks we rest in shade of,
these wits invent, litho-wireless,
any granite formation cries out, hosanna,
listen, tap it with that hammer you wished you had,

find a tiny crystal ping, deep in the granite uplift,
hours younger than the Himalaya,
eons older than Hawaii, crystal ping, more know

more know,
more know, knowing cannot unreconcile
a formed and integrated mind anointing,
oil-lube, slick-slip past dry rusty
mind, intent
on moving one dammed thing,
that ought never have been used to stumble me,
cross-thread at the cross road, righty tighty might,
lose a left wheel, if I knew no better
than to allow an edit
to snip the sense,
attention prepaid, makes light of
– you wit me?
Pratt-fall, yoke me to the mill-stone, call me, Sam’s son,
laugh, you dog.

Did you imagine murder, or watch it on TV?
Remember how it functions to end a being bubble,
but
you only felt it, from the murderer’s POV,
thus we drift in to sniff missed concepts,
rungs wrapped in invisible precepts,
first hand hold lift learned way,
say – look out for angels going up and down
be the wary reader,
be ready for the riddle, know the riddle lurks
– in what particular way are you not me?

try umph, grunt, leverage
use the only tool a chimp can recognize
~stick with it, lift a little, push a little, lift a little
learn a little, know a little, use a little

ever

in every, as
all ever things contain a bit of oomphalic ancient
knowledge, whatifery of a curious sort,
first root knowledge, and first branch knowledge,
fructify, bring forth the seed within yourself,
plant the good,
and all may be, there is a rule,
good tree, good fruit,
knowing good,
and knowing the entirety of not good,
the absence of any comfort at all, not a drip,
miss the good ever and manifest your worst fear after dying,
manifest your
entire hell idea, dug.
Can you digit, you think, hippie talk, 1968, I can dig it;

digital differences, stored knowing versus used knowledge,
held in potential zingers,
for quick study.

You know what I mean? If you lie, one of us is lost.

Do you know where Persephone hangs out?

A guide back for backsliders, that is what some redeemed words
do, we pull pitiful souls from the que-st, venture your very soul,

words are merest of all things, as Moses was the meekest.

DID I stand accused?
Is my habit causing you to cringe?

I am picking my gnosis.
We are legion, reformed and reconstituted,
I am one of Father Abraham’s sons of the promise.

Yes. It is widely known.
Yes, there is a culture risen from the leaven.

Leave us, take your leave, by my leave begone,
legions learn to obey any who know
I am authorized to use my finished faith.

Listen. let’s rest and watch some sci-fi. No philosophy.
Some PKD, but not with Tom Cruise, the idea that has him,
clenches all my sphincters when I think of that idea
ever having me.
You know?
Three early translations of the Polychronicon exist.

From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ranulf_Higden

I wish to be mortal, a while, as always,
I know
nothing never comes again, this is all there
ever was,
life in a word, imagining

more of me, would be ok.
But I have no way to make another me.
– mortally, I could.
humus with proper prep, and a stiff breeze
ionic imparlance-imbalance, FLASH
——————–
Taste the carnal knowledge
——————–
I see I have some knowledge, cultural right,
good to know,
this is now as real as ever was, before.
This is after,
and it takes forever to make sense of the foul smell.

You.
You stink. You thinky stinky hate and proud difference,
why are you so happy to be old?

Knock, knock. No joke.