Thursday, June 28, 2007


“We never go out of ourselves’
it is always our own thought
that we perceive….the man is,
as it were, clapped into jail by
his consciousness.” (Emerson)

I’m Buster Brown.
I live in a shoe.
That’s my dog, Tige.
He lives there too.

Womb of my own,
my environmental
studies & alma

Let me count the ways I image
image-I-nation, & the more magic
the mighty machine: the merrier--
sealed-in, salving & protecting my
Directional Navigational Algorithms
like home land securities so that no
thing untoward or BB Wolf breaks
in uninvited invading my mind movies,
cradle, rock a bye baby, sound track
and all.

The beauty is: origins can be established by
agree ability: let’s say for the sake of argument:
1) drawing distinctions is the heart of thinking;
2) call arguing-them-out the heart of academics;
3) relating them: the heart of understanding.

Right there: beginning, middle, & ending:
history to generate argument— a premise,
implications unfolded, & possible
conclusions. 3 hearts as one.

You don’t agree?
Where would you draw the line
to begin again? Swell a progress?
Start a scene or two? Squeeze a
universe into balls to instigate a
story? Raise an issue? Beget?
Begat? Begot? Nurture?

xxxooo, Presbyter

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