on dreaming of a burning building by Indigo Tempestai
Denying the most plausible hypothesis Proposed as a double-blind by a blind proposer Neglecting uncertainty (the gasp of the calloused experience)
With facts and a language we go forth
ii
it was our hometown but our hometown being not a cobblestone Paris or Munich it was therefore not
on my bicycle i stopped and saw that hunched overcoat and i, alone cast to the ground, screamed
(the blow had strangled all the rest into a mangled, glistening silence) long into the next day
but you see the flames were long quenched by then: the pain was in the retelling, my mind performing countless murders, later
and the deaths? what were those? pure imagination; the unintelligible border between the completely real and the complete
dream
iii
In the question of something after life, in grasping for both infinity and now, we discover (or fail to find) the truly beautiful snare of the language we speak.
It is impossible to shape the most necessary things-- and these poets fail, eat rhubarb pie, shower, and resume their long work. 07/10/2005 Author's Note: do
thanks to johnny for edits, though i'm not sure i got where he or i wanted to go
Posted on 07/10/2005 Copyright © 2025 Indigo Tempesta
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