Ground control to major tom, your about to go over to the other side….
Sitting in Vermont, with a foot of powder outside, watching dying flies on the inside of cold panes of glass as they crawl on top of the thing they cannot understand and die because they refuse to submit to epiphany…the refusal to accept the divinity that frames our frame of reference, almost like me evacuated and tender-bearing across a vast stretch of highway better suited to solar panels than turn-around spots, wishing i had understood the concept of leaving home the last time to a fuller extent before spangling my cables and hooking the planking or the bridge Rilke knew or the line of ink the vim of a sporadically blessed moment and taking my leave without the keys to things i should have locked.
plenary authority means the fractal will color me that grey shade of change should i overstep the possible in China, but there are certainly plenty of places to hermit it up for a bit and recoup the unyielding tacit which will help me say what i will by then need to say.