loch,land

[they look at me, as if]

they look at me, as if
they know me. perhaps they do.
they gossip amongst themselves.
perhaps i’m somewhere
known.
jeez that cantor. he can really
belt one out, can’t he?
his muddy voice about the place.
up high there. a slow return.
(get the belt to gird me with strength)
they look at me, as if
the procession of names waits to begin.
blessed be saint β the bedraggled and his mates.
all dead and gone.
(but where are my cuffs?)
perhaps they’re somewhere

nice.
they gossip amongst themselves.
there’s talk of a corpse washed ashore
among the bongs, they saw it and one poked it
with a stick. a slow return.
blessed be baruch the lensgrinder.
who couldn’t see shit.
belt one out, won’t you?
get off the bloody dais it’s my lecture
(let us commend ourselves and one another)
arthur you bloody pest.
it’s not clear who speaks.
the absolute is
a muddy voice about the place.
(and our whole life)
they look at their hands, as if

history has no course.
can’t you see shit?
the initial conditions define the
  subsequent conditions by conforming to
    regular transformations, though the
      entropy of the system increases over
        time and so if we reduce the entropy so
          that less is unknown history is
all dead and gone.
(by death have trampled death)
jeez that’s rough. the absolute is
defined by ΣδQ0(q)log2Q0 / δQ1)
we assume always the maximum entropy.
they laugh amongst themselves.
(those who hunger and thirst for righteousness)
perhaps i’m somewhat

lost.
i look around, as if
it’s really quite simple:
the true children of hillbert
study only trivial things.
there’s no landscape here.
a soft voice about the place.
but that’s all.
i can’t hear shit.
(accept this fervent supplication)
a monastery in the hills
in the shade of a radio mast.
vi i
ᴀ  ᴍᴇɴ
(the doors, the doors, in wisdom!)
it’s not clear who

sings.
we murmur amongst ourselves.
there’s some topology there
of smashed lenses
that’s really quite simple.
the corpse floats away. a slow return
to the shade of its office.
perhaps i’m something
up high there.
the procedure waits to begin.
(he is good and loves mankind)
they gaze at me, as if
i am diminished. perhaps i am.
i recite to myself:
perhaps i’m something
(                  )
else.


contact (gpg key)
email: lm @ (the domain)
elsewhere
lmorrissey.info (professional)
lochland.gitlab.io (coding)
All work is CC BY-NC-SA.