In the beginning was the touch an arm stretched across the gulf between you and me the movement of fingers in fur (the -ologist within the primate dismisses it as grooming) touch kept the word at arms length as nothing need be said where skin to skin relate fingers in fur, communication pure. But somewhere,…
How deeply we delve, delude ourselves. These are rock-pools nothing more. And we know nothing yet.
The lion shall lay down with the lamb the pork, the beef and the ham.
Protoplasmic assemblages sensitive to cosmos and her harmonics – we set ourselves on edge.
When I deem it necessary I will take control, until then I’ll just sit here and spectate. Anticipate the pleasures awaiting the focusing of my attention. When I deem it necessary I will lose control, it’s the same thing really but I will unfold – open my eyes to the true energy unravel the mysteries…
Food for fungus . . . you, me and the mighty redwood tree. Food for thought . . . the mighty redwood tree and you. Food for the cannibal’s pot . . . me!
Words multiply as flies beneath the sun, a few too many for the good of man, yet not enough to really make a difference.