Sunday, August 9, 2009

January: Year-day 27

January: Year-day 27 Too much to think on, and with Shelley dead, Percy, stormed under in the gulf, the strength, madness, genius we need seems somehow fled; and with Paine and others gone, lost at length. And with our technic capabilities postindustrializing us at rates that presage clarity but form clouds, these moments passing, passed, strange, feel ancient dates. Composing here a linear thing when life about is circular, I would conclude the answer's there I darken as I do with a lashed world, a gulf in storm to ride, were I not of those adventurers whose flattest confrontations/ breed fending styles. -

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