19.i.23
1114
4.19
a
list of un-to-do
beginning already tomorrow
here in the after-self
a presence yet
perception a question
dot dot
death is easy, so they say
and not a thing you’ll know
but here we half are
abstract, still
in and out of weather
where
pull up your socks
pick up
dust off
and all this ever way
collect myself
a leaf-through life
there’s no one else to un-to-do
bones kept in skin for an ache
call it all sorts
a dance
so
and what can any one sign mean
but follow
and be followed on
?
the overgrowing
superscript
an underbrush
or thicket
self
is the falling down house
we all do
the vagus nerve
the dinosaur stem
the day gone on indoors
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