tackling tattered thoughts.
the grip of thought-sound
H-houtside of da conquer-troll.
Calm is the only answer to the realisation that these words too, are not mine: Just surround-bites in the soundstream.
"sure da man don't walk da dog; da dog doth walk da man."
Data-dreams, 'n'an outspray of interpretations.
Hold me, it feels. Hold me together.
But, what yea-yea-yeats once said fell apart at the streams,
as the will-o-thee wishes, wept,
Come now. This is not to be under-stood.
Such tittle-tat is to take one to the un-known
where no one's one can go.