Parading

and he gave it away

Know. Beyond the horizon a great unceasing noise is undeniable. The machine,

still blurs. But all words

Looking to see what adds up.

we wanted to stay at—We wanted to get

Or I live on a thorn on a trellis—

Crushed hub, they say, a vortex, a black hole

You stand here there

Set free, fleeing from the soul gone flying

When you doubt the world