Ever since we disconnected the grid
predators have followed my bearing.
Buffeted by regret and holding my council I hid
as I am moored to the vanguard of time hearing
critics say you can’t be moored to a vanguard
for fuck’s sake. What will be the point of reading
this? I strive to hold you from the first word
‘til the last leaves you wrung out and transformed
as the infinite bell were heard inside the outer
layers. My heart aches for that one chime
that one pure sound sets free. You cannot hear it
once, nor count the themes
like Chinese, Ogam or Runic hieroglyphs
where the symbol is nearer to the meme.