R/ckets and S/ntries

long live poetry, it's my current undertow. the means of unbuttoning, while preying on Heidegger himself, under the wraps and sure to begin a new sentence. suddenly, the alien sound, and it isn't the end of Mexico per se, near as can be determined, tho colleagues may be disgusted by the lack of tenure track. Hegel = (equal) Heidgger - (minus) vegetation. and then the windows of heaven opened. and then the fascist quality bespoke the certitude. and then the aliens gathered in increments, ready for the setting sun. and then it was just another day, with yet another one due. and somewhere along the way, poetry. not the invention of crude democratic surges, but POETRY.