In better place than [cl]ever

You know when you know

that mostly you

know that not knowing

this or that is

knowing that what

you’re

at

is more or less – or

less and

more – the

knowledge you always had:

and knowing that

most of what you

knew

was knowing full well

the sell and buy of

foolish whirled,

the buy and break of

hell on earth, that

crystal suggest

and fudge of

political, the

icing of cherry, cherry-

picking ticking …

… and yet now you

know you

needn’t

have cared, for all

of your

knowing is now

back in the states of

those who declaimed you

and got it right

wrong.

And mebbe they

were afraider than

you when they

failed so profound

to know the you

you did really.

And you suffered so long,

and they perpetuated so

wrong, and yet – in

the days of sing and song,

and long – your place

and where you find

yourself is righter than

all the wrongs they

committed, to

archived hidden and

baldly powered and

every single what-, why-

and how-

ered.

And whether the future is

this way or that,

the cat whose mother

you couldn’t twirl

has become such a glorious

wonderful world, you

simply do not imagine

other weighs today: no

other burden, then,

heavy on shouldered

sole: for to have friends

round one

at last …

… at last

yous make me whole.


Merry Christmas, dearest friends.

Merry Christmas, yous.

Merry Christmas for your

kindnesses and

intelligences and, most

of all, your

compassions.

Most of all, your compass.

Most of all, you.

Most of all, yo!

🙂

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