report 000017: the search for syntactical solecism

when you have exhausted all utterance: through conjuration a new line appears. charles, he said, thou take this mile & i the next. elsewhere a man matches lunar progress to charts. you'd think that after all this time-- but there is a hunger. an ornateness in our mastication. tomorrow rising you will see

that the bird is flown; a line to elsewhere; incommunicado, but to whom? darling, it is time & the gears back in step now, like biting your nails & all them bad habits just as easy as--. judging from the fax it could be anyone. in a court of law that hardly holds, or in grip

we slide down to the waterfront together. some hardtack for your voyage, mon horloge? the aspirate awls between us & our system. this early salt-spray the changing of seasons, that decoded message--we huddle, you& i, around an invisible flame. turn up the burner. proceed. i am

the ring-stand for your experiment. toss one in. it's three for five. we're oh for two. i grow weary of algebra; shift gears after the aleph--siphon off the infinite & make it your aubade. the next time this comes up, increase the ordinal. recompute. devour.