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The Nacreous Oughts
01 July 2005
The Thetan Frontier
This woven raiment of nights and days
greenhorn contingent of cargo hustlers
I heard R’llyeth talking
full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
in the darkness of time, in the deeps
of little guilt worms crawling
a desert of electronic dust
and the southwest-wind and the west-wind sing
there is none of them clear to us now, not one
howling whiteness under blackness
cat footed between the lumpy bunks
and the high gods took in hand
green satin and spine-bones
an armed angel whose hands rause up
fissures in the untooled rock
K. S.
This woven raiment of nights and days
greenhorn contingent of cargo hustlers
I heard R’llyeth talking
full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
in the darkness of time, in the deeps
of little guilt worms crawling
a desert of electronic dust
and the southwest-wind and the west-wind sing
there is none of them clear to us now, not one
howling whiteness under blackness
cat footed between the lumpy bunks
and the high gods took in hand
green satin and spine-bones
an armed angel whose hands rause up
fissures in the untooled rock
K. S.
