Tuesday, April 12, 2016


A little industrial rain. The sheen of this, the sheen of that. Expiring daylight ought to correspond with a reduction in clarity. The animal energy—imagine that!—reserves itself for evening.

To say “evening” as if the darkness settles scores. Don’t deny yourself mythology on account of city planners and their poverty of ideas. Don’t deny yourself mythology.

If there is disassembly then there might be calibration. If there is no calibration then our streets will be mobbed with clock parts: hands, numerals, gears, mechanisms, bejeweled recollections.

A resale shop that specializes in clock parts: call it Secondhand Second Hand. A used clock becomes your favorite timepiece. Secondhand time becomes your favorite kind of time.

Who would not condemn these vicissitudes if vicissitudes meant the coordinates of poor behavior? Ineffable, as in “Can’t be F’ed up.” How about ineffable?

Neutrality tends to speed downhill, whatever the slope. The chilly clouds draped like Spanish moss among the appalling textures of trees, the allocation of dehydrated trees.

Or the cloud patterns resemble the tectonic impatience of momentary continents. The rain cycles through periods of building and periods of idling. Thus the rain forever.

Shuffle your feet if you desire panorama. Every panorama differs, every shuffle varies. Desk lamps burning in dark offices, an entire corridor brightened in this dark way.

Boot sock boot sock, shoe sock shoe sock, slipper sock slipper sock, boot sock boot sock. Out of doors, nobody knows this little grief you bear. Nobody knows you.


mark wallace said...

Apparently, then, nothing is ineffable. And thus, it was so.

Anonymous said...

is everything effable then


Anonymous (Casey?),

Yes, everything is effable. And haven't humans shown that? People have been known to express their love for citrus, puff pastry, masonry, appliances. . . .

But I digress.




Duly noted the scripture-sound of your declaration. God may have proclaimed as much at some point in Genesis. He often smote at the drop of a hat, and thus, nothing really is ineffable. Everything can be smitten!


douglang said...

Eff me, I did not mean to drop my hat. All my eftendis are busy with the puff pastry.

T. A. Zook said...

Ineffability rules!



Perhaps we can swing by the hardware store and look for some Effable-Off. You know -- it repels stuff. That, or it enables an Eff Off. Which is something that Steven Gerrard knows a thing about, not to mention just about every passer by in the English Kingdom.

The dropped hat has signaled someone to do something. The questions are -- who and what? Meanwhile, I await this outcome, ineffable as I am.



I'm with you, Ted. I especially like the idea of ineffability as "all hell crashes around us". That seems like the only survival, the only meaning, to borrow a phrase.