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O V E R TA K E L E S S N E S S a f t e r a l b e r t p i n k h a m r y d e r To speak inaudibly, the outside, its blurred sentence foreshadowed, indistinguishable as shining brass. The room, the empty sky, beautiful or golden bands burn because it is empty. Without depth of field birds become primitive again. Unstuck weeds float downstream completing representation. A thick green complicating light. Now face the horizon in silence. Come down while gladness unbinds sleep unlike silt. This quiet speech feels right and will be imitated. To turn away, to speak fondly without a history. Come down and rediscover this ancient province as persons exchange smiles like wind instruments. There, unlike any road you travel, are small tidings that awakening, are pleasing. No history is clear. 90 ...

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