From “We: A Passivity”

159 TIM ROBERTS FROM “WE: A PASSIVITY” — I am the By-Thyme. I am seen here, making it. Or it is me. The presences are repeated. I think it is writing. I think it is out and up and beside. Whatever is growing is near, my own eardrums, my very eardrums, my ability to resort to assurances. My ability to look through the colored glass, talking and talking over the real talking. How do you manage to kiss that figurine every day? Do you travel and kiss or do you leave your kissing for later, when you’re travelling, the best idea is the best idea is the best you can think of. MotionX is calculating your route. If you stop, mitigate plain speaking, harness ocular pump, you didn’t need a pair of new shoes,youdidn’tneedwords.Dickinsonturnstofiction.Wemake that comprehensible for everyone else. You’re reprehensible. All this crazy talk. Escape so that the intersection is everywhere, trains breaking down, trains breaking up, backpacks so heavy, she recalculates the route as a Coroner. I think it’s funny but no doubt hear the humming. What is it about the live feed you don’t want to hear? If the taxing ability is looking at you, what do you run in? The sound? No, the preposition. No, no, no, the way forward. The speaking way forward. The extrapolated interest in syllable after syllable, falling on your face fabricating. Fabricating when the mobility appears. The Coroner hums like a bee. 160 — I know I have only begun to be somewhere. Only begun to release my own words. It is this work that has put me here. It is this going back to the margins, going back, reversing. What can you mean in that referentiality? Because it is reference. Structure should not be falling and falling, but it is. This is where it lifts its heavy heft and points back to what’s crumbling. You are the way we have been rolling in. You claim the smoke is complete. Didn’t we fit it together, how much was ahead of us? This energy prevented the two sides of itself, it wanted for instance (a) school, entitled Standard Living School, entitled “lift me up” when you renovate, and then (b) nothing else, because it’s too complicated, because it’s using the word “light.” This energy will have to be trained. It’s repeatedly outfoxed. It’s going to reach the whole handle because of its repeated why. What am I saying? What I wanted in fiction? What’s going to settle this? A form, of art, wishy-washy is the right word. Morning and it feels like the only word. I take my project and I put it away. The dictionary is all colors of red, finally we know how to use it. Why do you say that book was only a pointing into? I have been heartened by the rotation effect. Now I’m sure I don’t want to proceed. I’m taking the sublime and gallivanting it around. That’s not fair. That’s not turning anyone on. It’s a constant, that feral child, that complexity, emerging from the woods bespattered. 161 — Believe these words. Not from day to day but in another way. The great mother. First at the vat. I want to be clear where my interest is. I’d give anything to talk about concretions, to go into the day with a goal. But the sound makes its slide. But it’s many a lay, when you think about it. When you’re the first person in nature to have a hint. This could be where you come in, what you are meant to do. This is what you’re here for. What you’ve been following. The burden rolls its pall over the concluding sections. We could have been here all day. I keep pushing but it’s relatively over. There’s a critique in the quotient. Did the book fail? Did it unfold a zero point? The instructions were to characterize the “Bee” and the “I.” Nobody much did it. Mouths made voices then they went in. Mouths went under where they...