All This Wild Theorizing (she's a thief): [after the Metaphysics, run!]

since everything which comes into being comes from something and becomes something)-- then mash tun
ash of
th fallen
sun ash smeared
upon the sunken
white
temple
ash and milk
milk anew
fermented
and
golden
with the old
of mineral
morning ash
of Arizona

but you gotta listen to fun
because
fun is quiet

a song

which one do you think it is?
a song which is that was?
the name that was but will be?

--as in a revelation
to a quiz show begun
to become
and burned left dry coming from the North
with
want of brother
guitar

that man has
--what a life
just drink
and
play guitar
and I'l sing a cinder to a
center of ash and
something


and this is where I lose the loss of you
voices
tin and steel
tongue
which fork through broken
yoke (she says the yellow part)

broke
like all little dogs
and country hearts my yoke aches
of
old songs
and for you and for every curly-lockes I see
yes that's for you

there's a tender I'd burn to ash for
nor
turn a baby bend
nor allay alley--
conflagration of one or a thousand
I'd take it all--of them--

won't that it were free it heard nothin

nothin in that a solid sanctity
in that I'd not
f e e l
nothin nothin bout it
for it
nothin of it just a free ol think like a
means
or a
motive
those are free they just hand them out at the airport when you arrive
but I
require
a
rare
t
h
i
n
g

something which only you hold
but I cannot ask
my word is not your key
but
open is open and that's the thing I'll think I be

it's just goddammit I miss you
and my gut misses you
my paws
and my knees
--misses needs
riskin into
new voids
olduns
get
oldun guns
o
golden ones
(she's a thief in a good way yes?)