︎
What curious question wondered the curer-explorer
“What is the spleen and where is it mean
So I might cut it so I might know it?”
What awful ambition heaved the ambassador
“Bring me the hand lazy and lame
That I have not myself, that tends the land
So I might cut it, so I might know it.”
Not far and not few the other demands
From the astronome and the metronome
“Show me the atom, as is his labor
The measure of things with a breath”
“Give me tools or give me death
So I might cut it, so I might know it”
And the herborist hand in hand the embalmer
“So we might woe it, so we might sow it”
So were wired explosive so were coiled a matrix
In long there was undoing by fear of the disingenuous, then
Clickety-tick-tick-clac
Rickety-clic-clic-hack
Mimetic-liv-etic-snap
Lickety-rickety-boom
And the laboratory crack-ed, rickety-clickety
Now-treasure the dangerous, hocusy-pocusy
Veriticide, Erudicide
Soldiers at ease, foreignery forge peace
Humans in-cide, crawlers-all outside
Language division, lingua caprice
Langue chronophage, finally the dual hommage
All things clackeling, vibrating
All the once here and all the other there
The arsenal disassembled
Particles particular
Out of labor, out of tune-time
︎