If we were tan,
it would be last summer.
Reaction is unreliable
go with feeling.
Feeling is a palsied bitch
go with current.
If we were alive still
we'd be swimming in the lake;
we never did that before.
The outside is so real,
like the moving leaves
and times the sounds
of the train far off come
as in the metric system.
As if the three dimensional
coordinate difference
between one vector, vision,
and another is represented
by numbers.
And we understand the numbers.
Exploring the caves under the ground,
Falling from a very high point
to the ground, or into a fissure in it.
Skimming along where water
meets the air and all lateral movement
is under the purview of some sadistic fucker
from William Henry Harrison Junior High School.
You were this fucker,
I would discover later.
Your name was changed
by some arbitrariness
but you did not offer up
that information
without being asked.
(Who would as you of it?)
And there are severe politics involved
with this: someone has made a pact
with the aliens, though they seem mostly vacant.
This part is about a videogame called Halflife
that came out—some time ago, actually—
though I have just happened upon it.
Joesph Campbell does not know what is going on.
People who advocate linearity,
if you are miffed about this diatribe
you can sit on it.
