fog & fog talk in fog about fog

there is nothing for you here but madness

but there is nothing for me there but madness

so where will you go

here there  there here

you go to madness

i am always here

madness is always with us

what is madness

madness is herethere

madness is the going that has gone

hello nothing

hello madness

hello hello

here but you is for there

amen

for some say that order is the way

and others chaos

and neither right

and both right

yet who could walk both and neither?

and the path of trying is the path of madness

and the path of seeing but not trying is also the path

and the path of neither trying nor seeing is madness

and the madness that is not madness is also the path

there is no path outside the path for all is path

and this is madness

there is sky and land and sea and fire

but they are dead in our hearts

we have kept them alive technically

they are dead in our hearts

the gap between coitus and dream

this is madness

the wheel that re-turns

this is madness

the dove and the oil

this is madness

the word that has forgotten how to fly

this is madness

the the that keeps theing

this too is madness

here we are

in the this and the here and the the

we shall win a prize

from the society of the nonexistent

and it shall be called onk

the prize of onk shall be ours

we shall place it high on the shelves of our soul

and dust it like rare italian marble

we shall call ourselves those of onk

and those who disdain us shall call us onkists

and there shall be a war

between the onkists and the yoophians

between the onkists and the uffuls

between the uffuls and the yoophians

between all and all

and this is madness

let us go to sleep

for we have exhausted the possibilities

but rather we have not exhausted the possibilities but they have exhausted us

for the night has gone and day is here and it is time to sleep

for we no longer know how to distinguish day and night

and this is madness

and this is the dusting

and this is madness

and here we are  the last poets

the last poets are always the last

and this is madness

we seek fog like others seek light or money or love

nothing for us here but fog

and fog is the wheel

and the wheel is the sea

the sea the hello

the hello the prize

the prize the sleep

let us sleep

and this is madness

and this is sleep

this is sleep