avavaQa & dooline·mamoo plan to detonate the government aedificia of ıᵹñıł•ḥıł and as they sit on the planes of astrolabe faham avavaQa says
in reconstituted regimes of communication more now consumption than ecstasy whonyms obtrude numbers into tidal pods of indifferent nodes to thicken laden atmospheres of infection
words are numbers now and those who would seek roots forage for them in margined forests silent seeds in soils of dreams
word as number has clambered to its place on a dais so far from water and earth tottering visibly trying to compensate for its ungemahlen through torrents of distraction and a riesig überspanntheit crammed insufferably into die gestalt des whonym
and languages trümmer? not in action name form hope but the mad in forlorn stutterings and drunken stammerings alienized lips reveal the wreckage of the day
and dooline˚mamoo ponders avavaQas utterance as a black moon tarries in electric resignation on heavens predelle painted with the viscera of the yeasty & unredeemed and as the infinitely variable transmission of camaraderie slips dooline˙mamoo says
when we count we do not see numbers but rather sense their shape which is never quite revealed to us and in this sensing might be a tranquility of word
it is good to mow ones deck it is good to rake bread until the plops phone home it is good to say it is good
words now in their usurpation of air might assume regulatory functions they may not have have been trained for but what is that governance in a geometry without end
a lethargy sets in establishes itself in the astral pith of language a quintessence perhaps tangential to the question of a life as it snicks in remarkable vibrations
and the two once friends have detonated them
selves with compressed plenitude of dealings and
the aedificia of ıᵹñıł•ḥıł yet
stand
