Money Has an Enemy: Ring 2

Money Has An Enemy  1.2

We know where we have been:
a world enclosed in a bank.

Infirmity, pervasive;

Infinity, internal only,
occult, a work
for Wrench Boy.

Encounter, counter, Hammerhead.

Develop the sexuality of Melee.

Find crystal wherever possible.

Work out the symbolism of rocks.

Crystal, your loveliness--pervasive:
an infinity enclosed in stone,
a lure for Wrench Boy.

Infinitesimal infinity,
a method by which Wrench Boy
works the bank
and counters Hammerhead.

[]

The bugle, an instrument by which
alerts are propounded
and suffered
by Wrench Boy
but also by others.

Infinity blows the bellows.

Apocalyptic attitudes tincture Melee.

The conduct of life--Long River.

Infirmity worked with, affirmed
but not by Hammerhead.

[]

On the hill top
an old hotel.

In each room
a red book or red box.

The guests have various infirmities.

The Old Hotel will triumph and glow,
its infirmity the instrument of Transport.

Infinity no more exigent than embryo.

Wrench Boy, the custodian of Embryo,
though the quality of his jazzed up imperium
sometimes seem like a zoo.

Enter Jaguar:

Custodian and exaltation of Aberration,
such that the event of conflagration
become the instrument of Wrench boy.

Every term to be treated as a rock,
even if Wrench Boy is distracted by Rain Gear.

Eventually we shall enter
transports of crystal.

Ten-thousand jaguars
surround Aberration.

Violet will never submit
to the advances of Hammerhead.

[]

Being itself an appearance of Zero
whose ornament is crystal.

Tongs work the flames
inside and out
and tongs select the terms--
interact with Deep Storage
to transport the packages of crystal.

Ten-thousand jaguars
extenuate a single aberration.

Violet turns usefully violent
and extenuates Hammerhead.

[]

Old Hotel--
whose fixtures are crystal.

Being itself--Black Box.

Crystal, a gender affinitant for African Rattle.

Wrench Boy
perfected
by Vocabulary.

Aberration and Infirmity
ride on the back of  a jaguar.

Wrench Boy has all the money,
which vanishes utterly, replaced
by a meadow of violets.

Money Has An Enemy 2.2

The sentinel Jaguar was possessed of circumspection
that stretched to infinity.

The Bank had wished to employ him
from the time he was in embryo.

It made no sense to them
that he should be "pedaling rain gear"
or that the African rattle
he picked with strange blue tongs
out of a little red box
should supplement those tongs
as if they were magical weapons--
should sound with such an uncanny, inappropriate uproar
as to disrupt the business of the bank.

It was in fact in  embryo
the violence to finish The Bank--
in embryo the ascendancy of Jaguar
in spite of his rain gear.

[]

Crystal lives in the mountains.
Her mind is tranquil, her spirit clear.

Even her thoughts are made out of light.

When she speaks, the stones listen.

When she sits in meditation,
the many streams of the mountains
sparkle and run clear.

Tongs are not in her picture.

The Bank ignores her.

Zero itself is the source of her tranquility.

[]

The Red Box
was hidden among rocks
as if in Deep Storage.

The little blue tongs were magical weapons indeed.
The Bank could make nothing of them.
Not even that they might stimulate
conflagration in embryo.

[]

The jaguar guided the tongs,
played dumb about conflagration,
pretended to protect against melee,
was a secret harmonic of Long River.

Enough about "tongs."
You do not use them
to extract things from Black Box and its fecund vocabulary.
You hold such matters quietly in embryo.

Enough about tongs.

Infirmity, interpreted, works well with Infinity.

The Bank keeps its own "red box."

[]

Down the hill from The Old Hotel,
I found fair Violet in an indigo shadow.

Melee entirely in embryo.

Nothing to vex with rocks
or abuse a default Black Box
as if it were the kind of zero
that only manufactures rain gear.

[]

Innocent Transport in embryo--
nothing to bugle.

Hammerhead on the lookout,
his latter-day virulence in embryo.

Deep Storage, a recess
concealing Infinity.

[]

The gods worked the bellows,
nourished everything in embryo--
even Wrench boy.

This was "the time of the gods." A thing of Egypt.

The gods worked the tongs.

Crystal herself a kind of Black Box.

If you looked out at the manifest universe,
you only saw rocks.

Money Has an Enemy 3.2

Now it becomes possible
to take a look
inside Black Box.

One does not see the bank.

FLASH! and the gem stone
eyes of the jaguar!

SWOOSH! and the bellows closes,
blows the bugle.

Instantaneous conflagration
sweeps across space
revealing Hammerhead.

FLASH AGAIN! Deep Storage now.

Solemn Hammerhead
standing still and silent.

The jaguar in solemn motion
watching,  prowling.

The bellows opens, the atmosphere, the flames,
the smoke and strangeness
sucked up inside it.

No jaguar now.
No further suck of bellows.

The Black Box housed a holy space inside it.

A blast of bugle suppressed it.

[]

Change of scene. The inside of an embryo:
condition zero.

Hammerhead in imago
seeks to suck his way
inside its metabolic corridors.

The walls of the thing segmented
to facilitate deep storage.

Hidden throbbing life.
Then heat.
Incipient conflagration.

[]

Not yet time for melee.
Dark and solemn precincts.

Hammerhead: center rear.

Front and center: Wrench Boy.

The walls are built with rocks.

[]

Now Hammerhead
concentrates
to rule The Old Hotel.

His hammers
bang after tongs
pick toiling rocks.

African rattle
jazzing it
in the "Old Zero Lounge."

The walls papered red,
the carpets also,
the lounge is like a brilliant red interior
of a red box.

[]

Transport, yes,
but a certain nervous agitation
blocks it.

African Rattle echoes in Red Box.
Echoes and shadows and flashes
of a distant conflagration.

[]

The locked bank
conceals its zeros.

It cannot find its place along Long River.

"The Men in Rain Gear"
provide themselves with bellows
to pump the flames
around The Old Hotel
and pack the Bank.

[]

Infinity seeks to strike a deal
with a darkly quivering Hammerhead
who wants to X-out Crystal
and cure her strangely fetching
sense of aberration.

Infirmity thus circulates
between the rocks
and the deeper instantaneous venues
that for an instant flash on holy spaces:

an enormous pillar-tall African rattle, front left, tall like a pillar;
an enormous column of violets, front right.

[]

Now deploy the bellows
to calm The Old Hotel:

the African rattle trained to a solemn rhythm;
Conflagration tuned to a solemn rhythm.

Wrench Boy, a magical being,
front and center.

Money Has An Enemy 4.2

Zero: the diadem on the jaguar's brow
poised before Black Box, his skrying stone.

The session today?
Here's what he saw:

Long River runs through
its own vocabulary: each word
its special thralldom.

[]

Wrench Boy is Wrench Girl.

[]

We weather rain gear,
watch lights flicker in the windows
at every chamber of The Old Hotel.

The sounds of Long River
surround Black Box.

An efflux of zeros
conditions Vocabulary,

each word
its own special thralldom.

"Aberration": an aberration
which does not switch light in crystal.

The jaguar sees her
in his skrying stone,
unweathers thralldom with zeros.

[]

What does Long River know?
The inner work of the bellows.

What does Bellows blow?
Aberration and its terminus.

Where is such knowledge kept?
On the silent pages of Red Book.

Fair cause for Transport.

[]

When Bellows blows,
a world appears.

When Bellows takes a breath--
World Night.

Aberration sponsor Conflagration?
Apply the tongs.

Melee mix her being with Long River?
Usher in an epoch
of transverse Infirmity.

[]

Hammerhead, Master of Aberration,
sets his eye on Jaguar's ascendancy
and thinks to put to use
his fascination, unrequited, with fair Violet.

Worldless, he sneaks at night
crazed with quasi-ecstasy,
through the halls of The Old Hotel.

He wants to assume her mind.

African Rattle cannot protect her now,
being asleep in the second chamber.

Sleep does not recur to Embryo.
She might just disguise herself in fashionable rain gear.

She draws upon the forces of Long River
and grows along its banks.

Jaguar enters his skrying stone
and prowls where she springs.

The two together contemplate fiery tongs
and identify mentally with Wrench Girl.

The use of tiny tongs can focus the mind,
Infirmity no distractor.

Truly, no need for rain gear.
No call for Bugle.

Long River runs through this cosmos,
the secret heart of Crystal,
Infinity distributed evenly
through all its things and spaces.

We read of this if we must in our Red Book
on a weather-beaten rocker
taking off our rain gear,
the porch of The  Old Hotel weather enough,
as we listen for the distant conflagration.

[]

It seems but infirmity
to wait for conflagration.

We do not, in this position,
put our trust in Rock.

Long River, strong and wild,
can surely brook very well
anyone's infirmity.

Money Has An Enemy 5.2

Aberration is no Black Box,
no sport of Zero.

An accident of Crystal,
a spur to lust for Transport.

The active torque in embryo.

We blow the bugle,
open inquiry into its juncture with infirmity.

The bugle will not tell
what Zero rules of Crystal.

Zero rules "The Quotient."
This is a mystery of Crystal.

There is no aberration
that rules out Transport.

[]

Bank must rule Deep Storage
and imprint upon an interior of Black Box
its power to control The Old Hotel and its lounges
with an effigy of Wrench Girl,
remove from every hyper-dimensional Crystal
her distribution of deep zero;
in short to turn out the light
in The Old Hotel.

Set Rule
to Rule.

[]

Rain Gear has been elaborated
to block Melee.

Every bugle neutralized.
A wizened Hammerhead
has his sabbatical
to study African Rattle.

They do not produce
intro-invertible rain gear.

Black Box is not invertible.

The skrying function ignored
goes black,
though Violet The Violent
is forced by fiduciary authority
to vanish away on furlough.

[]

Conflagration--reduced to the hypothetical.

Uncompellable residues,
ubiquitous throughout Deep Storage,
are factored therefrom
so random elements
seem reduced to zero.

Only Hammerhead,
serious wizzard now,
retains some clarity
pertaining to Deep Storage--
that its capacity is infinity.

Yet he vacillates twixt wishing to
hammer out fair Crystal
and utterly possess her
by becoming her.

He alone keeps an eye on the tongs.

But Crystal knows secret recesses--
--invisible crystal--
and hides her being
inside the eyes of the jaguar.

[]

Here is an indexical application
of the wall of rocks:
one to each thing in being and the word that compels it.

Wrench Girl herself walled in
by a thralldom of words,
nevertheless gets to work on her vocabulary.

Vocabulary--no bugle, no infirmity.

They neglect to keep her from the tongs.

Thus Wrench Girl habituates Zero,
accumulates Red Box--Wrench Girl
costumed by Infirmity--Wrench Girl
commoded in rain gear--

works out her affinity with Melee,
her fascination fascinates Crystal.

[]

Flip infirmity.

The Old Hotel--
almost Black Box--
does not abuse Infinity.

[]

Pull that bugle
off from its nail.

Pump, swoosh,  and suck
ontology out of Bellows...

Money Has An Enemy 6.2

I've had enough of Melee.

Even she begins to think about Zero
as a kind of aberration.

She picks up tongs
and wants to talk to Violet.

She manipulates the bellows
and starts to manage vocabulary.

Infinity: of questionable vocabulary.
Aberration: best to correct it with tongs.

Nothing happy in the quest for Aberration.

Nothing thaumaturgical, necessarily,
that can't be demystified by tongs.

O Melee--
lets both go talk to violets.

[]

Deep Storage is shocked to hear all this.
He coils to protect his embryos.

Zero, of course, remains stable--
quietly sustaining the threat.

African rattle
shakes above its handle.

Tongs is interested
regarding this new deployment.

But even I myself
am concerned about sudden infirmity.

Black Box will adequately nourish every embryo.
I myself will take care of rain gear.

And I myself still listen
for distant conflagration.

No one can successfully
abrogate infinity.

So: come let us take out rooms in the Old Hotel
and consult, as if the judgment of our mind
the skrying stone of Being that is Black Box.

Acknowledge infirmity.
Awaken Zero.
Attend to Aberration
as among the deep deliverances of Long River
whose source and ambience is infinity forever.

[]

Enter: Wrench Girl.

Alone in the lounge of The Old Hotel.

Hammerhead had become me.

Long River flows without the use of tongs.

It is not possible, O Melee,
for you to put
tongs to Aberration and by such means
make strong our mutual infirmity.

Crystal glistens as she listens to African Rattle.

Zero the perpetual resolution
of confinement to Red Box.

Dissolve all attachments in infinity.

[]

The Bank recurs
by an ambiguous deployment of tongs
and the subtle wizzardry of Hammerhead.

Should I hereby blow the bugle
to honor Zero?
Refuse to founder on the stability of Rocks?

Red Box, a mare's nest of attachments--
to be trapped in one's embryo
and forced to seek transport to transport.

Vocabulary, in and out of the bank.

Hammerhead in his queer element,
perpetually nails down the coffin lid,
watches from the corner of his eye
fleeting windblown violets.

[]

Had Jaguar been more attentive
to events in The Old Hotel,
tongs would never have ceased being magical tongs
and picked clean The Bank.

Money Has An Enemy 7.2

Someone stole the African Rattle.

Did they think its music, aberration?

Corruption
of social order
tending toward Melee?

Was it Hammerhead?

Did they want to base the world
on Rock?

Long River, Transport
versus
the cosmos as Bank.

Transport specie only.

But Melee knows a secret about Hammerhead.
Melee witnessed Hammerhead
crazy waving skyward African Rattle
out at night
smashing his hammers
on rocks.

Transport in that sense
proves quite universal,
tongs, magical,
Jaguars, capable
of pumping bellows,
blowing bugles.

For transport--Melee--completely
acceptable.

[]

There was a proliferation of jaguars.

These dissolved in a state of transport--ecstasy--
each distinct entity
dissolved in infinity,
infinity
configured conflagration.

[]

I myself have assumed
identity as Hammerhead.

He slipped in to my self
when I was an embryo, remember?

I transported surreptitiously
through the zygote crystal,
by-passed infirmity,
took transport
for my jaguar.

It has nothing to do with violets or violence,
does not require existence
to ride the rocks.

In spite of the myth about this
I do not have it in for Crystal
or her specific sort of aberration.

I have no truck with infinity,

I am Hammerhead.

I drive my own jaguar,
am my own aberration,
blow my own bugle.

We'll see about Wrench Girl.

I do what I please with the Bank.

I never wear rain gear
but leave that for Jaguar.

I do not quip about bellows.

In spite of the rumor
I do not take out rooms
in The Old Hotel.

Dammit, I am Hammerhead!

[]

As for that exaggeration they call Black Box,
it seems like everyone's infirmity.

I'll use the bellows to dispel that.
Likewise Zero.

Given an adequate vocabulary
it is no aberration
to put it all in a red box--
this should be deep enough
for any need that I will have for storage.

Enough about bellows.

I have no truck with infinity.

There's no such thing as Long River.

Money Has An Enemy 8.2

The Great Conflagration
and its consequent melee--

its sound like ten-thousand African rattles--

the run on the market for rain gear,

the historical records
contained in Red Box--

was, 

for Crystal,
and Violet also,

an occasion for the recrudescence of innocence--

And the jaguars
planted violets

and all the survivors
had African rattles--

rain gear
was once again
brain gear--

what joy to shake the rattles from Africa
in America, the Mother
of Rain Gear--

Conflagration, the great event--
emancipation at last--

all this told and foretold, retold
on the pages of a book
stored in Red Box.

[]

Vocabulary, both magical and otherwise--
involves a principle of Melee:

The antagonists of African rattles
all eaten by jaguars.

The transformation of rain gear
through the scrub-brush heroics of pure zero
provided the pockets
of each set of rain gear
with a rattle from Africa.

[]

For the time being, each word
blossomed its sweet special thralldom.

The continent of Europe: A Bank.
America: A Prophecy
of Transport. Its mountains
indigo shadows,
its meadows of violets.

African rattles burst open,
the seeds scatter everywhere.

Africa in ruins.

Everywhere, the sign of
emancipation at last--
a frantic activity in embryo.

[]

I was administered tincture
under the signature of violet,
when Hammerhead had me, utterly--

My only recourse was to enter Black Box.

I discovered the heart of Long River
and a more circumspect vocabulary

in the shadows of indigo, sweet violets.

[]

The Bank and its indices
increasingly everywhere, not loved,
in spite of the inevitable eclipse of Europe.

The Black Box an appearance of Being;
Asia: the promise of Crystal.

[]

Violet, indefensible, undefended, waxes prodigious:
a project for Wrench Girl.

Wrench Girl equipped and acquainted
with innumerable small blue tongs,
prepares for negotiations with Melee.

[]

It was during the Great Conflagration
that I had that flap with possession,
but who am I to say it's over now?

Hammerhead, where are you headed?

To conflate your being with Wrench Girl?
entangle with violets?
become Aberration?

Will Wrench Girl reach Melee before that?

The two will not strengthen infirmity
even with transmuted rain gear.
No bugle yet.

[]

We all assemble again
in the red lounge of The Old Hotel.

All but Violet.

She sits on a ridge without rain gear.

She keeps a set of bellows
inactive close beside her.

A modest raceme of violets in every window.

All Rocks remain as they are.

The Earth: just a big rock.

Money Has An Enemy 9.2

Wrench Girl gives her analysis
of African Rattle.

Its forces arise in The Great Conflagration.

Its function is like a bugle:
to awaken our forces
out of Deep Storage.

She conducts her researches
with little blue tongs
among words plucked like rocks
when she opens Black Box.

The rocks, she recapitulates,
are empty of substance
save for confined conflagration.

Blow a bugle for that:
to confine conflagration--
a bugle for Wrench Girl
and her assiduous research
in Deep Storage.

[]

She sits enthroned
beyond Infirmity
on a basis whose arithmetic
is metaphysically like zero.

Her bugle need not blow.

She confines conflagration
to an instrument for transport.

She knows very well
how to pluck and unpluck with tongs.

For the time being she entrusts
Hammerhead, enfeebled,
to a cosmic enhancement of crystal,
whose arrangements of structured nodes
makes use of numerous zeros.

Time itself--this time--
just like an embryo.

[]

Melee haunts the outskirts.
No messages for embryo.

For the time being
we just put cash in the bank.

Equilibrium requires no transport.

Bellows as synthetic as breath.

The bugle hangs on its nail.

Vocabulary vexes nobody.

[]

Tongs in times of tranquility.

Rocks but the walls of a bank.

Conflagration--a dream about jaguars.

Black Box -- a Black Box.

O that ancient bugle,
dig its fascinating insignia.

Intensity of interest:
of interest as pure aberration.

Generosity, with furtive glances,
inhabits the bank.

Not many have dreams about Crystal.

Not many discuss the embryo
and its intimate structures like crystal.

Violets grow in the grass

but Crystal begins to grow restive
and banks upon Melee.

[]

You cannot, however, abrogate infinity forever
or finally silence jazz and the dance of the bugle.

The Old Hotel
decays on the hill.

The bugle dreams
of an ever-expandable vocabulary.

Someone discovers
an actual African Rattle
stashed in a pocket of her rain gear.

Someone hears Long River
running over the rocks.

Someone takes the Red Book
out of its Red Box. 

Money Has An Enemy 10.2

"Normal Life"

comprehends the embryo,
has an intelligent attitude toward
Events of Conflagration.

They should be of small concern
to the woman who occupies
the office that is "Wrench Girl."

She manages Vocabulary.

Lights go off and on
in the windows of The Red Hotel.

Hammerhead also manages.

Ten thousand ordinary items
ordered in red boxes.
That's his office.

Ordinary Zero--the concept of it--
holds blank places.

No moods or mysteries,
no metaphysical fracas,
no special thrill
for Wrench Girl.

Everybody's vocabulary
the business of this Wrench Girl.

There is no vocabulary
"in embryo."

Business forever as usual
in the office suite
of The Old Hotel.

[]

Have you ever seen a rock burst into flames?
Or an iron worker's tongs
rage above the pool
for cooling iron
the whole scene set
to menace conflagration?

You wear a suit
that is tougher than rain gear, I tell you.

[]

Vocabulary addles Wrench Girl.

She grasps her tongs
and whispers for Violet.

[]

But subtraction eliminates Transport.
No whispering here.

Vocabulary thinks it's The Bank.

Conflagration thinks Tongs is its Mother.

Transport suffocates in the bad heat.

Infinity is Invisible.

Tongs plucks Wrench Girl
officiously
and transports her
into a fixed tableau--
an image of a quite confined
and functional conflagration.

Her personnel are happy
to cipher Infinity
with Zeros.

She shrieks:

"Will no one wake me from Deep Storage?

I am smothered with another's vocabulary.

I am my own aberration.
I can no longer listen
to distant conflagration.

I dreamed these words:

'Being is a Black Box.'

The dried up bed of Long River
is roaring in torrents
and the Rocks are burning.

She laments:

My longing for Conflagration
flows from my infirmity.

If I'd remembered Melee,
my old jaguar jalopy,
my tongs would turn out to be blue ones
and I would understand
how to enter
Black Box.

She reflects:

My only refuge now is my vocabulary.

I want to turn into Crystal.
Shall I not find the means
in this red box?

I'll need  bellows
to fan the conflagration.

And the final means I'll need
is an African rattle.

She exults:

There'll be magic tonight at last
in the lounge of The old Hotel.

I read of this
in a red book. Give me my bugle!
Boot out mute Aberrancy!

Hekas Fracas!
Make way for Blue Tongs!

Hello, dear Violet.

All your seeds have been scattered
from where they had been stashed
between the musty pages
of my red book.

Normality be dazzled!

Here comes Wrench Boy!

Money Has An Enemy 11.2

Herr Doctor Professor Bellows
was honored by Wrench Boy, Wrench Girl--both.

This is what happened
when I was in embryo.

Something got transported
to alleviate infirmity.

Rain gear did duty for medical cloaks.

Possibilities for Being, as it were, were
stored in deep storage.

Impossible to think this aberrancy.

Deep storage to embryo--in transport.

Embryo transported:
the study and practice of Herr Bellows
on the lookout for anomalous infirmities.

In particular incipient conflagration
and its sequellae: conditions for melee.

Thus were I myself
an object of study for Wrench Boy.

If required, vocabulary would recap diagnoses.

"Transport" and "Aberration"
were no aberration,
yet Wrench Boy surreptitiously maintained
a vigil vis a vis Wrench Girl
and the woman called Melee.

[]

The president of the bank
was concerned about incipient melee,
but the latter was in the air
when Transport
affected Embryo.

No one was thinking about rocks.

If the males and females
costumed in medical rain gear
had not looked
in their red book,
the presence of Wrench Boy
would not have improved my infirmity.

[]

Hammerhead, you wafted
across the membrane
to inhabit my embryo.

Existence foundered on rocks.

Dammit, I am Hammerhead.

I have great need of conflagration. Why.
Because 'tis there!
Beyond the Ridge.

[]

Nothing can contain
the ebullience of Hammerhead.

He is my transport,
I his.

Because of conditions in embryo.

The great fluidity of all things.

Because of the ubiquity of Zero.

[]

Black Box can appear at all
only because Red Box
enjoins the enthusiasm of Hammerhead.

Tiny African Rattles
brighten the inner worlds
Black Box can entertain.

Were I not Hammerhead
what is beyond the Ridge
would register as Zero.

I am my own infirmity.

[]

The profligacy of Red Box
permits Long River--

all the permutations of Deep Storage
to seem a tumbling of rocks

on top of which fair Crystal
opens her red box

and shows herself as its mirror.

Wrench Boy faces Wrench Girl.

The dizziness of this
breaches infinity.

[]

Violet is astonished
that I appear as Hammerhead
Hammerhead as me.

She splits into ten-thousand avatars--
a vase and raceme of her
in every window of The Old Hotel.

"The Old Hotel be my refuge"
she exclaims,
"My refuge from Hammerhead."

She was with me,
tincturing my embryo.

Her vapors affected my transport.

No one cried out "Aberration!"

Just this was the vague situation: aberration indeed.

[]

Jaguar at peace in Deep Storage.

Bugle hung on its nail.

Black Box, not in use,
afforded nobody transport.

The word "tongs" transposed to "sTong-pa,"
might just as well
have been Black Box.

All things tinctured with aberrancy--
but soon reduced to Zero:
The End of Aberration
as Wrench Boy, Wrench Girl
gaze in wonder at each other

across The Mirror.

Money Has An Enemy 12.2

Long River runs through the heavens,
the life stream of every embryo.

Bellows obliterates and manifests
world upon world.

Violet sits on her ridge
absorbed with her singular infinity.

The bugle blows
far far away from the porch
of The Old Hotel.

Only Melee hears it.

Long River oblivious to bellows
nurtures a thousand violets,

bellows sucks and blows
beyond the worlds.

Violet attuned to Long River
absorbed in her infinity.

[]

Embryo waits in Deep Storage.

Crystal costumed in rain gear
must focus her aberration
some otherwhere than upon Violet.

African Rattle rattles
set to her most settled register.

Small but intricate music
spreads through The Old Hotel.

Yet aberration manifests among violets
and Melee adorns herself withal.

[]

Come out onto the rocks, dear Violet,
Violet come
and welcome Wrench Boy, Wrench Girl.

A quiet collective
forms about Melee.

[]

I am my own aberration,
quite since embryo.

My precious African Rattle
complements alterities. 

I do not regulate vocabulary
but commune with Violet and her jungle.

[]

We are all assembled
summoned by Hammerhead.

I'll pump the bellows.

Vocabulary belonging to Crystal
shall not intimidate Violet
if she but make application
of realized Zero.

[]

Come the Conflagration--
a Zero in the pocket
of every suit of rain gear;

Violates will proliferate
in the soul of Aberration;

Black Box at every doorstep;
Actually, no need for rain gear;

Embryo give birth to crystal;

Violets proliferate
in the soul of Aberration.

How handsome the Jaguar
before The Old Hotel.

How generous the bank.

[]

Infirmity works no embryo.

Embryo securely ensconced in its own soul.

Money Has An Enemy 13.2

Crystal

whatever the bellows blows
along Long River,
however the rocks
support the banks,
no matter in what manner
vocabulary can or cannot
regulate infirmity
and the intricate intimate sonorities
of African Rattle
elucidate or obscure--

Crystal elucidates Long River,
makes sheer rocks to shine,
allows Long River's petri-form embankments
to manifest as crystal
so that even the bank
whose habits of deep storage
are not illumined at all
when conflagration comes--

even the bank
that markets
inauthentic rattles
not out of Africa--

that do or do not reverberate
within the heart of Melee
or ameliorate infirmity with tongs. . .

[]

Crystal is so subtle
in her ravishing luminescence
that she anneals the lesions of infirmity,
has Hammerhead drop his hammer's head
and settle, quiet on the slabs. . .

[]

Wrench Boy's aberration may be his bugle
as he stands upon his stony pedestal
and causes Melee to arise

but Red Box instructs Conflagration
and Bellows infuses Embryo

and The Old Hotel
is itself an elastic bellows
with jaguars
passing in and out
of the maze ways
invisibly controlling
the comfortable porches.

[]

Even fake crystal
that disguises its infirmity
implicates infinity
by changing the appearance of rocks,

gives Violet her power
to garland with violets
the infirmities of Hammerhead
and to grow between the cracks
of adamant and granite.

[]

Everything is in transport--
bugle as crisp as zero

and in each crumbling horst
there shakes an African rattle,
even if it sounds like jive.

[]

The very rain gear we all wear is radiant
like the golden  dawn's own bugle--
white heat of highest zero
shouts out of the womb
of a clear blue stone.

[]

In the center of Black Box
in its darkness

the bellows draws in
World Night

but an infinitesimal crystal
glistens
as in a secret room
of The Old Hotel

Money Has An Enemy 14.2

There are also very large tongs
where Long River runs through the heavens
and crystal
flashes
from goddess to Large Glass
on the inner surface
of the cover of Red Book
and the planetarization of Jaguar avatars
takes Transport
as if to infinity
till Conflagration come.

Infinity takes shape
as crystal--

red box
a new kind of crystal.

Red Book retells
the planetarization of Tongs
and the cosmos is full of jaguars.

[]

The smaller the bugle
the more compact the infinity.

Violet wafts her scent across the melee.

This sort of infinity
binds and releases in an instant
Wrench Girl to and from Wrench Boy,

their images
in mutual conflagration.

[]

Flash! Flash! Zero!

Wrench Boy and Wrench Girl
in mutual amorous gazing--

each sees the other
across
Red Box Crystal mirror--

The Old Hotel
fills the heavens
to further amplify
the planetarization of Transport.

Violet works out a Concordat with Vocabulary,
Wrench Boy and Wrench Girl
absorbed in their strange mutuality.

Hammerhead: panic and response,
precipitous and violent. 

[]

Infinity as if obliterated,
when tongs and bellows attempt
to mollify Hammerhead.

His precipitous panic
has no pause to consider
vocabulary.

Even the desuetude of rocks
cannot retard him
or offer him chance for reflection.

In spite of his quirky energy,
his agency contrasts with Jaguar's.

For one thing he seems
not ever to have come out of embryo.

Without the condition of melee
he would be nothing but vocabulary.

Wrench Boy has the advantage in that
the planetarization of rain gear
suggests for him an alliance
with the avatars of Jaguar.

They multiply indefinitely
but definitely not
to infinity.

Perplexity about this
distorts aberration.

Infinity exaggerates the prescience
otherwise natural
to an African rattle
which has its own spate of confusions
vis a vis infinity
neither Wrench Boy nor Wrench Girl
can yet be called upon to adjudicate.

[]

Infirmity panics Hammerhead.

Infinity simply alarms him. 

The Old Hotel
in its cosmic avatar
will not even provide him with rain gear.

Infirmity will be assuaged
in the sweet healing stream of Long River.

Consider all these perspectives.
They have no difficulty
finding habitat or origin
within Black Box.

As for the Bank:
another chapter
in Red Book's pages.

Wrench Boy and Wrench Girl
relax and gather force
where Long River flows.

Money Has An Enemy 15.2

Hammerhead is ignorant
of his need for Crystal
and yet he uses tongs
to pluck things from Deep Storage.

Black Box encloses pure Being.
All manifest things and happenings
do come out of it.

All beings love violets.
All money is at home in The Bank.

When Wrench Boy and Wrench Girl
become each other in a moment
and flash beyond the world,
all the money there is
vibrates The Bank.

My tongs have access entirely to all Deep Storage.
Your tongs have access entirely to all Deep storage.

[]

I love Melee.

Our transport disturbs the coinage.

Together we feel the subtleties of Crystal
who sits beyond the worlds.

Rain gear in rainy weather
when no one has very much money,
visibly ripples with her light.

Deep Storage has no need for money.

Conflagration damages coinage.

Wrench Girl / Wrench Boy
watches.

[]

Every moment of time is an embryo.

Transport progresses down along Long River.

Long River comprises many streams,
hence the varieties of rain gear.

Deep Storage
stores all varieties
manifest, yet
also knows access
to what is
manifest    not.

Wrench Boy / Wrench Girl
sits still and watches.

[]

Penury is no aberration.
One vanishes back into embryo.

Quietly or violently
one tries to apply the tongs.

The value of violets
approaches infinity.

But if one senses Crystal,
all such formulations
recur to Black Box.

[]

One day the bellows
sucked up all the money.

All the African rattles
were silent
for a moment.

Then, in a jiffy,
they started to boogey
and struck up
extra-galactic transport.

Billions vanished in a flash
to be redistributed
in Deep Storage.

Conflagration covered the residues
including rain gear.

For a moment there was only
Black Box.

[]

Out of that
the first elements of vocabulary
transported themselves
in the form of an n-dimensional Red Box.

Red Box glows
with manifest entities
extracted in one action
from Black Box.

[]

Infinity,
the interior of Crystal,
powered the interior of Zero.

[]

Jaguar,
the Master of Deep Storage,
watches over the embryos.

Crystal, sunk deep into Being,
secretly watches
as she is watched.

[]

The Old Hotel
on the hill
is a living crystal.

[]

Infinity obviates money,
inundates rain gear,
perplexes The Bank
to the point of abject infirmity.

[]

If I had a bugle,
I'd stop kicking rocks
and merge my being with Crystal,
forget about aberration.

Thus spoke Wrench Boy.

Money Has An Enemy 16.2 (The Avatars of Ownership)

Buried in rain gear,
picked clean by tongs.

Hammerhead, the magus-priest,
on call in The Old Hotel--

weird wielder of magic hammers
hammers out zeros.

Prowling on rocks, a jaguar.

Each moment of time,
an embryo.

The jaguar
worked by Hammerhead
as he works The Old Hotel.

Hammerhead holds firm his hammer
in that resort's  Red Lounge.

Each guest to be buried in rain gear,
picked clean to zero.

[]

Misdirection of bugles
blasting in the dawn rain
while the work of tongs goes on
oblivious to incipient conflagration.

Hammerhead holds firm his hammer
at the center of his body.

He works the working
in  a red book
to arrange
The Old Hotel.

[]

Melee needs
neither tongs nor bellows
to work against this.

A scattering of vocabulary
wafts on the wind.

O Violet, take notice:
your secret scents
are on the wind.

Hammerhead, not yet distracted,
concentrates the figures
he casts
in his red book.

[]

The Bank has its own arrangement
as debt makes time.

Its tongs pick infirmities to liquidate.

How various
the uses
of Zero.

[]

The bugle fails to waken
the corpses bestrewn with violets

and Long River just rolls on.

Violet, oblivious
to her own slumber.

Infirmity of no consequence to Jaguar
who circumambulates Wrench Boy
in the Red Assembly Room
of The Old Hotel.

[]

I conjure from Black Box
the Avatars of Ownership,
one to each lifeless chamber
of The Old Hotel.

May the bellows outside of time
come to assist me
and the work of Japanese tongs

bring transport to Jaguar
and filaments of crystal

--misdirection to direct him--

Jaguar circumambulates Hammerhead
in the Red Lounge
of The Old Hotel--

a figure eight
between the chambers--

though the magus has no embryo to vex him

and The Old Hotel
is exterior to time

and luminous filaments
penetrate the sounds
of a thousand rattles out of Africa

Africa in ruins

a sacrifice
to the sound development
of a thousand aberrations--

discussion of all this over coffee

where infinity
is normalized by tongs:

all the while
things come to pass
as if plucked from Deep Storage--

an imago of Deep Storage
rises from the basement
and covers The Old Hotel--

The Old Hotel for a moment--
completely invisible.

Money Has An Enemy 17.2

Bugle blast
and hammerheads
and rain gear
in a lump
on the floor--

anyone's infirmity
treated like aberrancy

written up
in some red book.

Life itself
a Black Box.

In the dusty corner
near the fire place
where nobody builds a fire--

a broken bellows.

If it's raining,
put on rain gear.

If you have some unmanageable infirmity,
try to find the proper rain gear.

Rain gear
is no infirmity.

Bugle--
no aberrancy.

[]

A jaguar with an infirmity:
a sick cat--

has a limited vocabulary
but what power
is in those eyes!

One item of vocabulary
hammered out
by every hammerhead (respectively).

I'd trade my African rattle
for a decent pair of bellows.

[]

What a state of conflagration!

An exilarch
named Hammerhead
has come to examine The Bank.

We'll have to hide a way
our Black Box--

quickly stash within it
that statue of a jaguar,
that bronze-age figurine
of a boy
on whose forearms
we put a wrench.

[]

A Black Box
can be very useful.

You could call it a kayak
and paddle up Long River.

Images from Normal Life
that don't even seem
an aberration.

[]

The black Goddess
with four breasts,
blue crystals at the tips of her nipples.

Wrench Boy sneaks a look
from behind a rock.

He is a message
from The Bank.

This mythologem,
however she produces transport
and startles the intellect
when the intellect first encounters it--
with proper manipulation
of vocabulary
will be judged
to be an aberrancy.

[]

Everybody still likes violets.

Wrench Boy imagines their scent
when he contemplates Infinity,
confining
even the thought of Infirmity
to Deep Storage.

Infirmity doesn't fight back.

She possesses her own sort of infinity.

[]

Infirmity discusses with Melee
the antithetical condition of rocks.

Is this not a matter for Vocabulary?

Recourse to Black Box
causes the course of Long River
to exaggerate its banks
and flow
          with undulant stress
through the annals
of Red Box.

[]

For all your rocks and rain gear
and your amiable construction
of The Old Hotel

(which, like they say,
"is built on rock")--

and rain gear, by the way,
in rainy weather
is like a rock--

[]

If you cannot locate
the embryo
inside you--

zap the whole construction.
Pure aberration.

[]

You will not unsettle Zero
or extrapolate the rhythms
hidden in Black Box.

Takes Tongs for that.

Money Has An Enemy 18.2

Vocabulary's rain gear
can bugle to infinity
but all it produces
is melee.

Deep Storage
makes space
with zeros
and supplies forever
Long River.

At zero-degree,
Bugle recoups
Infinity.

Bugle celebrates
Infinity's vocabulary,
accommodates Melee.

Wrench Boy
in rain gear--

Jaguar, whose eyes
are zeros.

Black Box --
all time in embryo.

The true cost of transport:
zero.

Crystal unsullied
in the heart of Melee.

[]

Black Box exceeds
Possibility's transport.

The zeros in Jaguar's
gem-stone eyes
flash out at Violet.

She speaks
with her sweet
aromas and retreats, before so
magisterial an assault,
to a small black box
she keeps in the pocket of her rain gear.

[]

Quickly, O Africa! Rattle your rattle!
Squeeze the magic tongs!
Don't retreat to embryo--
Open up Red Box:

Out pops Jaguar!
Violets on his shoulders.
He transports aromas
to an atmosphere of melee.

[]

A mountain of hammerheads,
a valley of wrenches.

Crystal: her buttons on rain gear
glisten all the way to the bank.

Darkness in embryo.

Essence of Jaguar: see that smell?
a tincture of infinity.

Specialty shops open like poppies
all along Long River.

[]

Who will foot the bill
for a new foundation of rocks?

Business practically zero in the shops
of The Old Hotel.

Market research in embryo
unable to countenance Zero.

Infinitesimal radiance
the silence of Crystal.

[]

Weather this season
an unfortunate infirmity.

Sold nothing but poppies and rain gear.

The Avatars of Ownership
drowning in rain gear.

The cycles of market fluctuation
manipulated by abstract bellows.

[]

When business is black,
the Avatars of Ownership, in secret,
agitate for instant Conflagration.

Infinity, though beyond speculation,
more promising than stultification by Zero.

Put your money in bellows.

Infinity the limit
for the price of priceless crystals.

[]

In a dusty corner
in a musty room,

Aberration hugs Infinity to Crystal

and puts on rain gear.

Money Has An Enemy 19.2

Practice makes Transport.

The boy with the bugle
studies vocabulary
and takes a job
standing in front of the bank.

The girl with an African rattle
works The Old Hotel.

That this were an aberration
is far from the thought of Crystal.

Aberration causes vocabulary
to slip one notch.

The Exilarch in The Bank
works on his vocabulary.

The Bank neglects
practice for Transport.

African Rattles
improve how to think.

[]

Aberration expands its scope to infinity
without the application of tongs.

Deep Storage
lines Black Box
--this is no aberration--
with an ever-expandable vocabulary.

Blue magical tongs
exacerbate or ameliorate
aberration: your choice.

Long River drives through Long River
without equivocation.

Violets explode on the bank.

[]

The river bank
prepares for conflagration,

transposes rain gear
one notch
to violets.

The bugle
makes the sound
of a jaguar

and gets the attention of The Bank.

[]

The Bank is divided:

Is Hammerhead the Exilarch,
blown peremptorily hither
by an exercised Great Bellows

--sucked out of Deep Storage
without mediation of embryo,
bugled across the system,
panicking the Avatars of Ownership
to such an aberration
in general considerations
that Long River
flooded Deep Storage,
drowned out the bugle,
who returned to reexamine his vocabulary...

[]

In a few weeks or decades
the exercise of such panic
sums out to zero.

Great Bellows had nothing to do with it.

Infirmity, rather, shot through the system.

Why, indeed, Violet
is shy of The Bank.

[]

Wrench Boy's avatar
was first to panic
as he stood at his post
in front of The Bank--the bank
not "founded on Rock"

in spite of a certain jazzed-up aspiration
to appear like a crystal.

[]

Red Box liable to result in Aberration and Melee,
for Melee secretly, pervasively
enervates The Bank --

a secret known only
to  a few wily jaguars...

Money Has An Enemy 20.2 (N-Dimensional Rain Gear)

After a sufficient passage of time
Violet's vocabulary
passes all the way
to Transport;

Jaguars multiply without limit
and become the particulates
that flame Conflagration;

Infirmity transforms with such variety
that its affinity for Melee
reads as identity;

Tongs show uses on every scale,
in every context,
plucking Melee herself
from her many states of transport,

transmuting jaguars
to transports of Jaguar,

integrating Violet
with every possible degree of conflagration.

[]

This picture--plucked from Deep Storage.

Melee at the cinema,
laughs at its scope.

Infinity, a matter of gauge,
in the latest Movie Palace
along Long River.

When she cannot follow the plot
or think the thought,
Melee yawns.

Hammerhead is not so sanguine
about this performance.

An attitude, had she possessed one,
he'd have shared with Crystal.

Melee's species of transport
--the whole lot of them--
accord with a vast multiplication
of applications of tongs.

Bugles blast,
or with impeccable refinements
in their brassy vocabularies,
accord with such multiplicities
easily
also.

Hammerhead and Crystal
unaccountably seated together,
together demur.

[]

It is the matter of an N-dimensional
activity of tongs,
not multiplicity merely;
counter-posed to an N-dimensional river flux,
not merely "long." 

Our bank experiments with such dimensionalities
but in that
it finds itself
diverted from--The Bank.

The Old Hotel,
already hyper-dimensional,
diverts itself by flashing
back and forth from zero.

For a moment The Old Hotel is full of jaguars.

But Crystal has no attitude
in spite of it all.

Mundane dimensionalities
may very well divert The Bank,
but her self possession
above all multiplicity
is like a rock.

Curiosities and quibbles
over how Long River might fluctuate
in every direction at once
occupy the cogitations of Wrench Boy;

but N-dimensional rain gear
decked out to fit the inhabitants
along so extravagantly extended a river
would be a matter of standard regalia
for the guests in The Old Hotel. Aberration?
Try to imagine that:
an N-dimensional aberration!

[]

"The Earth is just a big rock,"
said Jaguar
after he'd recovered himself
and spit out the hyper-geometrical tongs
he'd bitten off
with solid geometrical jowls.

[]

Black Box
might actually closet
every attitude. 

One for each jaguar.

Zero to recover what
the pages of Red Book
opined
page by page:

indeed it was just that
that quelled the Jaguar
and allowed his unruly avatars
to recover themselves.

[]

Peace be upon the world
if and only if
Black Box
and its vocabulary
flow like a singularly intricate and long
Long River,
its many-dimensional experiment
perfectly virtual,
calmed in the end, if not quelled,
by the presence of Crystal.

[]

It was The Great Bellows,
or might as well have been,
in The Tower Suite
of The Old Hotel
that stupefied Hammerhead utterly
with the thought that he might align himself with Crystal
by dimensionalizing Long River--
that is, by putting himself
squarely in opposition
to that operation;

but it was Melee--the Exhalation
to one Great Inhalation--
who, as extravagant witness--
threw a percipient rock
at his Magus-ship's prepossession.

[]

It requires an embryo
to grow vocabulary
and Hammerhead
only gives birth to rocks.

He has a limited knowledge of Black Box.

And African Rattles
exchange their musics with Jaguar's

while Hammerhead--High Priest Magus--
putzes around with Vocabulary.

Money Has An Enemy 21.2

Ride a rock for Transport.

Violet knows how to grow silent.

If this universe seem a black box
then Being itself lies under occultation.

Wrench Boy / Wrench Girl--
habitués of infinities.

African Rattle
grows out of silence.

Hammerhead, Hammerhead,
you cannot hide
behind an African Rattle:

Violet is everywhere.
Her silence is like
a Black Box.

Violet vibrates
in that sweet solicitude
for everything.

Black Box, Being herself,
hides
in a rock.

Wrench Boy / Wrench Girl--
where are you
hiding?

Melee says
Red Book
contrives you.

African Rattle, intimate and subtle.
How can that be?

Aberration--no explanation.

Deep Storage is an Old Garage.

Melee's rigorous transport
has her eye on Embryo.

[]

It was Blue Tongs
that, set to a subtle vibration,
occasioned hieratic garb
--ceremonial rain gear.

Skew The Blue
and African Rattle
articulates Violet.

Hammerhead grows subtle
beneath a skewed vocabulary
and toys with his own sort of transport.

I myself don ceremonial rain gear
and apply for the use of Blue Tongs.

[]

I step back a bit
and always see Melee.

Red Book is there to be
intimately perused
when one's own spirit
cannot intuit Crystal
and Being's Black Box
is so remote
that various extenuations of tongs
seem requisite
for any access to Transport.

I thought of violets
growing on the banks.

Then I thought of Hammerhead.

[]

I myself
intend a proper use
of notions of infinity.

This quite does away
with absolute infirmity
without compromising Zero
as Black Box.

Rather, once again,
I think of Hammerhead.

[]

I would not bugle Crystal.

Only Infirmity
produces tongs for that.

Rather I elevate
Black Box.

[]

I put aside
all thought of Conflagration.

I Black Box
all but ceremonial rain gear.

I must construct my transport
ignoring Cosmic Bellows,
that consciousness of Infirmity
seem remediable by tongs. 

All this I herein confess
to be my own infirmity.

For Violet beyond me
knows tinctures outside of this world.

Jaguar proliferates his avatars:
this is not his infirmity.

O Violet--
Infirmity for you
is safe from the application of tongs.

Flash! Flash! Vivid Flash--

in an instant

Wrench Boy is Wrench Girl.

[]

Long River
washes away
its own infirmity.

Long River
in many dimensions

reads Infirmity as
an extenuation of Zero.

Money Has An Enemy 22.2  (Theories of Poetry)

Red Book requires
a theory of poetry,
a garland of violets
to decorate The Rock,
an extenuation of Zero
as if every embryo
had a lien on The Bank
and Conflagration
reversed a portent
hidden by rain gear--
Conflagration
an exaggeration
over rocks:

Zero celebrates Rock Day
so that Zero and Rock together
provide a theory of poetry for Red Book
at least in embryo.

[]

When Melee was asked
for her contribution
to the theory of poetry,
she consulted Violet
who knew all about
decorating rocks.

"Poetry is a Black Box,"
she opined
and went off
with a gesture
to attend a local conflagration.

[]

When Jaguar was interrogated,
he kept silent--and his silence
is a bugle
still.

He had not too long before
stepped right out
of a world-wide conflagration
and had had enough of cerebrating
under the figure of Hammerhead.

[]

For a hundred years
Infinity had limited
poetry.

After the smoke cleared,
still there was Violet
hanging about
on the rocks. 

[]

"The theory of poetry requires me,"
pontificated Crystal,
"not the other way on"
implying Infinity
had already
been surpassed
by her intimate association with Violet.

[]

She continued:

"The Theory of Poetry
reverses Deep Storage."

[]

"Theory is as Zero!

I am Hammerhead!"

Another county heard from.

[]

And:

"The Theory of Poetry
qualifies transport.

(Or is it the other way on?)"

"I won't touch that,"
said Violet.

"It is enough
to qualify rock."

[]

Theoretical hammerheads instantly
replicate to Infinity.

Black Box glows.

Delicate  mental web-work
inverts Infinity.

Melee versifies
the gesture of Conflagration.

[]

"I am Hammerhead,"
somebody expostulated.

"I militate against Zero.
You (and as such) are Aberration."

[]

An African Rattle
is a kind of poetry
that abrogates theory.

No it doesn't.

Deep Storage
finds every site of Conflagration
for Melee
who rushes her research through
in The Old Hotel.

There were African Rattles a-plenty.

Violet became quite engrossed
with Cosmic Bellows.

[]

The Theory of Poetry
confuses Vocabulary
and had better abrogate in principle
the use and abuse of tongs.

Otherwise: Infinity.

[]

Hammerhead takes theory
on his own terms
and, as has been his wont, won't compose
with Zero.

[]

Theoretical infirmity
appeals to the song of Long River,
chaunted all night by Wrench Boy.

Money Has An Enemy 23.2

...at the lip
of a trough.

And at the bottom--
a Rock--
according to Red Book--

Aberration
crazed its surface.

In a hollow
at its core
a frozen bellows.

Jaguar is Wrench Boy.

He sat
at the lip
of the trough

in the silent stillness
of his intelligence,

at his hip
the bugle.

Frozen Wrench Boy
according to Red Book--

an aberration
in Red Book--

an aberration
that Deep Storage
seize up
and freeze the bellows.

[]

O African Rattle--
restore the heat
to some vocabulary
of Wrench Boy--

Qualify an embryo
with your kind of aberration.

Open a channel to Melee.

[]

Transport
for Hammerhead
is permafrost.

It scatters
the intelligence
of Wrench Boy.

It focuses
The Old Hotel
so it works
like a bank.

Absolute Zero
unpumps Bellows.

[]

Conflagration,
where are you now?

In the triple basement
of The Old Hotel.

The Rock
at The Lip.

Cold Crystal.

Silent Bugle.

[]

The Jaguar
circumambulates
The Rock.

He has no need of rain gear.

His essential caloric melts down
aberrational superfices
but does not quite release The Old Hotel.

[]

Cyclic crises
to infinity
awaken caloric
in Wrench Boy.

He can explore totalities--
the sumptuous hot interiors of Black Box.

At the center
rich blackness.

Silent, intelligent,
Hammerhead.

Wrench Boy compels the crisis,
unfunds Vocabulary.

[]

Violet grows in the night that devours the darkness,
oblique to every aberration
and has, though forever vexed,
dissolved Vocabulary in Deep Storage.

Her aura settles Wrench Boy and his transform.

Zero has her own vocabulary.

It is like a rock.

Its bugle gathers rain gear.

[]

Frozen tongs
invest in Aberration.

Dimensionless, frozen mostly, Long River
nevertheless leads long to Melee.

She suffuses space
with an oblique vocabulary.

In the center of The Rock
an African Rattle.

This further turns the Cycle of Infirmity--

but not yet.

Money Has An Enemy 24.2

The Old Hotel
in cold hell.

The Red Book
turns white--

then ashen,
then no color at all.

In Deep Storage
nothing alters.

Melee barely stirs.

Long River's superfluids
climb the walls.

The future
is a Black Box.

Embryos shrink and shrivel.

Vocabulary maps onto one word: "Embryo,"
and that
in Deep Storage
Melee stirs
but barely.

A furnace
in Deep Storage
three sub-basements down below
The Old Hotel--

Long River's hidden sources.

[]

Money has an enemy,
but Money slumbers.

Vocabulary fails me.

Rain gear cannot gear
down
enough.

I need a rock
whose recondite interior
is a silence so deep
it bottoms out and opens onto Melee.

Let this be my Transport
where Aberration's infirmity
generates ceremonial rain gear,
where Jaguar prowls again
and Africa issues magic drums and rattles.

[]

The silence of Conflagration
defines our infirmity.

A Jaguar sleeps in every frigid nook
of The Old Hotel.

Wrench Boy and Wrench Girl
inhabit disparate vocabularies.

Even Bugle blows "Black Box"
though he blows for Melee.

Yes, there are tongs
even for this
and therefore living Embryo.

Infirmity cannot remain
Infirmity forever. 

Time has not been vanquished
from vocabulary.

[]

Hammerhead is locked
inside his unacknowledged embryo,
and yet in the recondite blackness of Deep Storage,
invisible violets proliferate
in the pockets of frozen rain gear.

Mighty Jaguar rumbles in his slumber.

Certain items of vocabulary
vex Black Box.

Melee dreams
of an African Rattle.

Hammerhead dreams of Melee.

Cold Crystal
watches.

[]

In my bank
money is an embryo.

Start-up funds,
of course, begin at zero.

You need a new sombrero,
but they give you rain gear.

It is not the thing
to be an embryo,
yet Transport must start somewhere.

[]

Infirmity--as good a place as any.

A dried rose
in a red book.

Conflagration
starts with a spark.

Infinity eventually follows:

Hallelujah! :  Melee!

Yowee Zowee! : African Rattle!

[]

Bellows pops
out of its red box.

Blue tongs pinch, then pluck.

And Melee instigates Melee.

Money Has An Enemy 25.2

An ancient infirmity
surfaced unsolicited
out of Deep Storage
and took a room
in The Old hotel.

The African Rattle
neither waited
nor acted.

Crystal was poised as a star
above The Tower.

Zero enclosed the entire encryption. 

Bellows'  blow-suck-swoosh
compelled the shape of circumspection.

She had been reinstated and transported
to the ancient function Bellows had
in a central suite
no guest had ever occupied
above the Red Assembly
in The Old Hotel.

That African Rattle sounds
were rumored to embody
messages
whose decryption required
a certain term of residency
in The Old Hotel

was itself a message
African Rattle transmitted
malgre Ancient Infirmity.

Filaments of crystal flashed the news.

[]

On the passage up from abject debility
as well as on the logical
                             decline down to same,
Infirmity shakes
an African Rattle.

[]

There are innumerable species of Transport,
some the mere effulgence of debility;
in others Transport solves
conditions Bellows blows--

suck-swoosh irregularities
corrected by Aberrancy.

In others still,
African Rattle encodes
transmission to Transport.

[]

A certain sociality obtains
'twixt Violet
and African Rattle
that is less like a rock
than mutual response
to the call of a bugle.

[]

As if on the lip of a gorge,
those who would make inquiry of Black Box
must take up residency.

This depicts
the certain sociality that obtains
'twixt Violet and the Rattle out of Africa.

To complete the decryption: an inquiry
poised on the very ridge of Conflagration.

[]

The Next World in embryo
plants dreams of Infinity
among the coded indices
deep in storage,

to which Hammerhead
obstructs passage
and holds the key,
in that way
enervating Transport:

burrow or fly as one might,
the message remains undecoded.

[]

And yet the true encryption of Black Box
has no key.

All the rooms in The Old Hotel
are locked without refuge.

Melee laughs at the operancy of such secrecy.

It is access to Black Box
or else merely--Apparency.

The Old Hotel itself--Black Box Itself.

The key to the vocabulary for which:

one cypher; that is, one key;
that is, one word--

to every chamber--

entrusted only to Crystal.

[]

Wrench Boy offers a supplement:
for every word one jaguar.
Otherwise you lock The Bank.

Red Box supports innumerable sports of ontology.

To every being, her own rain gear.

In the World To Come
all the tongs are blue ones.

[]

Up the Hill from Long River:

Stand alone in The Tower beneath The Star.

Money Has An Enemy 26.2

Infinity coats The Old Hotel
with a volatile infirmity.

Ho hum. It's conflagration.
Call in the Tongs.

Bother. 

I am my own aberration.

The Last Long River
lasts long.

Old Lady Violet
just keeps
being new all over,

while Old Man Long River
abides each new conflagration.

Conflagration cannot put
Infirmity to rest.

Renewal itself--
what "Conflagration"
is so often coded for.

Oblivious Infinity
commutes with too many tongs.

[]

For every room in it,
a possible Old Hotel.

Just ask Bellows.

Every bank
has all the money.

What happens when my Balance is Zero?

Blow the Bugle.

My Zero might be that key
to The Old Hotel.

Vocabulary, the Ghost of Money
(Ghost or Zygote, really)
whose enemy is Violet.

[]

Crystal, of course, so easily propagates avatars.

Consider "The Light
of a Rhodochrosite."

Untrammeled by tongs.

What irks our Melee
is an Old Hotel
elegant but tone deaf
without an avatar

dastardly impeding transport.

In that case, shit,
just bring on Conflagration.

[]

High above the flames
a jazzy double imago:

Wrench Boy / Wrench Girl.

Conflagration runs along Long River
trailing flames behind her.

In the opposite hands of each imago--
African Rattles.

[]

My Discourse on a Black Box:

"The womb of nature and perhaps her grave."

Perhaps indeed.

In any case, the approachable but unreachable
head waters of Long River.

Though Crystal so elegantly bespeaks this,
beware of Crystal.

Carefully slip in tongs
and watch them disappear.

Carefully draw them out--
now they are blue ones.

Consider the safety
offered by Rain Gear.

This is not unlike
the refuge afforded by Rock.

Not much use
in the midst of Conflagration.

Better trust to your own infirmity.

Consider it in the light of embryo
rather than aberration.

Trust Bellows
if only because she operates
both fore and aft
every conflagration.

Observe her intimacy with Deep Storage
but not in prejudice
against Long River.

Around it circulates
a jungle full of jaguars

and the ever-blooming ubiquity of Violet.

It fulgurates vocabularies
of all languages not-yet.

Again observe the Operatrix that is Bellows.

It is no stranger to zeros
and mocks itself and amuses itself
and with consummate gravitas
unveils itself
in the volatile signatures and pages
of Red Book.

It also excuses itself
from every vocabulary,

takes each special thralldom
down to Zero--
the radical, if momentary,
release that it offers as Transport.

Its use is tongs.

If it need some habitation--
Old Hotel.

Its motherly memory--
Deep Storage.

Between its vast and miniscule temporal epochs--
inundation / conflagration.

Against much complication, proliferation, mere prolixity--
the enormous versatility of Zero.

If it require an adversary:

I think of Hammerhead.
MONEY HAS AN ENEMY RING 2

Money Has An Enemy  1.2

We know where we have been:
a world enclosed in a bank.

Infirmity, pervasive;

Infinity, internal only,
occult, a work
for Wrench Boy.

Encounter, counter, Hammerhead.

Develop the sexuality of Melee.

Find crystal wherever possible.

Work out the symbolism of rocks.

Crystal, your loveliness--pervasive:
an infinity enclosed in stone,
a lure for Wrench Boy.

Infinitesimal infinity,
a method by which Wrench Boy
works the bank
and counters Hammerhead.

[]

The bugle, an instrument by which
alerts are propounded
and suffered
by Wrench Boy
but also by others.

Infinity blows the bellows.

Apocalyptic attitudes tincture Melee.

The conduct of life--Long River.

Infirmity worked with, affirmed
but not by Hammerhead.

[]

On the hill top
an old hotel.

In each room
a red book or red box.

The guests have various infirmities.

The Old Hotel will triumph and glow,
its infirmity the instrument of Transport.

Infinity no more exigent than embryo.

Wrench Boy, the custodian of Embryo,
though the quality of his jazzed up imperium
sometimes seem like a zoo.

Enter Jaguar:

Custodian and exaltation of Aberration,
such that the event of conflagration
become the instrument of Wrench boy.

Every term to be treated as a rock,
even if Wrench Boy is distracted by Rain Gear.

Eventually we shall enter
transports of crystal.

Ten-thousand jaguars
surround Aberration.

Violet will never submit
to the advances of Hammerhead.

[]

Being itself an appearance of Zero
whose ornament is crystal.

Tongs work the flames
inside and out
and tongs select the terms--
interact with Deep Storage
to transport the packages of crystal.

Ten-thousand jaguars
extenuate a single aberration.

Violet turns usefully violent
and extenuates Hammerhead.

[]

Old Hotel--
whose fixtures are crystal.

Being itself--Black Box.

Crystal, a gender affinitant for African Rattle.

Wrench Boy
perfected
by Vocabulary.

Aberration and Infirmity
ride on the back of  a jaguar.

Wrench Boy has all the money,
which vanishes utterly, replaced
by a meadow of violets.

Money Has An Enemy 2.2

The sentinel Jaguar was possessed of circumspection
that stretched to infinity.

The Bank had wished to employ him
from the time he was in embryo.

It made no sense to them
that he should be "pedaling rain gear"
or that the African rattle
he picked with strange blue tongs
out of a little red box
should supplement those tongs
as if they were magical weapons--
should sound with such an uncanny, inappropriate uproar
as to disrupt the business of the bank.

It was in fact in  embryo
the violence to finish The Bank--
in embryo the ascendancy of Jaguar
in spite of his rain gear.

[]

Crystal lives in the mountains.
Her mind is tranquil, her spirit clear.

Even her thoughts are made out of light.

When she speaks, the stones listen.

When she sits in meditation,
the many streams of the mountains
sparkle and run clear.

Tongs are not in her picture.

The Bank ignores her.

Zero itself is the source of her tranquility.

[]

The Red Box
was hidden among rocks
as if in Deep Storage.

The little blue tongs were magical weapons indeed.
The Bank could make nothing of them.
Not even that they might stimulate
conflagration in embryo.

[]

The jaguar guided the tongs,
played dumb about conflagration,
pretended to protect against melee,
was a secret harmonic of Long River.

Enough about "tongs."
You do not use them
to extract things from Black Box and its fecund vocabulary.
You hold such matters quietly in embryo.

Enough about tongs.

Infirmity, interpreted, works well with Infinity.

The Bank keeps its own "red box."

[]

Down the hill from The Old Hotel,
I found fair Violet in an indigo shadow.

Melee entirely in embryo.

Nothing to vex with rocks
or abuse a default Black Box
as if it were the kind of zero
that only manufactures rain gear.

[]

Innocent Transport in embryo--
nothing to bugle.

Hammerhead on the lookout,
his latter-day virulence in embryo.

Deep Storage, a recess
concealing Infinity.

[]

The gods worked the bellows,
nourished everything in embryo--
even Wrench boy.

This was "the time of the gods." A thing of Egypt.

The gods worked the tongs.

Crystal herself a kind of Black Box.

If you looked out at the manifest universe,
you only saw rocks.

Money Has an Enemy 3.2

Now it becomes possible
to take a look
inside Black Box.

One does not see the bank.

FLASH! and the gem stone
eyes of the jaguar!

SWOOSH! and the bellows closes,
blows the bugle.

Instantaneous conflagration
sweeps across space
revealing Hammerhead.

FLASH AGAIN! Deep Storage now.

Solemn Hammerhead
standing still and silent.

The jaguar in solemn motion
watching,  prowling.

The bellows opens, the atmosphere, the flames,
the smoke and strangeness
sucked up inside it.

No jaguar now.
No further suck of bellows.

The Black Box housed a holy space inside it.

A blast of bugle suppressed it.

[]

Change of scene. The inside of an embryo:
condition zero.

Hammerhead in imago
seeks to suck his way
inside its metabolic corridors.

The walls of the thing segmented
to facilitate deep storage.

Hidden throbbing life.
Then heat.
Incipient conflagration.

[]

Not yet time for melee.
Dark and solemn precincts.

Hammerhead: center rear.

Front and center: Wrench Boy.

The walls are built with rocks.

[]

Now Hammerhead
concentrates
to rule The Old Hotel.

His hammers
bang after tongs
pick toiling rocks.

African rattle
jazzing it
in the "Old Zero Lounge."

The walls papered red,
the carpets also,
the lounge is like a brilliant red interior
of a red box.

[]

Transport, yes,
but a certain nervous agitation
blocks it.

African Rattle echoes in Red Box.
Echoes and shadows and flashes
of a distant conflagration.

[]

The locked bank
conceals its zeros.

It cannot find its place along Long River.

"The Men in Rain Gear"
provide themselves with bellows
to pump the flames
around The Old Hotel
and pack the Bank.

[]

Infinity seeks to strike a deal
with a darkly quivering Hammerhead
who wants to X-out Crystal
and cure her strangely fetching
sense of aberration.

Infirmity thus circulates
between the rocks
and the deeper instantaneous venues
that for an instant flash on holy spaces:

an enormous pillar-tall African rattle, front left, tall like a pillar;
an enormous column of violets, front right.

[]

Now deploy the bellows
to calm The Old Hotel:

the African rattle trained to a solemn rhythm;
Conflagration tuned to a solemn rhythm.

Wrench Boy, a magical being,
front and center.

Money Has An Enemy 4.2

Zero: the diadem on the jaguar's brow
poised before Black Box, his skrying stone.

The session today?
Here's what he saw:

Long River runs through
its own vocabulary: each word
its special thralldom.

[]

Wrench Boy is Wrench Girl.

[]

We weather rain gear,
watch lights flicker in the windows
at every chamber of The Old Hotel.

The sounds of Long River
surround Black Box.

An efflux of zeros
conditions Vocabulary,

each word
its own special thralldom.

"Aberration": an aberration
which does not switch light in crystal.

The jaguar sees her
in his skrying stone,
unweathers thralldom with zeros.

[]

What does Long River know?
The inner work of the bellows.

What does Bellows blow?
Aberration and its terminus.

Where is such knowledge kept?
On the silent pages of Red Book.

Fair cause for Transport.

[]

When Bellows blows,
a world appears.

When Bellows takes a breath--
World Night.

Aberration sponsor Conflagration?
Apply the tongs.

Melee mix her being with Long River?
Usher in an epoch
of transverse Infirmity.

[]

Hammerhead, Master of Aberration,
sets his eye on Jaguar's ascendancy
and thinks to put to use
his fascination, unrequited, with fair Violet.

Worldless, he sneaks at night
crazed with quasi-ecstasy,
through the halls of The Old Hotel.

He wants to assume her mind.

African Rattle cannot protect her now,
being asleep in the second chamber.

Sleep does not recur to Embryo.
She might just disguise herself in fashionable rain gear.

She draws upon the forces of Long River
and grows along its banks.

Jaguar enters his skrying stone
and prowls where she springs.

The two together contemplate fiery tongs
and identify mentally with Wrench Girl.

The use of tiny tongs can focus the mind,
Infirmity no distractor.

Truly, no need for rain gear.
No call for Bugle.

Long River runs through this cosmos,
the secret heart of Crystal,
Infinity distributed evenly
through all its things and spaces.

We read of this if we must in our Red Book
on a weather-beaten rocker
taking off our rain gear,
the porch of The  Old Hotel weather enough,
as we listen for the distant conflagration.

[]

It seems but infirmity
to wait for conflagration.

We do not, in this position,
put our trust in Rock.

Long River, strong and wild,
can surely brook very well
anyone's infirmity.

Money Has An Enemy 5.2

Aberration is no Black Box,
no sport of Zero.

An accident of Crystal,
a spur to lust for Transport.

The active torque in embryo.

We blow the bugle,
open inquiry into its juncture with infirmity.

The bugle will not tell
what Zero rules of Crystal.

Zero rules "The Quotient."
This is a mystery of Crystal.

There is no aberration
that rules out Transport.

[]

Bank must rule Deep Storage
and imprint upon an interior of Black Box
its power to control The Old Hotel and its lounges
with an effigy of Wrench Girl,
remove from every hyper-dimensional Crystal
her distribution of deep zero;
in short to turn out the light
in The Old Hotel.

Set Rule
to Rule.

[]

Rain Gear has been elaborated
to block Melee.

Every bugle neutralized.
A wizened Hammerhead
has his sabbatical
to study African Rattle.

They do not produce
intro-invertible rain gear.

Black Box is not invertible.

The skrying function ignored
goes black,
though Violet The Violent
is forced by fiduciary authority
to vanish away on furlough.

[]

Conflagration--reduced to the hypothetical.

Uncompellable residues,
ubiquitous throughout Deep Storage,
are factored therefrom
so random elements
seem reduced to zero.

Only Hammerhead,
serious wizzard now,
retains some clarity
pertaining to Deep Storage--
that its capacity is infinity.

Yet he vacillates twixt wishing to
hammer out fair Crystal
and utterly possess her
by becoming her.

He alone keeps an eye on the tongs.

But Crystal knows secret recesses--
--invisible crystal--
and hides her being
inside the eyes of the jaguar.

[]

Here is an indexical application
of the wall of rocks:
one to each thing in being and the word that compels it.

Wrench Girl herself walled in
by a thralldom of words,
nevertheless gets to work on her vocabulary.

Vocabulary--no bugle, no infirmity.

They neglect to keep her from the tongs.

Thus Wrench Girl habituates Zero,
accumulates Red Box--Wrench Girl
costumed by Infirmity--Wrench Girl
commoded in rain gear--

works out her affinity with Melee,
her fascination fascinates Crystal.

[]

Flip infirmity.

The Old Hotel--
almost Black Box--
does not abuse Infinity.

[]

Pull that bugle
off from its nail.

Pump, swoosh,  and suck
ontology out of Bellows...

Money Has An Enemy 6.2

I've had enough of Melee.

Even she begins to think about Zero
as a kind of aberration.

She picks up tongs
and wants to talk to Violet.

She manipulates the bellows
and starts to manage vocabulary.

Infinity: of questionable vocabulary.
Aberration: best to correct it with tongs.

Nothing happy in the quest for Aberration.

Nothing thaumaturgical, necessarily,
that can't be demystified by tongs.

O Melee--
lets both go talk to violets.

[]

Deep Storage is shocked to hear all this.
He coils to protect his embryos.

Zero, of course, remains stable--
quietly sustaining the threat.

African rattle
shakes above its handle.

Tongs is interested
regarding this new deployment.

But even I myself
am concerned about sudden infirmity.

Black Box will adequately nourish every embryo.
I myself will take care of rain gear.

And I myself still listen
for distant conflagration.

No one can successfully
abrogate infinity.

So: come let us take out rooms in the Old Hotel
and consult, as if the judgment of our mind
the skrying stone of Being that is Black Box.

Acknowledge infirmity.
Awaken Zero.
Attend to Aberration
as among the deep deliverances of Long River
whose source and ambience is infinity forever.

[]

Enter: Wrench Girl.

Alone in the lounge of The Old Hotel.

Hammerhead had become me.

Long River flows without the use of tongs.

It is not possible, O Melee,
for you to put
tongs to Aberration and by such means
make strong our mutual infirmity.

Crystal glistens as she listens to African Rattle.

Zero the perpetual resolution
of confinement to Red Box.

Dissolve all attachments in infinity.

[]

The Bank recurs
by an ambiguous deployment of tongs
and the subtle wizzardry of Hammerhead.

Should I hereby blow the bugle
to honor Zero?
Refuse to founder on the stability of Rocks?

Red Box, a mare's nest of attachments--
to be trapped in one's embryo
and forced to seek transport to transport.

Vocabulary, in and out of the bank.

Hammerhead in his queer element,
perpetually nails down the coffin lid,
watches from the corner of his eye
fleeting windblown violets.

[]

Had Jaguar been more attentive
to events in The Old Hotel,
tongs would never have ceased being magical tongs
and picked clean The Bank.

Money Has An Enemy 7.2

Someone stole the African Rattle.

Did they think its music, aberration?

Corruption
of social order
tending toward Melee?

Was it Hammerhead?

Did they want to base the world
on Rock?

Long River, Transport
versus
the cosmos as Bank.

Transport specie only.

But Melee knows a secret about Hammerhead.
Melee witnessed Hammerhead
crazy waving skyward African Rattle
out at night
smashing his hammers
on rocks.

Transport in that sense
proves quite universal,
tongs, magical,
Jaguars, capable
of pumping bellows,
blowing bugles.

For transport--Melee--completely
acceptable.

[]

There was a proliferation of jaguars.

These dissolved in a state of transport--ecstasy--
each distinct entity
dissolved in infinity,
infinity
configured conflagration.

[]

I myself have assumed
identity as Hammerhead.

He slipped in to my self
when I was an embryo, remember?

I transported surreptitiously
through the zygote crystal,
by-passed infirmity,
took transport
for my jaguar.

It has nothing to do with violets or violence,
does not require existence
to ride the rocks.

In spite of the myth about this
I do not have it in for Crystal
or her specific sort of aberration.

I have no truck with infinity,

I am Hammerhead.

I drive my own jaguar,
am my own aberration,
blow my own bugle.

We'll see about Wrench Girl.

I do what I please with the Bank.

I never wear rain gear
but leave that for Jaguar.

I do not quip about bellows.

In spite of the rumor
I do not take out rooms
in The Old Hotel.

Dammit, I am Hammerhead!

[]

As for that exaggeration they call Black Box,
it seems like everyone's infirmity.

I'll use the bellows to dispel that.
Likewise Zero.

Given an adequate vocabulary
it is no aberration
to put it all in a red box--
this should be deep enough
for any need that I will have for storage.

Enough about bellows.

I have no truck with infinity.

There's no such thing as Long River.

Money Has An Enemy 8.2

The Great Conflagration
and its consequent melee--

its sound like ten-thousand African rattles--

the run on the market for rain gear,

the historical records
contained in Red Box--

was, 

for Crystal,
and Violet also,

an occasion for the recrudescence of innocence--

And the jaguars
planted violets

and all the survivors
had African rattles--

rain gear
was once again
brain gear--

what joy to shake the rattles from Africa
in America, the Mother
of Rain Gear--

Conflagration, the great event--
emancipation at last--

all this told and foretold, retold
on the pages of a book
stored in Red Box.

[]

Vocabulary, both magical and otherwise--
involves a principle of Melee:

The antagonists of African rattles
all eaten by jaguars.

The transformation of rain gear
through the scrub-brush heroics of pure zero
provided the pockets
of each set of rain gear
with a rattle from Africa.

[]

For the time being, each word
blossomed its sweet special thralldom.

The continent of Europe: A Bank.
America: A Prophecy
of Transport. Its mountains
indigo shadows,
its meadows of violets.

African rattles burst open,
the seeds scatter everywhere.

Africa in ruins.

Everywhere, the sign of
emancipation at last--
a frantic activity in embryo.

[]

I was administered tincture
under the signature of violet,
when Hammerhead had me, utterly--

My only recourse was to enter Black Box.

I discovered the heart of Long River
and a more circumspect vocabulary

in the shadows of indigo, sweet violets.

[]

The Bank and its indices
increasingly everywhere, not loved,
in spite of the inevitable eclipse of Europe.

The Black Box an appearance of Being;
Asia: the promise of Crystal.

[]

Violet, indefensible, undefended, waxes prodigious:
a project for Wrench Girl.

Wrench Girl equipped and acquainted
with innumerable small blue tongs,
prepares for negotiations with Melee.

[]

It was during the Great Conflagration
that I had that flap with possession,
but who am I to say it's over now?

Hammerhead, where are you headed?

To conflate your being with Wrench Girl?
entangle with violets?
become Aberration?

Will Wrench Girl reach Melee before that?

The two will not strengthen infirmity
even with transmuted rain gear.
No bugle yet.

[]

We all assemble again
in the red lounge of The Old Hotel.

All but Violet.

She sits on a ridge without rain gear.

She keeps a set of bellows
inactive close beside her.

A modest raceme of violets in every window.

All Rocks remain as they are.

The Earth: just a big rock.

Money Has An Enemy 9.2

Wrench Girl gives her analysis
of African Rattle.

Its forces arise in The Great Conflagration.

Its function is like a bugle:
to awaken our forces
out of Deep Storage.

She conducts her researches
with little blue tongs
among words plucked like rocks
when she opens Black Box.

The rocks, she recapitulates,
are empty of substance
save for confined conflagration.

Blow a bugle for that:
to confine conflagration--
a bugle for Wrench Girl
and her assiduous research
in Deep Storage.

[]

She sits enthroned
beyond Infirmity
on a basis whose arithmetic
is metaphysically like zero.

Her bugle need not blow.

She confines conflagration
to an instrument for transport.

She knows very well
how to pluck and unpluck with tongs.

For the time being she entrusts
Hammerhead, enfeebled,
to a cosmic enhancement of crystal,
whose arrangements of structured nodes
makes use of numerous zeros.

Time itself--this time--
just like an embryo.

[]

Melee haunts the outskirts.
No messages for embryo.

For the time being
we just put cash in the bank.

Equilibrium requires no transport.

Bellows as synthetic as breath.

The bugle hangs on its nail.

Vocabulary vexes nobody.

[]

Tongs in times of tranquility.

Rocks but the walls of a bank.

Conflagration--a dream about jaguars.

Black Box -- a Black Box.

O that ancient bugle,
dig its fascinating insignia.

Intensity of interest:
of interest as pure aberration.

Generosity, with furtive glances,
inhabits the bank.

Not many have dreams about Crystal.

Not many discuss the embryo
and its intimate structures like crystal.

Violets grow in the grass

but Crystal begins to grow restive
and banks upon Melee.

[]

You cannot, however, abrogate infinity forever
or finally silence jazz and the dance of the bugle.

The Old Hotel
decays on the hill.

The bugle dreams
of an ever-expandable vocabulary.

Someone discovers
an actual African Rattle
stashed in a pocket of her rain gear.

Someone hears Long River
running over the rocks.

Someone takes the Red Book
out of its Red Box. 

Money Has An Enemy 10.2

"Normal Life"

comprehends the embryo,
has an intelligent attitude toward
Events of Conflagration.

They should be of small concern
to the woman who occupies
the office that is "Wrench Girl."

She manages Vocabulary.

Lights go off and on
in the windows of The Red Hotel.

Hammerhead also manages.

Ten thousand ordinary items
ordered in red boxes.
That's his office.

Ordinary Zero--the concept of it--
holds blank places.

No moods or mysteries,
no metaphysical fracas,
no special thrill
for Wrench Girl.

Everybody's vocabulary
the business of this Wrench Girl.

There is no vocabulary
"in embryo."

Business forever as usual
in the office suite
of The Old Hotel.

[]

Have you ever seen a rock burst into flames?
Or an iron worker's tongs
rage above the pool
for cooling iron
the whole scene set
to menace conflagration?

You wear a suit
that is tougher than rain gear, I tell you.

[]

Vocabulary addles Wrench Girl.

She grasps her tongs
and whispers for Violet.

[]

But subtraction eliminates Transport.
No whispering here.

Vocabulary thinks it's The Bank.

Conflagration thinks Tongs is its Mother.

Transport suffocates in the bad heat.

Infinity is Invisible.

Tongs plucks Wrench Girl
officiously
and transports her
into a fixed tableau--
an image of a quite confined
and functional conflagration.

Her personnel are happy
to cipher Infinity
with Zeros.

She shrieks:

"Will no one wake me from Deep Storage?

I am smothered with another's vocabulary.

I am my own aberration.
I can no longer listen
to distant conflagration.

I dreamed these words:

'Being is a Black Box.'

The dried up bed of Long River
is roaring in torrents
and the Rocks are burning.

She laments:

My longing for Conflagration
flows from my infirmity.

If I'd remembered Melee,
my old jaguar jalopy,
my tongs would turn out to be blue ones
and I would understand
how to enter
Black Box.

She reflects:

My only refuge now is my vocabulary.

I want to turn into Crystal.
Shall I not find the means
in this red box?

I'll need  bellows
to fan the conflagration.

And the final means I'll need
is an African rattle.

She exults:

There'll be magic tonight at last
in the lounge of The old Hotel.

I read of this
in a red book. Give me my bugle!
Boot out mute Aberrancy!

Hekas Fracas!
Make way for Blue Tongs!

Hello, dear Violet.

All your seeds have been scattered
from where they had been stashed
between the musty pages
of my red book.

Normality be dazzled!

Here comes Wrench Boy!

Money Has An Enemy 11.2

Herr Doctor Professor Bellows
was honored by Wrench Boy, Wrench Girl--both.

This is what happened
when I was in embryo.

Something got transported
to alleviate infirmity.

Rain gear did duty for medical cloaks.

Possibilities for Being, as it were, were
stored in deep storage.

Impossible to think this aberrancy.

Deep storage to embryo--in transport.

Embryo transported:
the study and practice of Herr Bellows
on the lookout for anomalous infirmities.

In particular incipient conflagration
and its sequellae: conditions for melee.

Thus were I myself
an object of study for Wrench Boy.

If required, vocabulary would recap diagnoses.

"Transport" and "Aberration"
were no aberration,
yet Wrench Boy surreptitiously maintained
a vigil vis a vis Wrench Girl
and the woman called Melee.

[]

The president of the bank
was concerned about incipient melee,
but the latter was in the air
when Transport
affected Embryo.

No one was thinking about rocks.

If the males and females
costumed in medical rain gear
had not looked
in their red book,
the presence of Wrench Boy
would not have improved my infirmity.

[]

Hammerhead, you wafted
across the membrane
to inhabit my embryo.

Existence foundered on rocks.

Dammit, I am Hammerhead.

I have great need of conflagration. Why.
Because 'tis there!
Beyond the Ridge.

[]

Nothing can contain
the ebullience of Hammerhead.

He is my transport,
I his.

Because of conditions in embryo.

The great fluidity of all things.

Because of the ubiquity of Zero.

[]

Black Box can appear at all
only because Red Box
enjoins the enthusiasm of Hammerhead.

Tiny African Rattles
brighten the inner worlds
Black Box can entertain.

Were I not Hammerhead
what is beyond the Ridge
would register as Zero.

I am my own infirmity.

[]

The profligacy of Red Box
permits Long River--

all the permutations of Deep Storage
to seem a tumbling of rocks

on top of which fair Crystal
opens her red box

and shows herself as its mirror.

Wrench Boy faces Wrench Girl.

The dizziness of this
breaches infinity.

[]

Violet is astonished
that I appear as Hammerhead
Hammerhead as me.

She splits into ten-thousand avatars--
a vase and raceme of her
in every window of The Old Hotel.

"The Old Hotel be my refuge"
she exclaims,
"My refuge from Hammerhead."

She was with me,
tincturing my embryo.

Her vapors affected my transport.

No one cried out "Aberration!"

Just this was the vague situation: aberration indeed.

[]

Jaguar at peace in Deep Storage.

Bugle hung on its nail.

Black Box, not in use,
afforded nobody transport.

The word "tongs" transposed to "sTong-pa,"
might just as well
have been Black Box.

All things tinctured with aberrancy--
but soon reduced to Zero:
The End of Aberration
as Wrench Boy, Wrench Girl
gaze in wonder at each other

across The Mirror.

Money Has An Enemy 12.2

Long River runs through the heavens,
the life stream of every embryo.

Bellows obliterates and manifests
world upon world.

Violet sits on her ridge
absorbed with her singular infinity.

The bugle blows
far far away from the porch
of The Old Hotel.

Only Melee hears it.

Long River oblivious to bellows
nurtures a thousand violets,

bellows sucks and blows
beyond the worlds.

Violet attuned to Long River
absorbed in her infinity.

[]

Embryo waits in Deep Storage.

Crystal costumed in rain gear
must focus her aberration
some otherwhere than upon Violet.

African Rattle rattles
set to her most settled register.

Small but intricate music
spreads through The Old Hotel.

Yet aberration manifests among violets
and Melee adorns herself withal.

[]

Come out onto the rocks, dear Violet,
Violet come
and welcome Wrench Boy, Wrench Girl.

A quiet collective
forms about Melee.

[]

I am my own aberration,
quite since embryo.

My precious African Rattle
complements alterities. 

I do not regulate vocabulary
but commune with Violet and her jungle.

[]

We are all assembled
summoned by Hammerhead.

I'll pump the bellows.

Vocabulary belonging to Crystal
shall not intimidate Violet
if she but make application
of realized Zero.

[]

Come the Conflagration--
a Zero in the pocket
of every suit of rain gear;

Violates will proliferate
in the soul of Aberration;

Black Box at every doorstep;
Actually, no need for rain gear;

Embryo give birth to crystal;

Violets proliferate
in the soul of Aberration.

How handsome the Jaguar
before The Old Hotel.

How generous the bank.

[]

Infirmity works no embryo.

Embryo securely ensconced in its own soul.

Money Has An Enemy 13.2

Crystal

whatever the bellows blows
along Long River,
however the rocks
support the banks,
no matter in what manner
vocabulary can or cannot
regulate infirmity
and the intricate intimate sonorities
of African Rattle
elucidate or obscure--

Crystal elucidates Long River,
makes sheer rocks to shine,
allows Long River's petri-form embankments
to manifest as crystal
so that even the bank
whose habits of deep storage
are not illumined at all
when conflagration comes--

even the bank
that markets
inauthentic rattles
not out of Africa--

that do or do not reverberate
within the heart of Melee
or ameliorate infirmity with tongs. . .

[]

Crystal is so subtle
in her ravishing luminescence
that she anneals the lesions of infirmity,
has Hammerhead drop his hammer's head
and settle, quiet on the slabs. . .

[]

Wrench Boy's aberration may be his bugle
as he stands upon his stony pedestal
and causes Melee to arise

but Red Box instructs Conflagration
and Bellows infuses Embryo

and The Old Hotel
is itself an elastic bellows
with jaguars
passing in and out
of the maze ways
invisibly controlling
the comfortable porches.

[]

Even fake crystal
that disguises its infirmity
implicates infinity
by changing the appearance of rocks,

gives Violet her power
to garland with violets
the infirmities of Hammerhead
and to grow between the cracks
of adamant and granite.

[]

Everything is in transport--
bugle as crisp as zero

and in each crumbling horst
there shakes an African rattle,
even if it sounds like jive.

[]

The very rain gear we all wear is radiant
like the golden  dawn's own bugle--
white heat of highest zero
shouts out of the womb
of a clear blue stone.

[]

In the center of Black Box
in its darkness

the bellows draws in
World Night

but an infinitesimal crystal
glistens
as in a secret room
of The Old Hotel

Money Has An Enemy 14.2

There are also very large tongs
where Long River runs through the heavens
and crystal
flashes
from goddess to Large Glass
on the inner surface
of the cover of Red Book
and the planetarization of Jaguar avatars
takes Transport
as if to infinity
till Conflagration come.

Infinity takes shape
as crystal--

red box
a new kind of crystal.

Red Book retells
the planetarization of Tongs
and the cosmos is full of jaguars.

[]

The smaller the bugle
the more compact the infinity.

Violet wafts her scent across the melee.

This sort of infinity
binds and releases in an instant
Wrench Girl to and from Wrench Boy,

their images
in mutual conflagration.

[]

Flash! Flash! Zero!

Wrench Boy and Wrench Girl
in mutual amorous gazing--

each sees the other
across
Red Box Crystal mirror--

The Old Hotel
fills the heavens
to further amplify
the planetarization of Transport.

Violet works out a Concordat with Vocabulary,
Wrench Boy and Wrench Girl
absorbed in their strange mutuality.

Hammerhead: panic and response,
precipitous and violent. 

[]

Infinity as if obliterated,
when tongs and bellows attempt
to mollify Hammerhead.

His precipitous panic
has no pause to consider
vocabulary.

Even the desuetude of rocks
cannot retard him
or offer him chance for reflection.

In spite of his quirky energy,
his agency contrasts with Jaguar's.

For one thing he seems
not ever to have come out of embryo.

Without the condition of melee
he would be nothing but vocabulary.

Wrench Boy has the advantage in that
the planetarization of rain gear
suggests for him an alliance
with the avatars of Jaguar.

They multiply indefinitely
but definitely not
to infinity.

Perplexity about this
distorts aberration.

Infinity exaggerates the prescience
otherwise natural
to an African rattle
which has its own spate of confusions
vis a vis infinity
neither Wrench Boy nor Wrench Girl
can yet be called upon to adjudicate.

[]

Infirmity panics Hammerhead.

Infinity simply alarms him. 

The Old Hotel
in its cosmic avatar
will not even provide him with rain gear.

Infirmity will be assuaged
in the sweet healing stream of Long River.

Consider all these perspectives.
They have no difficulty
finding habitat or origin
within Black Box.

As for the Bank:
another chapter
in Red Book's pages.

Wrench Boy and Wrench Girl
relax and gather force
where Long River flows.

Money Has An Enemy 15.2

Hammerhead is ignorant
of his need for Crystal
and yet he uses tongs
to pluck things from Deep Storage.

Black Box encloses pure Being.
All manifest things and happenings
do come out of it.

All beings love violets.
All money is at home in The Bank.

When Wrench Boy and Wrench Girl
become each other in a moment
and flash beyond the world,
all the money there is
vibrates The Bank.

My tongs have access entirely to all Deep Storage.
Your tongs have access entirely to all Deep storage.

[]

I love Melee.

Our transport disturbs the coinage.

Together we feel the subtleties of Crystal
who sits beyond the worlds.

Rain gear in rainy weather
when no one has very much money,
visibly ripples with her light.

Deep Storage has no need for money.

Conflagration damages coinage.

Wrench Girl / Wrench Boy
watches.

[]

Every moment of time is an embryo.

Transport progresses down along Long River.

Long River comprises many streams,
hence the varieties of rain gear.

Deep Storage
stores all varieties
manifest, yet
also knows access
to what is
manifest    not.

Wrench Boy / Wrench Girl
sits still and watches.

[]

Penury is no aberration.
One vanishes back into embryo.

Quietly or violently
one tries to apply the tongs.

The value of violets
approaches infinity.

But if one senses Crystal,
all such formulations
recur to Black Box.

[]

One day the bellows
sucked up all the money.

All the African rattles
were silent
for a moment.

Then, in a jiffy,
they started to boogey
and struck up
extra-galactic transport.

Billions vanished in a flash
to be redistributed
in Deep Storage.

Conflagration covered the residues
including rain gear.

For a moment there was only
Black Box.

[]

Out of that
the first elements of vocabulary
transported themselves
in the form of an n-dimensional Red Box.

Red Box glows
with manifest entities
extracted in one action
from Black Box.

[]

Infinity,
the interior of Crystal,
powered the interior of Zero.

[]

Jaguar,
the Master of Deep Storage,
watches over the embryos.

Crystal, sunk deep into Being,
secretly watches
as she is watched.

[]

The Old Hotel
on the hill
is a living crystal.

[]

Infinity obviates money,
inundates rain gear,
perplexes The Bank
to the point of abject infirmity.

[]

If I had a bugle,
I'd stop kicking rocks
and merge my being with Crystal,
forget about aberration.

Thus spoke Wrench Boy.

Money Has An Enemy 16.2 (The Avatars of Ownership)

Buried in rain gear,
picked clean by tongs.

Hammerhead, the magus-priest,
on call in The Old Hotel--

weird wielder of magic hammers
hammers out zeros.

Prowling on rocks, a jaguar.

Each moment of time,
an embryo.

The jaguar
worked by Hammerhead
as he works The Old Hotel.

Hammerhead holds firm his hammer
in that resort's  Red Lounge.

Each guest to be buried in rain gear,
picked clean to zero.

[]

Misdirection of bugles
blasting in the dawn rain
while the work of tongs goes on
oblivious to incipient conflagration.

Hammerhead holds firm his hammer
at the center of his body.

He works the working
in  a red book
to arrange
The Old Hotel.

[]

Melee needs
neither tongs nor bellows
to work against this.

A scattering of vocabulary
wafts on the wind.

O Violet, take notice:
your secret scents
are on the wind.

Hammerhead, not yet distracted,
concentrates the figures
he casts
in his red book.

[]

The Bank has its own arrangement
as debt makes time.

Its tongs pick infirmities to liquidate.

How various
the uses
of Zero.

[]

The bugle fails to waken
the corpses bestrewn with violets

and Long River just rolls on.

Violet, oblivious
to her own slumber.

Infirmity of no consequence to Jaguar
who circumambulates Wrench Boy
in the Red Assembly Room
of The Old Hotel.

[]

I conjure from Black Box
the Avatars of Ownership,
one to each lifeless chamber
of The Old Hotel.

May the bellows outside of time
come to assist me
and the work of Japanese tongs

bring transport to Jaguar
and filaments of crystal

--misdirection to direct him--

Jaguar circumambulates Hammerhead
in the Red Lounge
of The Old Hotel--

a figure eight
between the chambers--

though the magus has no embryo to vex him

and The Old Hotel
is exterior to time

and luminous filaments
penetrate the sounds
of a thousand rattles out of Africa

Africa in ruins

a sacrifice
to the sound development
of a thousand aberrations--

discussion of all this over coffee

where infinity
is normalized by tongs:

all the while
things come to pass
as if plucked from Deep Storage--

an imago of Deep Storage
rises from the basement
and covers The Old Hotel--

The Old Hotel for a moment--
completely invisible.

Money Has An Enemy 17.2

Bugle blast
and hammerheads
and rain gear
in a lump
on the floor--

anyone's infirmity
treated like aberrancy

written up
in some red book.

Life itself
a Black Box.

In the dusty corner
near the fire place
where nobody builds a fire--

a broken bellows.

If it's raining,
put on rain gear.

If you have some unmanageable infirmity,
try to find the proper rain gear.

Rain gear
is no infirmity.

Bugle--
no aberrancy.

[]

A jaguar with an infirmity:
a sick cat--

has a limited vocabulary
but what power
is in those eyes!

One item of vocabulary
hammered out
by every hammerhead (respectively).

I'd trade my African rattle
for a decent pair of bellows.

[]

What a state of conflagration!

An exilarch
named Hammerhead
has come to examine The Bank.

We'll have to hide a way
our Black Box--

quickly stash within it
that statue of a jaguar,
that bronze-age figurine
of a boy
on whose forearms
we put a wrench.

[]

A Black Box
can be very useful.

You could call it a kayak
and paddle up Long River.

Images from Normal Life
that don't even seem
an aberration.

[]

The black Goddess
with four breasts,
blue crystals at the tips of her nipples.

Wrench Boy sneaks a look
from behind a rock.

He is a message
from The Bank.

This mythologem,
however she produces transport
and startles the intellect
when the intellect first encounters it--
with proper manipulation
of vocabulary
will be judged
to be an aberrancy.

[]

Everybody still likes violets.

Wrench Boy imagines their scent
when he contemplates Infinity,
confining
even the thought of Infirmity
to Deep Storage.

Infirmity doesn't fight back.

She possesses her own sort of infinity.

[]

Infirmity discusses with Melee
the antithetical condition of rocks.

Is this not a matter for Vocabulary?

Recourse to Black Box
causes the course of Long River
to exaggerate its banks
and flow
          with undulant stress
through the annals
of Red Box.

[]

For all your rocks and rain gear
and your amiable construction
of The Old Hotel

(which, like they say,
"is built on rock")--

and rain gear, by the way,
in rainy weather
is like a rock--

[]

If you cannot locate
the embryo
inside you--

zap the whole construction.
Pure aberration.

[]

You will not unsettle Zero
or extrapolate the rhythms
hidden in Black Box.

Takes Tongs for that.

Money Has An Enemy 18.2

Vocabulary's rain gear
can bugle to infinity
but all it produces
is melee.

Deep Storage
makes space
with zeros
and supplies forever
Long River.

At zero-degree,
Bugle recoups
Infinity.

Bugle celebrates
Infinity's vocabulary,
accommodates Melee.

Wrench Boy
in rain gear--

Jaguar, whose eyes
are zeros.

Black Box --
all time in embryo.

The true cost of transport:
zero.

Crystal unsullied
in the heart of Melee.

[]

Black Box exceeds
Possibility's transport.

The zeros in Jaguar's
gem-stone eyes
flash out at Violet.

She speaks
with her sweet
aromas and retreats, before so
magisterial an assault,
to a small black box
she keeps in the pocket of her rain gear.

[]

Quickly, O Africa! Rattle your rattle!
Squeeze the magic tongs!
Don't retreat to embryo--
Open up Red Box:

Out pops Jaguar!
Violets on his shoulders.
He transports aromas
to an atmosphere of melee.

[]

A mountain of hammerheads,
a valley of wrenches.

Crystal: her buttons on rain gear
glisten all the way to the bank.

Darkness in embryo.

Essence of Jaguar: see that smell?
a tincture of infinity.

Specialty shops open like poppies
all along Long River.

[]

Who will foot the bill
for a new foundation of rocks?

Business practically zero in the shops
of The Old Hotel.

Market research in embryo
unable to countenance Zero.

Infinitesimal radiance
the silence of Crystal.

[]

Weather this season
an unfortunate infirmity.

Sold nothing but poppies and rain gear.

The Avatars of Ownership
drowning in rain gear.

The cycles of market fluctuation
manipulated by abstract bellows.

[]

When business is black,
the Avatars of Ownership, in secret,
agitate for instant Conflagration.

Infinity, though beyond speculation,
more promising than stultification by Zero.

Put your money in bellows.

Infinity the limit
for the price of priceless crystals.

[]

In a dusty corner
in a musty room,

Aberration hugs Infinity to Crystal

and puts on rain gear.

Money Has An Enemy 19.2

Practice makes Transport.

The boy with the bugle
studies vocabulary
and takes a job
standing in front of the bank.

The girl with an African rattle
works The Old Hotel.

That this were an aberration
is far from the thought of Crystal.

Aberration causes vocabulary
to slip one notch.

The Exilarch in The Bank
works on his vocabulary.

The Bank neglects
practice for Transport.

African Rattles
improve how to think.

[]

Aberration expands its scope to infinity
without the application of tongs.

Deep Storage
lines Black Box
--this is no aberration--
with an ever-expandable vocabulary.

Blue magical tongs
exacerbate or ameliorate
aberration: your choice.

Long River drives through Long River
without equivocation.

Violets explode on the bank.

[]

The river bank
prepares for conflagration,

transposes rain gear
one notch
to violets.

The bugle
makes the sound
of a jaguar

and gets the attention of The Bank.

[]

The Bank is divided:

Is Hammerhead the Exilarch,
blown peremptorily hither
by an exercised Great Bellows

--sucked out of Deep Storage
without mediation of embryo,
bugled across the system,
panicking the Avatars of Ownership
to such an aberration
in general considerations
that Long River
flooded Deep Storage,
drowned out the bugle,
who returned to reexamine his vocabulary...

[]

In a few weeks or decades
the exercise of such panic
sums out to zero.

Great Bellows had nothing to do with it.

Infirmity, rather, shot through the system.

Why, indeed, Violet
is shy of The Bank.

[]

Wrench Boy's avatar
was first to panic
as he stood at his post
in front of The Bank--the bank
not "founded on Rock"

in spite of a certain jazzed-up aspiration
to appear like a crystal.

[]

Red Box liable to result in Aberration and Melee,
for Melee secretly, pervasively
enervates The Bank --

a secret known only
to  a few wily jaguars...

Money Has An Enemy 20.2 (N-Dimensional Rain Gear)

After a sufficient passage of time
Violet's vocabulary
passes all the way
to Transport;

Jaguars multiply without limit
and become the particulates
that flame Conflagration;

Infirmity transforms with such variety
that its affinity for Melee
reads as identity;

Tongs show uses on every scale,
in every context,
plucking Melee herself
from her many states of transport,

transmuting jaguars
to transports of Jaguar,

integrating Violet
with every possible degree of conflagration.

[]

This picture--plucked from Deep Storage.

Melee at the cinema,
laughs at its scope.

Infinity, a matter of gauge,
in the latest Movie Palace
along Long River.

When she cannot follow the plot
or think the thought,
Melee yawns.

Hammerhead is not so sanguine
about this performance.

An attitude, had she possessed one,
he'd have shared with Crystal.

Melee's species of transport
--the whole lot of them--
accord with a vast multiplication
of applications of tongs.

Bugles blast,
or with impeccable refinements
in their brassy vocabularies,
accord with such multiplicities
easily
also.

Hammerhead and Crystal
unaccountably seated together,
together demur.

[]

It is the matter of an N-dimensional
activity of tongs,
not multiplicity merely;
counter-posed to an N-dimensional river flux,
not merely "long." 

Our bank experiments with such dimensionalities
but in that
it finds itself
diverted from--The Bank.

The Old Hotel,
already hyper-dimensional,
diverts itself by flashing
back and forth from zero.

For a moment The Old Hotel is full of jaguars.

But Crystal has no attitude
in spite of it all.

Mundane dimensionalities
may very well divert The Bank,
but her self possession
above all multiplicity
is like a rock.

Curiosities and quibbles
over how Long River might fluctuate
in every direction at once
occupy the cogitations of Wrench Boy;

but N-dimensional rain gear
decked out to fit the inhabitants
along so extravagantly extended a river
would be a matter of standard regalia
for the guests in The Old Hotel. Aberration?
Try to imagine that:
an N-dimensional aberration!

[]

"The Earth is just a big rock,"
said Jaguar
after he'd recovered himself
and spit out the hyper-geometrical tongs
he'd bitten off
with solid geometrical jowls.

[]

Black Box
might actually closet
every attitude. 

One for each jaguar.

Zero to recover what
the pages of Red Book
opined
page by page:

indeed it was just that
that quelled the Jaguar
and allowed his unruly avatars
to recover themselves.

[]

Peace be upon the world
if and only if
Black Box
and its vocabulary
flow like a singularly intricate and long
Long River,
its many-dimensional experiment
perfectly virtual,
calmed in the end, if not quelled,
by the presence of Crystal.

[]

It was The Great Bellows,
or might as well have been,
in The Tower Suite
of The Old Hotel
that stupefied Hammerhead utterly
with the thought that he might align himself with Crystal
by dimensionalizing Long River--
that is, by putting himself
squarely in opposition
to that operation;

but it was Melee--the Exhalation
to one Great Inhalation--
who, as extravagant witness--
threw a percipient rock
at his Magus-ship's prepossession.

[]

It requires an embryo
to grow vocabulary
and Hammerhead
only gives birth to rocks.

He has a limited knowledge of Black Box.

And African Rattles
exchange their musics with Jaguar's

while Hammerhead--High Priest Magus--
putzes around with Vocabulary.

Money Has An Enemy 21.2

Ride a rock for Transport.

Violet knows how to grow silent.

If this universe seem a black box
then Being itself lies under occultation.

Wrench Boy / Wrench Girl--
habitués of infinities.

African Rattle
grows out of silence.

Hammerhead, Hammerhead,
you cannot hide
behind an African Rattle:

Violet is everywhere.
Her silence is like
a Black Box.

Violet vibrates
in that sweet solicitude
for everything.

Black Box, Being herself,
hides
in a rock.

Wrench Boy / Wrench Girl--
where are you
hiding?

Melee says
Red Book
contrives you.

African Rattle, intimate and subtle.
How can that be?

Aberration--no explanation.

Deep Storage is an Old Garage.

Melee's rigorous transport
has her eye on Embryo.

[]

It was Blue Tongs
that, set to a subtle vibration,
occasioned hieratic garb
--ceremonial rain gear.

Skew The Blue
and African Rattle
articulates Violet.

Hammerhead grows subtle
beneath a skewed vocabulary
and toys with his own sort of transport.

I myself don ceremonial rain gear
and apply for the use of Blue Tongs.

[]

I step back a bit
and always see Melee.

Red Book is there to be
intimately perused
when one's own spirit
cannot intuit Crystal
and Being's Black Box
is so remote
that various extenuations of tongs
seem requisite
for any access to Transport.

I thought of violets
growing on the banks.

Then I thought of Hammerhead.

[]

I myself
intend a proper use
of notions of infinity.

This quite does away
with absolute infirmity
without compromising Zero
as Black Box.

Rather, once again,
I think of Hammerhead.

[]

I would not bugle Crystal.

Only Infirmity
produces tongs for that.

Rather I elevate
Black Box.

[]

I put aside
all thought of Conflagration.

I Black Box
all but ceremonial rain gear.

I must construct my transport
ignoring Cosmic Bellows,
that consciousness of Infirmity
seem remediable by tongs. 

All this I herein confess
to be my own infirmity.

For Violet beyond me
knows tinctures outside of this world.

Jaguar proliferates his avatars:
this is not his infirmity.

O Violet--
Infirmity for you
is safe from the application of tongs.

Flash! Flash! Vivid Flash--

in an instant

Wrench Boy is Wrench Girl.

[]

Long River
washes away
its own infirmity.

Long River
in many dimensions

reads Infirmity as
an extenuation of Zero.

Money Has An Enemy 22.2  (Theories of Poetry)

Red Book requires
a theory of poetry,
a garland of violets
to decorate The Rock,
an extenuation of Zero
as if every embryo
had a lien on The Bank
and Conflagration
reversed a portent
hidden by rain gear--
Conflagration
an exaggeration
over rocks:

Zero celebrates Rock Day
so that Zero and Rock together
provide a theory of poetry for Red Book
at least in embryo.

[]

When Melee was asked
for her contribution
to the theory of poetry,
she consulted Violet
who knew all about
decorating rocks.

"Poetry is a Black Box,"
she opined
and went off
with a gesture
to attend a local conflagration.

[]

When Jaguar was interrogated,
he kept silent--and his silence
is a bugle
still.

He had not too long before
stepped right out
of a world-wide conflagration
and had had enough of cerebrating
under the figure of Hammerhead.

[]

For a hundred years
Infinity had limited
poetry.

After the smoke cleared,
still there was Violet
hanging about
on the rocks. 

[]

"The theory of poetry requires me,"
pontificated Crystal,
"not the other way on"
implying Infinity
had already
been surpassed
by her intimate association with Violet.

[]

She continued:

"The Theory of Poetry
reverses Deep Storage."

[]

"Theory is as Zero!

I am Hammerhead!"

Another county heard from.

[]

And:

"The Theory of Poetry
qualifies transport.

(Or is it the other way on?)"

"I won't touch that,"
said Violet.

"It is enough
to qualify rock."

[]

Theoretical hammerheads instantly
replicate to Infinity.

Black Box glows.

Delicate  mental web-work
inverts Infinity.

Melee versifies
the gesture of Conflagration.

[]

"I am Hammerhead,"
somebody expostulated.

"I militate against Zero.
You (and as such) are Aberration."

[]

An African Rattle
is a kind of poetry
that abrogates theory.

No it doesn't.

Deep Storage
finds every site of Conflagration
for Melee
who rushes her research through
in The Old Hotel.

There were African Rattles a-plenty.

Violet became quite engrossed
with Cosmic Bellows.

[]

The Theory of Poetry
confuses Vocabulary
and had better abrogate in principle
the use and abuse of tongs.

Otherwise: Infinity.

[]

Hammerhead takes theory
on his own terms
and, as has been his wont, won't compose
with Zero.

[]

Theoretical infirmity
appeals to the song of Long River,
chaunted all night by Wrench Boy.

Money Has An Enemy 23.2

...at the lip
of a trough.

And at the bottom--
a Rock--
according to Red Book--

Aberration
crazed its surface.

In a hollow
at its core
a frozen bellows.

Jaguar is Wrench Boy.

He sat
at the lip
of the trough

in the silent stillness
of his intelligence,

at his hip
the bugle.

Frozen Wrench Boy
according to Red Book--

an aberration
in Red Book--

an aberration
that Deep Storage
seize up
and freeze the bellows.

[]

O African Rattle--
restore the heat
to some vocabulary
of Wrench Boy--

Qualify an embryo
with your kind of aberration.

Open a channel to Melee.

[]

Transport
for Hammerhead
is permafrost.

It scatters
the intelligence
of Wrench Boy.

It focuses
The Old Hotel
so it works
like a bank.

Absolute Zero
unpumps Bellows.

[]

Conflagration,
where are you now?

In the triple basement
of The Old Hotel.

The Rock
at The Lip.

Cold Crystal.

Silent Bugle.

[]

The Jaguar
circumambulates
The Rock.

He has no need of rain gear.

His essential caloric melts down
aberrational superfices
but does not quite release The Old Hotel.

[]

Cyclic crises
to infinity
awaken caloric
in Wrench Boy.

He can explore totalities--
the sumptuous hot interiors of Black Box.

At the center
rich blackness.

Silent, intelligent,
Hammerhead.

Wrench Boy compels the crisis,
unfunds Vocabulary.

[]

Violet grows in the night that devours the darkness,
oblique to every aberration
and has, though forever vexed,
dissolved Vocabulary in Deep Storage.

Her aura settles Wrench Boy and his transform.

Zero has her own vocabulary.

It is like a rock.

Its bugle gathers rain gear.

[]

Frozen tongs
invest in Aberration.

Dimensionless, frozen mostly, Long River
nevertheless leads long to Melee.

She suffuses space
with an oblique vocabulary.

In the center of The Rock
an African Rattle.

This further turns the Cycle of Infirmity--

but not yet.

Money Has An Enemy 24.2

The Old Hotel
in cold hell.

The Red Book
turns white--

then ashen,
then no color at all.

In Deep Storage
nothing alters.

Melee barely stirs.

Long River's superfluids
climb the walls.

The future
is a Black Box.

Embryos shrink and shrivel.

Vocabulary maps onto one word: "Embryo,"
and that
in Deep Storage
Melee stirs
but barely.

A furnace
in Deep Storage
three sub-basements down below
The Old Hotel--

Long River's hidden sources.

[]

Money has an enemy,
but Money slumbers.

Vocabulary fails me.

Rain gear cannot gear
down
enough.

I need a rock
whose recondite interior
is a silence so deep
it bottoms out and opens onto Melee.

Let this be my Transport
where Aberration's infirmity
generates ceremonial rain gear,
where Jaguar prowls again
and Africa issues magic drums and rattles.

[]

The silence of Conflagration
defines our infirmity.

A Jaguar sleeps in every frigid nook
of The Old Hotel.

Wrench Boy and Wrench Girl
inhabit disparate vocabularies.

Even Bugle blows "Black Box"
though he blows for Melee.

Yes, there are tongs
even for this
and therefore living Embryo.

Infirmity cannot remain
Infirmity forever. 

Time has not been vanquished
from vocabulary.

[]

Hammerhead is locked
inside his unacknowledged embryo,
and yet in the recondite blackness of Deep Storage,
invisible violets proliferate
in the pockets of frozen rain gear.

Mighty Jaguar rumbles in his slumber.

Certain items of vocabulary
vex Black Box.

Melee dreams
of an African Rattle.

Hammerhead dreams of Melee.

Cold Crystal
watches.

[]

In my bank
money is an embryo.

Start-up funds,
of course, begin at zero.

You need a new sombrero,
but they give you rain gear.

It is not the thing
to be an embryo,
yet Transport must start somewhere.

[]

Infirmity--as good a place as any.

A dried rose
in a red book.

Conflagration
starts with a spark.

Infinity eventually follows:

Hallelujah! :  Melee!

Yowee Zowee! : African Rattle!

[]

Bellows pops
out of its red box.

Blue tongs pinch, then pluck.

And Melee instigates Melee.

Money Has An Enemy 25.2

An ancient infirmity
surfaced unsolicited
out of Deep Storage
and took a room
in The Old hotel.

The African Rattle
neither waited
nor acted.

Crystal was poised as a star
above The Tower.

Zero enclosed the entire encryption. 

Bellows'  blow-suck-swoosh
compelled the shape of circumspection.

She had been reinstated and transported
to the ancient function Bellows had
in a central suite
no guest had ever occupied
above the Red Assembly
in The Old Hotel.

That African Rattle sounds
were rumored to embody
messages
whose decryption required
a certain term of residency
in The Old Hotel

was itself a message
African Rattle transmitted
malgre Ancient Infirmity.

Filaments of crystal flashed the news.

[]

On the passage up from abject debility
as well as on the logical
                             decline down to same,
Infirmity shakes
an African Rattle.

[]

There are innumerable species of Transport,
some the mere effulgence of debility;
in others Transport solves
conditions Bellows blows--

suck-swoosh irregularities
corrected by Aberrancy.

In others still,
African Rattle encodes
transmission to Transport.

[]

A certain sociality obtains
'twixt Violet
and African Rattle
that is less like a rock
than mutual response
to the call of a bugle.

[]

As if on the lip of a gorge,
those who would make inquiry of Black Box
must take up residency.

This depicts
the certain sociality that obtains
'twixt Violet and the Rattle out of Africa.

To complete the decryption: an inquiry
poised on the very ridge of Conflagration.

[]

The Next World in embryo
plants dreams of Infinity
among the coded indices
deep in storage,

to which Hammerhead
obstructs passage
and holds the key,
in that way
enervating Transport:

burrow or fly as one might,
the message remains undecoded.

[]

And yet the true encryption of Black Box
has no key.

All the rooms in The Old Hotel
are locked without refuge.

Melee laughs at the operancy of such secrecy.

It is access to Black Box
or else merely--Apparency.

The Old Hotel itself--Black Box Itself.

The key to the vocabulary for which:

one cypher; that is, one key;
that is, one word--

to every chamber--

entrusted only to Crystal.

[]

Wrench Boy offers a supplement:
for every word one jaguar.
Otherwise you lock The Bank.

Red Box supports innumerable sports of ontology.

To every being, her own rain gear.

In the World To Come
all the tongs are blue ones.

[]

Up the Hill from Long River:

Stand alone in The Tower beneath The Star.

Money Has An Enemy 26.2

Infinity coats The Old Hotel
with a volatile infirmity.

Ho hum. It's conflagration.
Call in the Tongs.

Bother. 

I am my own aberration.

The Last Long River
lasts long.

Old Lady Violet
just keeps
being new all over,

while Old Man Long River
abides each new conflagration.

Conflagration cannot put
Infirmity to rest.

Renewal itself--
what "Conflagration"
is so often coded for.

Oblivious Infinity
commutes with too many tongs.

[]

For every room in it,
a possible Old Hotel.

Just ask Bellows.

Every bank
has all the money.

What happens when my Balance is Zero?

Blow the Bugle.

My Zero might be that key
to The Old Hotel.

Vocabulary, the Ghost of Money
(Ghost or Zygote, really)
whose enemy is Violet.

[]

Crystal, of course, so easily propagates avatars.

Consider "The Light
of a Rhodochrosite."

Untrammeled by tongs.

What irks our Melee
is an Old Hotel
elegant but tone deaf
without an avatar

dastardly impeding transport.

In that case, shit,
just bring on Conflagration.

[]

High above the flames
a jazzy double imago:

Wrench Boy / Wrench Girl.

Conflagration runs along Long River
trailing flames behind her.

In the opposite hands of each imago--
African Rattles.

[]

My Discourse on a Black Box:

"The womb of nature and perhaps her grave."

Perhaps indeed.

In any case, the approachable but unreachable
head waters of Long River.

Though Crystal so elegantly bespeaks this,
beware of Crystal.

Carefully slip in tongs
and watch them disappear.

Carefully draw them out--
now they are blue ones.

Consider the safety
offered by Rain Gear.

This is not unlike
the refuge afforded by Rock.

Not much use
in the midst of Conflagration.

Better trust to your own infirmity.

Consider it in the light of embryo
rather than aberration.

Trust Bellows
if only because she operates
both fore and aft
every conflagration.

Observe her intimacy with Deep Storage
but not in prejudice
against Long River.

Around it circulates
a jungle full of jaguars

and the ever-blooming ubiquity of Violet.

It fulgurates vocabularies
of all languages not-yet.

Again observe the Operatrix that is Bellows.

It is no stranger to zeros
and mocks itself and amuses itself
and with consummate gravitas
unveils itself
in the volatile signatures and pages
of Red Book.

It also excuses itself
from every vocabulary,

takes each special thralldom
down to Zero--
the radical, if momentary,
release that it offers as Transport.

Its use is tongs.

If it need some habitation--
Old Hotel.

Its motherly memory--
Deep Storage.

Between its vast and miniscule temporal epochs--
inundation / conflagration.

Against much complication, proliferation, mere prolixity--
the enormous versatility of Zero.

If it require an adversary:

I think of Hammerhead.

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