Pineal Matters

Inside the marble
                   bauble
                     bead or egg
        (spherical
             spherette
       pebble
           bubble
        bublet
            globule
        tigle seed or drop

 All the geometries
coil
       in the smoke snake
of the ruby’s asterism

All the possible
            configurations of apparency
                          lie folded

      And the globule
              has a face
      it faces Up
      it looks Up, takes Light, knows Sky—

forget about it. The machine
got jiggled and the process went on “tilt”—
you couldn’t see the sky anymore
   the possibilities
                              took hold of you
     made of you
                           a path among themselves

   very tiny, very stupid,
very self-concerned

and the globule
went blank, went black
  shriveled up

and the doctors examined it and declared
it had no function, no need to think  about that—no need
to feed
the bauble
with the light it craved so bad
forget about it
they told everybody and they did, we did
forget about it

Until now—the
whirling of the light about
the meditating corpus
simultaneously both ways at once
the counter-rotation of the rings and cylinders
resonating with geometries
                               forgotten
                                       until now, so
Transduce your care to another
chronotopy altogether the vectors
of appetite torque and spatiality grows mirthful–
spiring gyres comerge and syrinx noises shoot into the one
panophony of rapture

 rupture
the catacombs of forgetfulness 

break open
                    the decanters
                                          of the sky.