Enter John Smith, Today's Star of the Valentines' Match-Game: Our very own necromantic effeuiller la marguerite, John of Sinope [Lives of Eminent Philosophers, Book VI, Chpt. 2, Sec. 49] counts the petals before he hatches them (they die when he picks them for they whisper when he listens them—), genuflecting beinebietend for lieben from the morts, for better or worse to bet on the petron, versuchend hesuxian, he solicits the conticent stonesilent stature 7'10" of immovable gesture—for love? "On this earth I beatlabor my heart," spoke heaven to Peter.
Contestant #1 in February's Marcescence: As pedals wilt to hands and 4 legs walk on 2, this Himalayan Monk, well into the 10,000th year of unceasing-dharmraised fingertip-apogee (in front of Alexander the Great when once he stomped the ground—"tohubohu! dustballs on the dance of his feet!" (Genesis 1:2)—now he reaches to heaven for return), with the "ooo-ooo-ooo, cold on me" mathetes-mantra, i.e. a Posture from this Lifevirus Host for a Ghostlimb of Frostbite Exposure, i.e. a trade of living and dining's right to bear arms and bite of samsara for a snowman's unbrachiable withered twigs (as where thanatos twines nativity, the amaranth lives unborn)—this man of devotion, if receiving a dish of unordered food on your first night out, indeed this "tofubuffon! harkening for no plate yet conceived!" (ibid.) will, with no "s'il vous plait, garçon" but a patience for death's listful depetalsilence, raising his arm to be called on, decirculate all its blood for a deadlimb inanimate. From Jan to Feb, door to fever, the thermometer changes tempo, until what ninxit is frozen when now is forever.
Contestant #2 in Furthuring Manuvantara: (When to have your earth is to be it too, a solipsist stops taking showers. From this prodrome of dirty pores, consciousness, as—identity; ideation; adam; man; mind—membrane, builds an internal world of its own preserved impermeability: paradeisos, surrounded by walls.)—but this chrysostomus chews the aura in his diet with the sun-umbrae in his dial; his enchiridon is written without a hand; vade secum goes on without the him—Before Kesey had time to step outside and meet the man in his driveway (9 Perry Lane, Palo Alto), Cassady had already disassembled his own car with a single toothbrush, e.g. an exported deadlimb of the inanimate, an irredentures of an orimort immemorial, a nuggetory nothing of chrysostomus gold, he took everywhere he went: just as Gad-Zooks Zounds the Odds-Bodkins (sticmata-takabasis-tolgotha, three in a row), Neal was always washing the life right off his face, and miraculously with clothes always clean—though they were never new: the undying are not born (lotus floating dry on water, Gita 5:10)—this chauffrenetique, free from sapience, homoousios with the inanimate world around him, this mundal-mandala-manuvantara axis upon which all traffic revolved, who could see around blind corners and straight into the future, will always get you to the theater on time for date night.
Contestant #3 in Valete to the Times and all of Unchanging: (A) Asking questions moves the future into the present—"We will what I am now"—ontic insecurity. (smiley Repetition is death instinct: John Smith begged to statues to practice unrelenting rejection—"I am not your I am" (Hosea 1:9) and the iconodules could always refind themselves—this as immortality. (C) Acceptance, perfection preserved at the sacrifice of the world—"Ehyeh Aser Ehyeh," (Exodus 3:14) and the burning bush was not consumed, forever the same—this as death. (E) Jazz?—"bebop bebop bebop" and YHWH became BBP—the spontaneous is but once and begone forever: Bird Lives!
3 years
