--- R A Y   D I P A L M A

It is the curse of a certain order of mind that it can never
rest satisfied with the consciousness of its ability to do a thing.
Still less is it content with doing it.  It must both know and show
how it is done.
			-Poe, Marginalia

The exculpation of taboos
Only the barest details were necessary
Plenty of darkness found under the stone light

Only the first steps
The earliest expressions absorbed in the disclosures
The words make of their earliest promptings

The sharpest edges were where they held back
Presenting the parts that remain of lasting perplex

The continuities of brief expressions
Afforded the explicit substance of expectation met with emphasis

Profound and quiet change the only marvel

Ceasing to be merely a lyric consequence

Who decides what the determinations are to be
Where are and who are the arbiters

All this is perceived as dispersed is real
Well and ample in the equation

The valence comprised of the convictions of nostalgia
Addressing a series of people mentioned only by name
Who are they now that they've never been?

The precincts of stealth continually renewed
Spectacle mistaken for metamorphosis

Agora and agon
Strangers conversing among others who are friends
The narrowest aspects emerge from the specific setting
The streets and rooms windows and doors

Stone and dust in the sun and rain
The overwhelming past no more than a course of false moves

Only the barest details were necessary
Only the first steps
The earliest expressions absorbed in the disclosures

Profound and quiet change the only marvel
Ceasing to be merely a lyric consequence

The precincts of stealth continually renewed
Plenty of darkness found under the stone light

The exculpation of taboos
Only what

is perceived as dispersed is real
Well and ample in the equation

The sharpest edges were where they held back
Presenting the parts that remain of lasting perplex

Agora and agon
Strangers conversing among others who are friends
The narrowest aspects emerge from the specific setting
The streets and rooms windows and doors

Stone and dust in the sun and rain
The overwhelming past no more than a course of false moves
The valence comprised of the convictions of nostalgia
Addressing a series of people mentioned only by name
Who are they now that they've never been?

Ceasing to be merely a lyric consequence
Who are they now that they've never been?