I start from edges
posing questions by the way
with shards
Is fear an engine?
What leaves formed language?
Am I approximate
for saying nothing
the nothing which seems to
become a book you can hold
marking something that opens
dissolves while making
broken systems, gods, engines
wings, the lake, rock and sand
Value wings, the lake, the rock!
All passages pink where edges raise questions
Is fear a machine, or the private
that’s interrupted?
You can be arrested if you turn lines
with a concept of measure
valueing wings and cliffs
where passages colour
edges with questions
How much do shards use significance?
Does extremity modify bodies
as time disappears inside a book?
You can be apprehensive about the rollback
its nerve can penetrate
all the passes of the rose
but at the rise of the edge
how much shards away usable?
Time disappears
to transform the interior into a book
its nerve can enter as it follows
all to pieces
To make interrupted systems
the cliffs I create where all steps rise
mine ascending an edge of questions
As time disappears
where are the new directions
opened, interrupted?
Jill Jones
Sydney, 2.40pm, 14 December 2005
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