Rising, unstilled, roughly disquieted; as by
high winds shaken, holding place barely - uproot
pending sure as *enta geweorc* makes ruin
tower infernal -
love-work not love's labour but self-delighting
self in other, ever to self returning
strange, pellucid image at once dissolving
into the ether -
how to make of this a resilient fixture,
binding freedom given its public licence
may be taxing; still, let me here acknowledge
uncurbed, unspent, forcing its transmutation:
world-unmaking epoch to be concluded
(spoilers!) if you credit the happy campers'
meek jubilation -
or if not, consider the default option
stark foreclosure, smog of our immolation
greasing rainfall, penance without remission
frozen in carbon.
* * *
Why yes, I *have* lately received a copy of Prof. Hill's latest
collection, thank you for asking. :P
References are to the Old English poem known as "The Ruin", Tolkein's
Ents, the disaster movie "The Towering Inferno", Gillian Rose, the
GPL, Badiou's theory of evental forcing, David Graeber's book on Debt
(which closes with an argument in favour of an international
debt-forgiveness Jubilee), and Han Solo getting frozen in carbonite.
Just so you know.