I hear the world speak
to itself

I listen under its breath,
resting Ivan Illich's The Vineyard
of the Text
spread out over my chest;
a fighter jet insistent
in the clouds,
filling the time frame
with the roaring voice of Zeus
and all sudden events with slowmotion

Everything is tactile, palpable
& horseshoed;
the letters running into each other;
uppercase into lowercase;
experimental poetry & rumours of war
resulting in – beautifully! -
Medieval Whereabouts
& Literally Literary
Nothing!