the ego insufficiency dance

what is real
in the machine
the head machine
on the wiggle
of a molecule
speaking in tongues
from architectures
of the unknown
this random intelligence
in the thick wind
in the real moisture
penetrating eyes
in deep reason
of oval thoughts
in centrifuge spirals
of the walking
erect as vertical horizons
in the evolved
in pre-language
minding the blizzard of
velocity and dreams
weighed in truth
in reciprocal flesh
and sundry time
this is ego transcended
in the flat weeds of nothing
as if nothing
is to be
in our fist
grasping itself

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