Where is the astute set of

Connected points that greet

Your short wisdom, your less

Than, or more or less than?

What kiln would store the

Burn, the stick, the rank

Of the hole that bumps you

Out of dimension to meet?

Where is the astute set of

Connected points that greet

Your short wisdom, your less

Than, or more or less than?

What kiln would store the

Burn, the stick, the rank

Of the hole that bumps you

Out of dimension to meet?

With a blunt instrument, can you slice

Through empirical classes and wish

Away the sluice of rhyme that locks

In place after a limp modus ponens

Remembers Socrates, remembers man?

Take this useless blade and allow it

To rust its slick away with each bleed

Of night, shuck of day, drawl of om,

Cool of the viper’s shady venom drawing

Luckless ciphers and callous rules of thumb.

An anti-spoke cartwheel rebounds Centripetally vacating spoofs of Dustworms wishing, waltzing - An Arthritic verse-form matches rap Of pain in three, four syllables That are evocative, ebullient- A Strange remembrance bothers lost Trapezoids seeking form in three four platonic wholes, wormthings

“1 The world is everything that is the case.” (1)

In case you were wondering it was otherwise. In

Any case, it follows that the contrary is

Contrariwise to the wisdom of the unwise:

Ipso factum dictum potus collapsimus.

“1.1 The world is the totality of facts, not of things.” (2)

And that is a god-honest truism, with the

Mathematical oath of truth tucked under

The collar of airtight proof and water

Borne disease: such are things and facts.

“1.11 The world is determined by the facts, and by these being all the facts.” (3)

Not a single factotum logicitis is to

Be left out, for that would be blasphemus

Homologus, an isomophic isotope of hydrogen,

Not unlike air, as opposed to water. Yes.

“1.12 For the totality of facts determines both what is the case, and also all that is not the case.”(4)

Here you go, case closed. The ipsonessess

And factotum alumni sit in closed spaces

Where atoms of flair carry out conversations

In vacuum. There is much disagreement & air.

*1-4: The first four statements from Ludwig Wittgenstein‘s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus*

I.

To say

q -> p (if q then p)

is the same as saying

~p -> ~q (if not p then not q)

The cuteness of p is livid

with the acute lull, the

insipid mistiming of q.

II.

The silence of a ratted bow beats long best sung after a conniption a derivation best left waiting - nightted

If you allow the diction of primes and moduli

To seep in, if you permit the proper allocation

Of happenstances to permute themselves

Into a blissful cohort of isomorphic wholes,

It dawns on you, allowing dawn to be a

Non-representative member of the set of

Holes warped into spacetime by the brute

Ness of a lived unwholesomeness, it dawns

On you that the primed possibilities of livid

Abundance are due to be outnumbered in

Theory, and soon in fact, so take recompense

At laudable affinities, half-lives and truth tables.

If you lisp the prime numbers till they

Sound just right, and not hesitate to

Mispronounce them oddly/evenly, they will

Slice right through your prism of angular

Hesitations and tabular premonitions such

That so and so theorem promulgated from

Above just has to be such and such, but

That is not how it goes, does it? That is

Simply the improbable trying to argue its

Hyperbole lemma into its own bit of real

Estate. Grab the primes, let loose their

Pronunciation, and they will burst into song.

*The Poincaré recurrence theorem states that certain systems will, after a sufficiently long but finite time, return to a state very close to the initial state.*

That return is a given is goose-bumpingly reassuring, but

The initiality, is it just the primordial sense of togetherness

Or something less? If so, what to make of the guarantor who

Does with her math what the fairytale-teller does with his

Amoral ends grafted onto mystic beginnings and shadowy

Roomfuls blighting necessity upon daft necessity in a blink?

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