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Events have a new continuity now, disassociate clusters of data in pregnant post linear arrays, my first steps up the stairs of the tenement building are embedded in those taken later when departing, paying the dealer is folded around me first being handed his number, I'm in Court Street, and leaving the apartment can more properly be seen as an extended arrival, the wza-yei of this is, of course, that the future extrudes a curtailing force into the present, it comes to me that, in reality, I am a memory of myself, trudging a memory of Court Street, this construct encysted within a much larger yr nhhngr (?wtf?) where I'm already in Clinton Street, near the Pachino Arcade, almost home, all events are time roses, the clinched fuck uncrumbling into a life as the species folds back to annelidan ancestors, there lies our dho-hna. A meaning bestowed retroactively by forms as yet unachieved but implicit, I see that the lloigor are simply ourselves, yet unfolded in time to an utter condition beyond the limit of our usual perceptions, time being a function of matter,

Continued on Page 6


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