whatever. whichever is maybe and
however, but… intrinsic to apotheosis
is the Grand Canal, the eidolons of Europe,
haunted language. the werewithal to process
sound arose in Greek, in alphabets, as a bland
“meh” transformed into a promise, guaranteed
wherever. sure, Empire is not the greatest,
but… indoor plumbing? showers of words?
one can visit the baths of Turkey and shoot
the shit with the most profound philosophers,
a series of What Ifs? of what is lost, remembered.
but whatever. education is only as good as
the student’s will to learn… as, like, some kind of
old word dusted off and set on the table,
the feng shui of a total fucking mess.