From ‘THE BOOK OF WORDS’

 

Words, words, words. What are words? These are words.

 

Words in this epistemology I would say are useful tools associated with the instinct to survive.

 

Man is words and ‘man’ is a word and words draw bridges across metaphysics and words make connections between first and third persons.

 

Words are also a great bandwagon of falsity we must presume is not false in order to make life easier.

 

Words are, well, ONLY words.

 

“MAYFLY” I say the word ‘mayfly,’ phonetically, sounding out its every vowel-sound alphabetically.

 

The word ‘Entropy’ spelled backwards, i.e. y.p.o.r.t.n.e could frame the first, unformulated spark of appetence in Nothingness preceding Creation, or else have no meaning under the sun in which case I’d say that could be Tucker’s constant.

 

Neil Curry says “if two people can agree on the meaning of a new word, it becomes a real word.”

 

‘Indwellable’ might mean the opposite of ‘indomitable’ when it comes to the medicine man’s medieval cinema screen empoldered from the harbour in Iceland.

 

Neil Curry also liked the bit in my essay on Norman Nicholson where I wrote “You can find freedom from accepting limitation.”

 

Sometimes I drive a stolen, Dream Factory car for whom punctuation is merely brakes, bird with the skin of snaking in the Lakes.

 

Music, Magic and Mystery make the three M’s of words.

 

I think I might write A Trance of Stalks by Professor Quentin Ponsonby, when I am bored.

 

The distractionary may contain the metallurgical origins of birds, whom it seems speak, in gagazookzook and bongateebingbong.

 

I think poetry is more like Man interpreting God and music more like God interpreting Man.

 

I like my lines of shining conveyance to be free to connect in all directions.

 

When two words thought to be mutually exclusive connect in Holy Orbit it forms an Image.

 

“Noetic” meaning “of the mind” is my new favourite word because its suffix ‘ic’ reminds of Icarus who flew too near the sun.