Namibian Echoes
Khoigab Dunes, outside Aus.
The desert’s scale forces one to let
go of the illusion of understanding.
The flies always find me.
The sheer weight of the sun.
The gravity of light. Sun bleaching
the fly strewn carcass of something.
*
Across definite spaces
I hear the Tractatus
But I cannot know
What I am hearing
Until its silence
penetrates me
I relinquish Logos
Beginning after the End
*
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