I find that life reduced to instrumentality is deadening. Rather, I find life as music to my years…
Instrumentality
Every con tension
Came down to this
How’s this work
Sow trying
Too make it
Humanity’s busyness
Fore getting humans
The vary accedes
To what we due
Lust in quarrel sum numb∙ers
Halving words
And leaden notes
Of instrumentality
Played
Abridge too afar
In practice reduction ism
As buy passing
The art of the quest in
House this work
Without memorializing creator
Of awe subjects
Not mirrorly shell company
Abut the unbridled music to our years
As care attune
As house this true
The impassable lyrics without poet
Life adding up in efface of infinitude
Divorcing rhythm and blues
As fool hardy har har money
Daringly spirited and still living
Between the notes
Wear nothing
Can unyoke us
From adorn naked truth
And splitting heirs
From awe that we bequeath
