Linea Alba

What awaits us At the trailhead She sleeping queen She dreaming huntress Cannot be still Cannot be quiet Very long And here we mill among Entangling spirits That somehow register Ye are no better No more deserving No less so No more qualified Despite all merits To be animate And to channel Bend the line Rest the level Unbraid the linea alba So much for the learned man I thought I would become Speak not the old tongue Speak not the new one I just spout jupiter jitter Radiate puppeteer's ache Tapping everpresent O'er the fontenelle Down the linea alba That dreaming huntress Speaks alternate english She one wrongly accused Woman odysseus Her joyous dotted tangle Cutting through all distant lands So what I gather I gather Not mine to hold together Midas had a touch Moses had a stutter Is there a thin line Of fibrous tissue Left for our hearts To get around to Some antique spindle Always felt Never known The mind goes clutching Over its surface The tongue is stuck The bridle's slack If you keep moving There is no hurry But if you stop The entire world is Shall we animate? Shall we channel? Till the line? Rest the level? Unbraid the linea alba? See you spry All reconstituted See you younger than you started Catching boulders on the hill all day long Ribcage like branches in wind Briars all chewed up What a lucky fellow What a lucky fellow No more jupiter jitter No more puppeteer's ache We go waterfalling O'er the fontenelle Down the linea alba