(via cardcow dot com)
Benignant, inconsolable desire,
the sword of Orion, intricate Carcosa
build & remain alive within, like coral;
grow & yet stow beneath my tan fedora.
What of tomorrow's restive story coded
in glyphs, etched into an aluminum cube?
I only know the chore of celadon
unceasing, i only wield the neumes of breath.
Zentangle.
"[In 1914 I]t was impossible to take democratic socialist internationalism seriously after the Socialist parties in all the belligerent countries opted for nationalist war over class solidarity and international class interest. Men were willing to die for the Italian nation but not for the international working class." --William Pfaff, The Bullet's Song (2004).
Gliese 445.