I'd Like to Hang Around and No Need to Thaw the Medallion

Ever look out over a vast landscape of completely unrecognizable shapes
moving in all directions at once and think “this is not the world. This
is merely the world as a navigable circumference.”?

Ever take both kinds of advice from the same total stranger and ignore
them simultaneously just to see where it all went when the dominoes fell
from the cockpit? Ever wonder if the stranger might’ve really known you?

What would happen if the buildings all suddenly lost their outer skins
and the people inside were forced to live without anyplace to hang
their children’s lousy artwork? What if a real witch were under one
of those structures?

Can a city function as a connected series of things that come together
as a unified whole also? Or does it all have to end at the grassline
with the barons squeezing the settlers for more and more until one man rises
to the forefront?

What was wrong with that last image? Was it the fact that there was no father
figure in it? Or were you fooled by the change of place from an urban center
to the unspoiled vistas of a completely different terrain?

Does hard air make your words more brittle? Does time erode like the objects
that are eroded by it? Since olden times there has always been some person
who saw the chance to try and cover millions of acres of brush with some
porous fabric, hasn’t there?

Would you prefer to be on the top or bottom when the end of days comes
knocking on your motel door? Do you care that they are nearer than you
think? Or do you realize that this is just a method of measuring
your tolerances?

In what way would you say you go along with the crowd? Just for the free food?
Or for things that might make your feet feel good when the country is slipping
to one side? What is the name you give yourself when just you and your
gun are home?

School make you nervous? A French maid make you nervouser? Made up words
have any effect like going up and down your spine much like a French maid
might? Can you name three ways four men might serve their country by killing
five others from another?

Write one sentence again and again and again and again until you can replenish
the film stock used up in making the triumph of the will. If I say that was
a question would you dare to argue? Or let pure form have its way over what
the hard parts are there for?