Felix metaphysicum

Proposition 1

To suffer feral space,

                                    as
I have

                                    as
  the moth sheds and
  flames dim,

                                    as
  even horripilant geese
  fly,
                            as

  groundable, hard and
  brunal life is                            

                                    as
  ants misidentify sky
  & fail to agree if
  it's sky at all

-- silly fallibilist ant!--
                                  

What nudged this man-monist into
 the Ditch, anyways:

• the resistance of open arms
• the oily bead in a frog's leal eye
• the christ in every shivery post-dream?

Ach!
         I spit on any or some 'You' or 'there' as
         having no
                        Ital 
                             at
                                all

                                    

Felix in a mood for some sabre-rattling

"But this heaven, namely the firmament, is corporeal"
                                                                              (Origen)


Who doesn't try debarring the moon
                                                    these days?

And Jubals, that are commonplace, that
  clack as they grin, of course,
                                    & who always mean  to

          --meaning-monkeys!--
                                                      why, they're the worst


Was it not the whole, and not some "part-world"
                                                                 I fell into,
  for you?

Look--

             Pert idealists and amigos know that
             Two, with the other below
              educing and joyful,
               made One
                   solus
                     horripilant (as the geese fly)
                       sky-affirming
                         cheer!
                           
                       
There was no part-world, none that I could ever see

The new 'realism' as expounded by Felix

"the alliterative platitude world-weary
  coming to mind"
                                                 (Frank Samperi, The Expulsion)


It's too anthroporeal, says the chic Roi, with
  glee,
that a void absurd judgementally human thing
  as 'me' shall fly-

or  the being-er, thought or rather a type of
  theory rooted deep in
   guys who try

to always stretch or rejig ugly brunal worlds of
   their choosing

Oh! Bachelard, elard........

At any or over my dead dream, explanandum
  sensual we may be, a relief from
  le  Maître -

as every smiley Po saith, superidealist-

at best a red momenta in
                       a
                         fallible
                                 frog
                                       eye

   
                            (we'll always be)
 

Felix

(for Felix Baumgartner)


It's worth--as, i.e. in hearts--the Wains
  and circles, star-blossoms,
in time to grow into this Nietzschean

Twinscrewing worlds & my smallness, like this--
  it's done at last!
or in this Kampflatz of a life

falling like something vatic, & bursting
  across the eye

To be told everything's reducible to fear of error
  even up at the top--

god! let us begin