Ghost of a Trance

—“mu” sixty-first part— Gray morning, blue morning, a feather blown between. Mashed earth incumbent, gone up from, never more naked if ever to be naked, brink what it was to be on... Where next we came stick-figure people greeted us. Abstract was abstract, also something else. Line, shape, extension each other than itself, of number we’d have said the same... Aspect arrested us, riveted we stood... Stick- figure epiphany held us in our tracks, everyone’s bones in full view... Gray morning, blue morning, an unheard string between. Bad heads’ morning reluctance, ennui’s next-day dispatch... We were chill, shiver, exegetic sweat, backed- up interpreters put upon by sluff, none of us could say what was what. Pale admonishment poised upon lack, like to unlike, pale strain recumbent, re- combinant, rude amniotic straw... Took leave, leave long since taken, awoke to what would otherwise not have been. We contested birth, we wanted to be pre- andoumboulouous, done-dead gnostics again... Sound bubbled up, it kept bubbling, sonic residue, sonic remit. A fickle sonance, fraught sonance, warning we knew nothing, stick-figure entourage otherwise issue- less, beginning to be remiss it seemed... Erst- while ecstatics’ lapsed enchantment, trance gone none could say since when... Ghost of what lifted us, ghost what lifted us, erstwhile enchantment between... Fell back, full-out extended. Pilgrim someone called me, I said no, then I said yes... Brax was on the box was what it was, toned uncertainty Stick-figure counsel all air, edge, angle, down from where we’d been and we were again where the Alone lived, adage, had it not been so abstract, it might’ve been... Long day of the abalone-shell sunset... Stood among redwoods expecting the worst... What was of note and what abjured nothing. What was all, none, one, all the same _________________ It was a ghost of a trance. I was a guest of the trance. What went on we blamed on the ghost... It was the ghost of a trance, each of us a guest of the trance. No two times were the same... When we hit a wrong not we said nothing. When we hit the right note we said so what... Tell my horse, we were told, fluke solace, horse we were mounted by... What was done was done by the ghost, gray morning, blue morning, eternity be- tween _________________ Told my horse we would gather at Nod House, down drinks at the no-host bar. Dirt was in the drinks we drank, planet sludge. Double-take told its horse whoa, told it unwhoa, back and forth and back without end... Talk spun our heads, told our horses ride on. Unresolved which to insist on, stick with. Could it whoa unwhoa's ramble unresolved... Spinning heads made us feel we sat on swivel seats... Double-take talked us in, took us in _________________ Sat again at the same table, no two times the same, twinship long since gone. Leaned back, the back legs of our chairs broke, Nod House Nub's new address... A straining look made our faces look raw, made our skin flush... Dreamt each other's dream, donned each other's costume, hosted one another, one stepped in as one stepped out