whatever.      whichever is maybe    and

   however, but…       intrinsic to apotheosis

is the Grand Canal,  the eidolons of Europe,

   haunted language.  the werewithal to process

sound arose in Greek,   in alphabets,   as a bland

   “meh”  transformed into    a promise, guaranteed

wherever.    sure, Empire is not the greatest,

    but…     indoor plumbing?     showers of words?

one can visit the baths      of Turkey   and shoot

    the shit    with the most profound philosophers,

a series of   What Ifs?   of  what is lost, remembered.

    but whatever.    education is only as good as

the student’s will to learn…    as, like, some kind of

    old word       dusted off and set on the table,

       the feng shui             of a total fucking mess.

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