IN THE MANNER
OF A CAVE MAN
Excuse me then for not getting up; I haven't yet
determined the means for my mobilization, how
can I, how should I, be moving. Not yet known.
Yet I am, psychologically speaking, somewhere
from the depths of my being learning that the
sabre-toothed tiger will quickly teach me.
Okay to that. I shall acquiesce. It also
has come to my attentions : looking up,
starry night skies, day has light, morning
is damp, and each day enters its ending and
then just does it all again. This confuses only
a little. When things move, I notice as well,
they take their image with them. Now THAT
at first perplexed me - I recognized the
sight of what I saw, but then it went away
as only the presence of it, but not its
concept, left my space. Why would
that not stay? I haven't had an
answer yet. This world is
filled with moving images
of things? Or are they,
after all then, real
as well wherever
to where they
move?
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