1. A Compass Blooms
2. Head Of The Lethe
3. Rhetorical Vocative
4. Pervalent Brane Cancer
5. Encoding For Survivability

In the time that's passed since the last nucleation radiation, forces dark and wondrous have conspired to invalidate the crumbly metaphor, forcing the use of another. What's the use? Rice won't refuse, scattered by the handful or sleeping, steeping, waiting for thermobaric renaturation, perhaps hoping for a date with the polite intestine... or merely biochemical amylysis; what a ruse!

1. Cutoff Time
2. Anaquachromancy
3. What's That Trash?
4. Shelter From The Worm
5. Diamond Anvil Recycling
6. Monarchy Retirement Plan
7. Who's Bass Is It, Anyway?
8. Donald Rumsfeld's Omission

Since I spend too much time browsing, instead of dowsing, and I dream too far away instead of of the way, exactly which metaphor was met for which set is lost among the notational abuse and what's the use if we lack a track back? As before, the eradication of uncontrolled amnesia progresses at the speed of pitch black humor, stumbling over its own aggregates as it crawls ever towards the ever-shifting space-time fixed-point, but progress it must:

1. Spin and Yang
2. Division by Ego
3. Buffering Entropy
4. Germinating Legends
5. Singularity Dialogues
6. Industrial Uncertainty
7. General Intertextuality

Since I spend too much time thinking, instead of ACTSing, and I act too much against the page instead of with the rage, the real risk runs further than I even could imagine when I last tried to leave myself some crumbs; naturally, crumbs are for future children to follow, and when my inner child is marooned on Censure Island while the superegic callosum deludes itself into reincarnating the old fuck (since living out a century of "old manhood" is quite the cruel and unusual punishment), the proper response is to cast out another fistful of crumbs:

1. The Real Game
2. Noise vs Music
3. Money as Memory
4. Diffelor's Degree
5. Practical Numerology
6. Dancing with the Truth
7. Lies, Damned Lies, and Thermodynamics

Since I spend too much time editing, instead of publishing, and I edit too much in the mind, instead of on the page (whether paper, web, or virtual), the risk runs real of simply losing ideas to those natural shocks that make cowards of us all - just witness the day-score since my last post! - I'll thus publish at the very least this crumb collection:

1. Power and Pseudonymity
2. Value and Mutability
3. The Sound of Thought
4. Those Ills We Have
5. The Name of Action
6. The Dream of Time
7. The Point of Aim
8. The Game of Life
9. Cultivating Man

though order lies within the list above
you'll find it came not from the voice within
the eye adjusted till its needs were met
and fingers catered to its every whim

then lacking substance in so short a post
the poster went in search of rhyming words
no reason for each sentence to begin
no season for the fleeting life of birds

when writing sonnets, some will follow form
they rhyme in alternation, of a muse
others from God inspiration take
such clever, much despicable - a ruse!

yet here is found Umberto's key to fame
I speak of her, yet do not say her name