Over that is over and over

"Having surpassed the time for comprehending the moment of concluding,
it is the moment for concluding the time for comprehending. Otherwise,
this time would lose its meaning."
--Jacques Lacan


they are aware
made intelligible, small town
objects

of the singular
mind in the hooded concrete
and the swept floors

the generic
workman bones, but with a feeling
of the timeless

fish-line

and a fine black thread
stone love stone

they appear
to emerge, talked for an hour
indignantly

with copies
of the absolute, talked
of the blank page

they recited
gathered and dismembered
clusters of Ur-speech

and Hegel whispering
in their ears

spoke of the voiceless

value, attached to the surface
of a missing limb
they tried to disguise

on the threshold

credulous people

their blue-shirt
reputations
the brain-swinging

forest
in which they clump

measured by rightness
a world of sense
the pure form

of this conception
neither recognized

nor defineable