You know ee cummings better than I do? That poem is basically the antithises of your flowery diatribe, sun moon stars rain.
That poem and my post are
complementary parts of a greater gestalt, the crazy quilt mosaic of life that embraces and transcends seeming contradictions in an ever evolving dialectical process, thesis, antitheisis into synthesis, known in the East as ying into yang into yin again, each seeming opposite
always containing the other, something you have yet to grasp.
First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is.
One of the best definitions of intelligence is that it's the ability to hold two seeming contradictory ideas in your head at the same time.
Grow up and spend more time in the real world,
then maybe we'll talk. You're not nearly as precious and precocious as your mommy believes.
You take but one side and strut your yip yap yowl. You
think you know ee cummings.
You don't know shit. His love for America is my love for America, writ by a different hand:
"America makes prodigious mistakes, America has colossal faults, but one thing cannot be denied: America is always on the move. She may be going to Hell, of course, but at least she isn't standing still."
You don't see and you don't know and you can't
feel his love for America, which is
my love for America, because you're a callow little twerp with a hard on and nothing to stick it in. Throw a towel over it, Pancho.
The signal difference between you and me is that I know what I don't know, while you are full jejune certainty. Look out where you're going, Leroy.
As I sd to my
friend, because I am
always talking, -- John, I
sd, which was not his
name, the darkness sur-
rounds us, what
can we do against
it, or else, shall we &
why not, buy a goddamn big car,
drive, he sd, for
christ's sake, look
out where yr going.
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