The boundless enormity of the land of the great south,
that world that was built by a perfect accident
where geology cross-sectioned a metaphysical wind,
where intellect bisected beauty.
a place where everything was undone by the big arm,
and rebuilt on subtle gestures.

The Mallarmes and Debussys would have wandered naked there.
Bohemiens en Voyage and the great Tycoons Castle line the roads.
Here is where the whispers snowball into doctrines and manifestos.
The virescent distance accented by a myriad of unknown scents.
The great edges of cliffs, in there margins they are so infinite.
Grande Sur, The Great South.
It passes away in silence
The ground where folks retrace the steps of a prolific beat author
Or beat themselves up trying to rewrite a counter-culture's history
The great divide

The forgotten melody
the open wound covered in honey
The only place I know where the endings are the beginnings of something all the more infinite.
A treatise on modernity
A thesis on peace.

The boundless enormity of the land of the great south,
that world that was built by a perfect accident