Language, meet not-language.
You did not believe it could exist,
but here it is, languageless,
in front of you. Behold!
Be held by its wordlessness.
Each unword can be a curd
to nourish you in your time
of less speed, less time, less rhyme.
Though silence always makes music
the tempo and temper of silence.
Describe, I know you cannot help it.
Know too that you cannot help it,
this creature outside the dictionary,
this thing that cannot even be called thing
because its rings do not contain material
do not pertain to arterials
do not retain cereals
and all the serial
becomes hyper parallel;
wires cannot cross
if they do not
persist.
Roman Ryan 