The Tell-Tale Tinkle

for Blanchot, je suppose

 Tinkle-thought tinkle-thought tinkle-thought.

Your thoughts. Your thoughts. Thinking. Which course?

Any course, of course, your thinking thought will course. Any thought your thinking might enforce or reinforce will pass through its course, of course. Come out New without remorse in course. From its coursed origins divorced. Only the contexts suggesting its future course. Future of the New anew. Course. Through thinking is thinking thought thinking in you. No reason for recourse or school.

No recourse to reason or reasons. There are no rules. There are only. There are only.

Only to think it and have its thinking bury its reason in reason’s treasonous usurpations. The New anew serves new ends. Thinking will thinking end. Only thinking will thinking end for nothing shall propound nor condescend to thought upend, in course. Only thinking will think through space and mend all the mending, preponderance of condescending in course, of course. Your thoughts.

Nothing may impose end on thinking save the whole of thinking thoughts. 

The whole of thinking thoughts unblinking nor yielding to form. 

Conforming to forming with substantial forewarning. Forearming. But only thought in thinking will think an incision or draw a connection or too many to mention. With its course uncentering, encountering, and ever so in course, no willful invention will thinking intention. Seldom can there be an intervention.

With no allowance will thinking endow us. Its winter will think ice and gale force. Thinking won’t think nice when thinking thinking’s ends. In course nothing mends. Your thoughts. Of course everything ends. Ends through thinking. All at once. Thinking thinking, tinkling. One thought ending all thinking. Every now and then. In course. It happens. It events.