I was there, or had been. Always. That is, I was and am; there with the stony jars, the strangely vertiginous bees, the door where

D.G. Leahy refers to his work as “The Thinking Now Occurring” (which his students have come to refer to as “TNO”). This appellation is perhaps

1 The whole world in a mule cart pulling up the hill. Beneath the hill—Who? Pulling the hill up from the roots of it. Pegs

The Hermit Is it not sufficient ecstasy to live at the Rim, to find oneself a watcher on the labyrinthine passageways? Inside the circle of

1) The elixirs of immortality confuse even the gods. Who’ll scoop it up in a skull and stash it somewhere? How much do you have

Leahy Article

Canto How can I live   before this inquiry flushed through the body resolves itself in light without remainder and all detail flicker betwixt an essence