I
January February March April May June July August
eighth month of the year
August August August August
August has thirty-one days.
It starts at the first day, designated by the symbol 1
and ends on the thirty-first day, designated by the symbol 31.
The second day, 2, follows the first day, 1.
The third day, 3, follows the second day, 2.
This pattern of days with an incrementally increasing numerical value
following days with an incrementally increasing numerical value
continues until we all arrive at the thirty-first, the final day of the month.
Progress is being made.
Surely thirty-one is greater than one.
August has contained within itself three full weeks.
"Full" meaning that it contains seven days:
one two three four five six seven
and then two other weeks,
the Alpha, the Omega, the dawn, the dusk,
the invocation, the benediction,
one two three four days in the first week,
one two three four five six days in the last week,
both weeks being somewhat less than full
as previously defined.
Yet the first week of August
and the last week of August
are full in a diffferent yet equally valid definition.
They are full in the sphere in which they were created.
These weeks are stones that sleep by creeks.
The first week of August
and the last week of August
kick not against the pricks of the Calendar,
the Calendar on which their powers are represented.
These weeks submit themselves to the Calendar,
they submit to the Fullness,
and the days, the hours, the minutes, and the seconds
within the first week of August
and the last week of August
all submit themselves to that
higher, fuller category in which they are placed.
And why do they submit?
Because each second, minute, hour, day, and week
have tasted a portion of the Fullness,
ingested its delicious cosmology,
and therefore know from unmediated experience
that their place is their place indeed,
and they are themselves indeed,
and they and their places submit
and are submitted to according to the
wisdom that exists within the Fullness.
We say that the first and last
weeks of August are Full,
for once any measurement of time
has taken a nanosecond of Fullness
into itself, (and all measurments of time have partaken,
instantaneously, simultaneously, at the dawn of creation,
of the Fullness) is itself Full.
Hear the grand secret, you who have stopped
this moment with me to feel blindly after August,
who long, as do I, to pierce its representational facade,
to tear down the symbol and let the kernel be revealed:
Thus saith the Fullness:
"Offer burnt offerings to the symbols
that have guided you thus far.
For an offering, you shall offer
your mind's only begotten son, Error."
Each week is a loaf of bread.
August is also a loaf of bread.
II
August never has a leap day,
it never has a holiday,
nope, it never has a holiday
it never has a holiday for sure
never never never never,
unless you count Purple Heart Day.
But a holiday is only a holiday
If the eyes of a child sparkle
upon hearing the name of the holiday.
Purple Heart Day, honesty brings me to say,
elicits no sparkling adolescent eyes,
no shrieks of joy, no giggly wiggly butterflies
fluttering about in the little stomachs of little people.
(and no offense to midgets, by the way)
Their hearts are pure; their hearts are purple.
Purer and purpler than my heart;
Purer and purpler than the hearts
of those who fritter away the days
reading preposterous poems about August.
And I mean no offense to the day designated
to honor the peculiar color of some people's
blood-pumping, ever-thumping, fist-sized organs.
Howsoever and nevertheless and notwithstanding
Purple Heart Day is better known as Tuesday, August seventh.
What's a calendar anyway
but a social construct?
What is a quote social construct unquote,
but yet another social construct?
ggrrrtttttthhhhhhhh husshhhas
ummmmpppphhhtthrrrrummmmmm
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