He called the universe a positive word. 
 
Reading and living are continuous variables 
That ontologically under-simulate his few senses.  
He should be furious w/ the authentic world w/ dogfood dishes. Be  
Angry at literal keyholes, too, w/ their conservative  
Counterviews to earnest alignment as his new parts pull up,  
A parallel prowess of floating unquietly  
Into apothegms, into sidesteps of fine voice.  

Keenau is still guileless, a pious, ethereal hulk in a collapsing bug life.