A lie is a state of movement. It has a before and an after, cut into the now.
Wait, what is it?
“I know it when I’m not asked”
But our fathers never told us what it means to lie. They never asked.
Could we say that our fathers lied?
But what are these lies really
And this haunts Augustan
The lie as rooted in time
There is no dependency on movement in time, when Jericho stops; there is no movement.
The lie in motion is made different by its movement
Like a set of wipers onto the world.
That was a lie
I used to beg the Buddha
To change my windshields