Teaching mathematics on the blackboard deepens the curse of prophecy: everything willed will happen
The room is filled with motes hard as gold that must happen willful light that cannot not happen
So my eyes must narrow at the sight of you
So improbably beasts headed stiffly by human heads or the human-headed bull or the horse cursed with a spike in its forehead of ivory wander listless among barns and coops and pens their tracks in the tame snow wandering heavily homeward they butt with their monster or human heads the doors of ordinary enclosures cursed they rub their heads against the ordinary doors
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