What are these writings? Aphorisms? Cryptic telegrams? The sound of one hand clapping? Perhaps all the above. What John Thompson once wrote of the ghazal seems to apply here, as each disjointed fragment allows the imagination to move by its own nature: discovering an alien design, illogical and without sense -- a chart of the disorderly, against false reason and the tacking together of poor narratives. It is the poem of contrasts, dreams, astonishing leaps.