The Capital

As a realist, I know the window I look through is or reflects the image of the Capital.  There is a captivating feeling and then as a paranoid, I know they have their eye on me,  After all I have discovered the Echo...the language of the gods, or gold.

Alogorythm

of statistical allusion, the writer is the observer, royalty.

Time says it all,

for the musician and the mathematician,
the two have frames of reference for the heart of harp and variable, for the hope.  Who else but a social worker?