The Implication

Where a word meaning meaning’s involved,
From hányì to infer, it seems so
Often it came from a container,

A culvert, a carrier, a jar
Of plaited clay enfolding the goods
That signs protect and make portable,

That mean things. Meaning’s then the balloon,
Burst but still with a limp existence,
Which Eeyore finds so satisfying

To put in and take out of the jar
That Pooh has emptied of all honey,
The sign, the name, the whole anecdote.

What’s inherent in the jar itself
Is its capacity for meaning
As a vessel for implications.

How could instructions enact themselves?
Ask the creatures of self-enacting
Instructions. HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDTH.

That must be how it goes, but somehow,
While there’s information in the jar,
The meaning’s now alone in the moon,

Unless you figure out what it means.
It goes in and out like anything,
But didn’t you bring it anything?