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The greyblack wastes feel different underfoot, than in the poem. Fractured metres jar the pace of a badly healed ankle. Beware now of darkness spoken, through a city veiled in colluding eyes. A face unknowingly recognised. Tracing itself into archives of self-evidence. In the light of failure, is the venture or the outcome more absurd? In dreams of familiar voices, we look for an echo of unfamiliar resemblance, a mirror-image to linger over.
Let blood be blood. Let it forge its own legacies by nourishing muscles into new movements, by priming lop-siped hemispheres for receptive imagination...
"Even at night,
a trace of sunlight hangs in the east.
Air creates an immobile, blue canticle."
… I still listen for a trace of Ingeborg — an apparition, disappeared into the walls long ago. I dream again and again of Emma's voice interlaced with music.
Killers were needed. And we heeded well the word of the old 'Homage': a siblinghood of equals thinking for themselves can become effective fighters just as quickly as newly-shaven heads can be broken and rebuilt into a troop of lethal boot-lickers. But it's not the time, it's the numbers. We're always too late to talk about time. The numbers subsume.
A few weeks ago I was concerned that I'd expressed my affection for one particular person too much. Now, tracking my uneven steps was the nagging certainty that I hadn't expressed it anything like enough. What cruel twist has you occasionally mistake a spectre of regret for a known presence approaching. Fate, we'd always said, was for us to imagine in the mind and make real in the world.
But again, it doesn't hold. If the only serious philosophical question really is suicide, then it's no longer solipsist — it's collective. What if the consensus is simply self-erasure? But then what is the integrity of a consensus reached under the influence of consumption. And the jagged terrain of all exploits kicks some into the hole before others. Until we all slide past the horizon, unable then to retrace our steps, to right any wrongs.
A fusion of ambient, classical, spoken word, and deconstructed dance music finds beauty and groove in glitches and pops. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 20, 2022
