featuring outcomes of attempts to explore at least 579 Possibilities of a Limited Fork Theory page system
26 October 2010
Noise of Emergency (hałas wyjątkowego)
Flier posted on Emergency Room Wall, Krakow "POLICE MEMO: This boy's corpse [or body?] was found in a pond on March 19, 2010 in Cieszyn.
If you know this boy, tell the police." mp3: hałas wyjątkowego
(posted on fb, then it disappeared, then re-appeared. which was weard.)
...
damn... lovelovelove this... so much to--say/ask--
was this the dream? what's being sung? ...poltergeist. poltergeist-- then, intestines. on a table, gutted. something must be purged? ghosts? guts? then, hallways. long enough to fall into each thread/note/layer... and found myself trying to focus on one, felt as though i was following a girl through a crowded sidewalk, weaving in and out through the other bodies (voices, songs), but then losing her, then finding another--bright coat or trail of perfume or windblown scarf brushing my face--catching my senses, so I follow that for a while, I follow her for awhile, and I follow her for awhile, (andherandher) snaking my way through the maze of ghostnoise....
and... uh... where was i?
oh yeah. this is awesome. you're awesome. thank you. you know. for being.
(p.s. christine hume has this poem in her book 'shot', played through with bass guitar strum willowy girl voice distortion forest rabble and echoes. i need to hunt it down for you, you gotta hear it...)
(posted on fb, then it disappeared, then re-appeared. which was weard.)
ReplyDelete...
damn... lovelovelove this...
so much to--say/ask--
was this the dream?
what's being sung?
...poltergeist. poltergeist--
then, intestines. on a table, gutted.
something must be purged?
ghosts? guts? then, hallways.
long enough to fall into each thread/note/layer... and found myself trying to focus on one, felt as though i was following a girl through a crowded sidewalk, weaving in and out through the other bodies (voices, songs), but then losing her, then finding another--bright coat or trail of perfume or windblown scarf brushing my face--catching my senses, so I follow that for a while, I follow her for awhile, and I follow her for awhile, (andherandher) snaking my way through the maze of ghostnoise....
and... uh... where was i?
oh yeah. this is awesome. you're awesome.
thank you. you know. for being.
(p.s. christine hume has this poem in her book 'shot', played through with bass guitar strum willowy girl voice distortion forest rabble and echoes. i need to hunt it down for you, you gotta hear it...)
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