By Mason Martin |
the feedback loop – audio the hair of a leg – animal
two transient, fragile vessels full of untouchable worlds, pulses and static, fraying along, obscuring radio vein, human wire, fleeing from silence, cognizance, sweat – entropy.
another arm pain – the heart this time?
just more swollen armpit. more
disturbance of the nodes. the loop resets, hums against it.
the world inside is an old fiction - a
decay endless and inevitable.
but what do you know? what makes you so eager to touch ghosts?
i see you hold the bell of the speaker like a child, letting it beat your heart for you. i see you toss the crusts of another sandwich. i see you stand in the shower as though water
still carried the myth of infinity, of surplus. i see you let the tub fill, considering the poetry
of the old radio, the old shame, the old trope.
cliché or cowardice; just let the thought
leech into the static – disperse into the universe.