|
|
|
Beauty 9:23 p.m. 2007-04-27 I am trying to decipher the static floating resonance in and out of aerial broadcasts and the towers are tumbling weaves of transistor radio feedback to the backlog codex of my memory. Wavelength and frequency, pitch... radar tonalities and the timbre of women's voices on landlines and satellites. Look out your window. I project digital feeds across the grains of glass and sand and i am transmitting the rings of amber around my eyes to distant thinkers and the fragile pulse of the stars. The sky is being painted in brand new spectrums and i'm trying to match the cloudtones and the stratus with the gentle humming of car engines backfiring over radio towers. I'm trying to trace the origins of these phonecalls, fragmented glance and whispered intonations. Imagine how many ways they say "iloveyou" and imagine only one of those vast infinities materializing in the vibrating thrum of my speaker. A billion people, a billion rise and falls on the meter and your's is the only "iloveyou" that means anything. So i bounce the frequency off waning moons and dip the distorted tones of your voice in quicksilver starlight. String your iloveyous across the midnight skies with a thousand thoughts and a thousand ringing lines, i'll send it to everyone and watch their faces from space when they answer their phones, 3am and quiet, to the gentle dripping sigh of your voice. And maybe then, when they all hear that intimate antiquity plucking your vocal chords like lace, maybe then we'll understand each other. back & forth |