incantations iv:
I feel all my childood & its dreams
in this video
my father
& his brothers
& their seventies stereos:
born into the space age
watching all the menus collapse
like when you plonk a person
somewhere
deep
IN SPAAAAAACE!
well, what does that make
synthesisers, then - pop?
billions of commenters
on the new tube [heya ... ]
& still you think
that's nothing special?
get this into yr thick skull:
it's all about the fucking comments
- all of them!
& when the melody collapses into now,
you'll know it!
you'll believe it, then:
crystal clear,
a memory of childood & its dreams,
the melody's menu shattered
& deep space empty except for
the one person in it!
o keyboard warriors!
sentimental new age jazz hearts!
interstellar phenomena reduced to saucepans & seas!
time-lapsed breathing
& our curled spoons of sleep ...
i'd cry GIVE IT TO ME, NOW!
were the sounds not already trapped
inside the machine;
we're just waiting
for the lights to go dim:
Another Aussie here
wiping away tears -
chil
dood.
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