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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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