Hearing the off-off-beat rhythms,
sonic schisms. Hear-
ing the syncopations out of
diasporic nations: ah, the
daughters sweat when they dance
and they laugh into lances of light. Ah,
the world, too much, in its trembling
under the weight and the hate
of its machineries: beat-
en down. One mind's
a mental gleanery, a picking up
of bits from a mowed-down
psychic scenery. Hear-
ing sounds made of sounds recorded
sounds effected now, an overlooping
digi-lapping mix-re-mixification,
queen and princess and
good king syntheslaus
at the feast of even beatsintune.
Hearing
the on beat, off-again
ch- ch- ch-echoing
in the chambered
arterials,
air-displaced materials,
endless musi-chilled imp-
rovisations,
hearing.
hans ostrom 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment