More positive signs than there are in heaven, thenight falls on your hair like tiny secrets sleeping soundly behind thehedgerows. This night, unperturbed by human problems, goes deeper into thefilms of Jean-Luc Godard, that enough quietude questing to reveal itselfindustrial & Surrealist in the distant alphaville of consciousness.
&&&& TEN PER(S)CENT
Night as a self-portrait of silence: your scentednight of many forms, I guess is happier now than the music the night skyborrowed from chance. Your life’s vision is far dystopic than vegetarian zero,far more cerulean than the lagoons in Vang Vieng, Laos. But your woe, oh yournumber two woe is to be predetermined by the colonial past, & by aparade of tuktuks with bamboo cages of fireflies, ambition, &ersand after ampersand. Tout va bien!
&&&& AM PERSON: I
From my knees to my nose, from the sighs of a song, Ihear a silence that knows of a dream
that can’t be sold, & that for me you livein the real world. But for these past few days it leaves me alone. It sleepsoff fiction & leaves me alone. Among the broadswords of your iron &lyre, your songbirds & their flesh of words, you may have read thesigns wrong as I watch the sky. You may have sung the wind’s blues so wild eachtime, & I just smile.