Monthly Archives: June 2013

Untitled 6

How many events took place
in order
to bring us to this collision, this
this shared silence
this moment, frozen

How many other possibilities
beyond this one
like guests in Hilbert’s hotel
oblivious to this chance meeting
drift past, waiting
shifting from option to “could have” to regret

They might all exist somewhen
but for now, we two will never know
another outcome.

Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

A mixtape of remembered sounds 2

  • Car engine backfire immediately followed by one pigeon’s wings flapping above the opposite side of the street, early morning [Chicago]
  • Arrivals/Departures sign flipping in Gare du Nord [Paris]
  • Tapping on bee hive sculpture at Old Colony [Minneapolis]
  • Abandoned museum basement drain pump [Grand Rapids]
  • Disco boat music abruptly stopping, DJ making distorted announcement in Arabic over PA system [Cairo]
  • Drawing class using charcoal pencils on textured paper in art museum gallery [Milwaukee]
  • Metal book truck with squeaky wheel [Chicago]
  • Bowling ball in gutter, crowd going silent, one person slowly applauding [Ann Arbor]
  • Miniature steam engine train in Schlossgarten [Karlsruhe]
  • Late night thunderstorm [Corfu]

Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Untitled 5

The murmuring crowd swirls, ebbs, parts
factions flocking from gallery to doorway
finally leaving me alone with
the interred (installed) body of the old woman: wife, mother, and grandmother
now dry with natron, wrapped in linen,
arms extended, palms on thighs,
eyelids painted with false eyes, always staring but never seeing.

Overhead, a dying light fixture
buzzing, flickering, humming
as I stare into the once-new vitrine that acts as
a surrogate coffin, yet another “final” resting place
waiting to be replaced.

How many others have stood
beneath this same electric light (it was brighter and steadier then)
gazing at this same dessicated face
within the dusty glass sarcophagus, and also wondered at their ability to touch
a capsule filled with mute history? Who else has thought those ancient lips 
look like torn strips of parchment
containing stories forever untold? 

Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Untitled 3

Bits of a diminishing din
despite their intention
these patterns drift aimlessly, beginning somewhere unknown then ceasing to be
repetitious, becoming instead a series of fits and stops —
pauses and actions,
moments and timelessness,
floating before, through, and beyond.
Are they ending or just moving out of range,
dissipating or merely being replaced?

Their tragic trajectory from attack to decay
yearns to be collected and preserved,
begging to be caught, like dust in a filter
as if, along with their unique identities within a greater ambience,
they are also whispering pleas to be saved.

At least they are to these ears.

Why follow this urge to collect? What is the point of preservation?
If a tree falls in the woods, should someone record it?
Why bottle up these moments only to have them forgotten without
a guarantee of their rediscovery?

Because there is a chance
to reach across time, to touch someone
you will never meet
and let them know that they are not alone.

Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

A mixtape of remembered sounds

  • sheets of drawing paper being wrapped with butcher paper in an art supply store [Amsterdam]
  • weathered strips of plastic tapping a metal railing in a stiff breeze [London]
  • underground cable system leaking through a vent in the sidewalk [San Francisco]
  • ticking from an unknown source, frozen food aisle, Dominick’s [Chicago]
  • straining plumbing in the Townhouse Gallery [Cairo]
  • grandfather clock striking the quarter hour, living room [Milwaukee]
  • wind through a stack of metal tubing inside the Parthenon [Athens]
  • passing train on a spring night [Ann Arbor]
  • joyful chaos inside the Pinball Hall of Fame [Las Vegas]
  • vocal practice by a singer before a wedding ceremony in an empty monastery church [Maulbronn]

Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.