Do The Echoes Fidget For Passports?
I had some leftover tracks kind of just there, napping atop my current ableton project 27 Jewel, from which emerged songs "Praise The Dead (Lion's Gate)" and "III Wands". The remnant tracks were each about seven minutes long.
Without thinking, I dragged the project tempo from 96 to 160, brought in a shortwave radio field recording I'd made on 10/08/2024 (just now noticing as I write this the precise 10 month span between that recording and this moment), applied some processing, and the thing felt "done" so I got to thinking about title...
I opened my Water Pages (2008) poem tome on my phone and gave a hearty forefinger scroll to a random spot, looked down, and read, clear as salt:
frame the seven minutes in a faster Now
"I, uh, just did that..."
So I took the opening line of the poem as title and that's how this one was done. It feels right. It also feels like the poem written in 2008 was written so as to speak across time from a then-now then to a then-future now. I've often had this experience of writing for a not yet, of writing for an off-time. Or perhaps might it be so that all creation without exception has one foot in the Eternal which gives rise to all things? In any case, it feels very much like the first time I had Gushers when I was 9. A true treasure.
To add to Wordborn:
truesure [n] the gushing pleasure of gratitude felt in moments that reverberate with uncanny truth
So here's the earful. Below that still linger the words from another time. Guess that makes me... what? Something bridgelike? A thought for another time.
Do The Echoes Fidget For Passports?
recording 35,000 falling feet
moving forward
toward forgetting
pressing STOP
previously:
killed days with giant unravellings
destroy the re-cording
frame the seven minutes in a faster Now
open christopher's round face in a
round hand moving off a
round page with
round delay & slowly rising reverb ur ation
1 5 or 2 7
turn right at the mirror
follow the light
the rest is going to spring forth wakeful clues
three bark
an outstretched paw
the phone, the location says
no more
i'll be in my stolen sugar
sipping with the ants
i'll swallow the tide and pull
at maps of everything with crossed
fingers and find CONNECTIONS
and get back
to getting used
to it