Field Recording, Notes from the Machine
Flip the switch— [for fire for ice] Flip the switch— [& I am a stone in limbo] Flip the switch— [& I am all flawed form blackedout bluelines a blurry diagram of chalk] Flip the switch— [& I am a flayed daydream something barbed & luminous] Flip the switch— [& I am immaculate tessellated a sheetmetal overcoat lined in long needles] Flip the switch— [for fever for tractorlight for the cold compress of dusk watch as I dig the pit to slaughter the horses] Flip the switch— [for small miracles for electricity for the body open & shut] Flip the switch— [& the buildings sprout] Flip the switch— [for applause for a tickertape parade the cerulean sky infinite & without regret] Flip the switch— [& I am invisible] Flip the switch— [& the buildings crumble] Flip the switch— [& they will kneel in the brightshards of glass they will pick their teeth out of the ash] Flip the switch— [for another rendition] Flip the switch— [& some cover their mouths & some cover their genitals & some cover their breasts] Flip the switch— [& some are in boxes & some are in piles] Flip the switch— [& my mind is a missile a green light threading a sleeping chimney] Flip the switch— [& my mind is a bucket & a board] Flip the switch— [& I’ll put their eyes out with a spoon & a song] Flip the switch— [& I’ll pour my cold blood into the astonished asshole of the mouth] Flip the switch— [& they will mistake me for the sea for something alive for something that cares]