7.19.22
Conducting her self-made orchestra
Improvised instruments among a scavenged heap
Beauty in insignificance
The star above
Visibily intentional, intentionally visible
Blink along to the tapped-out melody
The conductor's lights
Call attention to her swaying hand
Directing the chorus through her urban escape
The silence returns
The conductor leaves
The instruments return to life
Without an audience
Conducting her self-made orchestra
Improvised instruments among a scavenged heap
Beauty in insignificance
The star above
Visibily intentional, intentionally visible
Blink along to the tapped-out melody
The conductor's lights
Call attention to her swaying hand
Directing the chorus through her urban escape
The silence returns
The conductor leaves
The instruments return to life
Without an audience
7.19.19
Along the road, blinking lights flicker in and out of existence. From a distance they watch me, hundreds of little lights flickering at once. Through the trees they peer, never fully blocked by the flat terrain. The towers they sit upon guarantees they will be seen. For miles they stretch on in some vain attempt at uniformity. Their periodic apearance breaks through the dark of night in a steady mantra of "I am here. I am inescapable." Looking at them for an extended period of time while in a moving car grants the illision that the lights are slowly but steadily moving. Not towards or away from me, but moving nonetheless. I am unsettled, and yet I cannot look away.
Along the road, blinking lights flicker in and out of existence. From a distance they watch me, hundreds of little lights flickering at once. Through the trees they peer, never fully blocked by the flat terrain. The towers they sit upon guarantees they will be seen. For miles they stretch on in some vain attempt at uniformity. Their periodic apearance breaks through the dark of night in a steady mantra of "I am here. I am inescapable." Looking at them for an extended period of time while in a moving car grants the illision that the lights are slowly but steadily moving. Not towards or away from me, but moving nonetheless. I am unsettled, and yet I cannot look away.
2.26.19
An empty skeleton, surrounded
By the dust of ancient paths
Considers its history
Beneath the time-shifting sands
An empty skeleton, surrounded
By the dust of ancient paths
Considers its history
Beneath the time-shifting sands