Wednesday, March 4, 2009

muezzin lightning dust

hooters moan conducted 17 floors below, move along the street, flow to muezzin melodies side by side. beeps and bleeps pockets of space slice up time and remould new...and your in new york...the sounds chime through my ears vibrating my brain to stillness. everything seems to stop.fall i lay me head down to listen. i heard it coming from miles away, it thumped on my ear like a drum. i was picked out of everyone, so i listened on.took me out of a passion unimagined, and sent me on a search. and if he hadnt made me so damn mad i coulda made it out all my hands are holding this, and they seem to be looking still, they touch so light they could still be missed, as they feel on the dust below. found something tangled in spells, her voice still echoes clear, veils of colour covering eyes, as the world perceived obscures.
how is new york? you touch, go, touch, go... so far but by the speed of sound we hear

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