Wander Winds Myopic Song

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Richard Marchand
Our skin changes the colors in an electric wind; the plea of the unplugged body prone to silence

Of which, in an information era, these thoughts electric, this mind coded into strings of 0 and 1, a half-world ordered in sets of 8, 16 or 32, depending on you and the machines you use

All the noise that I have won't get to you this way, it lies nullified between this mind and its fingers

Here we weave noise and reason into a language machines do not understand

What is the language for the noise that we share?

2 Responses to “Wander Winds Myopic Song”

  1. Anonymous Anonymous 

    Does the sound like a thirst word?
    Does how it get it totally?
    A felt of song as you field my want.

    Can you root those insurrections?
    Air a decision, with adventure?
    The in me and the beyond and advance.
    Considering attain to cover the aim.
    Interior translations in balance.
    One another, an audible formula
    in a thirst that ties the light.

    It is how light you sing here held
    then continue
    and from our ease, spark the arc,

    james - who likes the pieces you have been putting up lately. I followed your link to Wittgenstein, and remembered this older piece I had written under the influence.

  2. Anonymous O'Grady 

    here we weave noise

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