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]
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