The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive


i will call you on a telephone
you and i are all alone
in the midst of battle you can hear the rattle
of magneto churning bell loud in all this hell
you'll answer it.
halloo halloo i'll say and a moment after
it will be the time of all the slaughter
in the meantime, laughter.
you'll joke in bad english, french, hebrew, japanese,
you'll say whatever you please, the state, it's me,
something about liberty, secret countdowns,
and underground it's all you, i'm at sea perhaps
or come unglued, the phone cranks and creaks,
condensers leak, but only slightly. they're ungainly,
these EE-8s, need wire, secret calls and cells.
something tells me you're not there, a microphone
hidden and reporting home (i mainly grasp at straws):
'there are no laws.'
*/recording made with WWII EE-8 field telephone/*

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