The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

April 26, 2011

the construction of despair

around eleven, crying nevermore.
these cryings out among our universe,
for its crying out, nevermore among our universe, our
crying-out song for the unutterable suffering of the world

then the shell of the objects, attached to an untoward depth,
separation of cries and bodies, rejoined in universal display.
they can be moved. they stop for the image. they speak:
"we can be moved. we stop for the image. we speak."

fog and crying out

fog in west virginia as the camera rubs its eyes
oh it's hard to focus on existence, what you thought, slipped,
oh and then some

video from the virtual environments lab, crying-out version 2 or 3,
the numbers are lonely, the impossibility of the face never escapes,
torn open by threads (pull), thrown open by rods (push)

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