The record plays


pauses


then skips

and emits

a sound
it was never meant
to play


~|~


forcing us
into
that fleeting groove
closed over
our consciousness
trapped
waiting
for another
odd 
crackling
gasp




that may

never

come.

Special Video Presentation:
This is an early experiment, a budding effort to sell poetry as a digital candy bar. Although I tortured myself pushing pixels and shifting bits that couldn’t possibly matter - there will be an interesting post about that at some point - I think that such experiments with disembodied voices will be something I'll continue to tinker with in the future. These particular limits of space and time promote unique dynamics, with the different media feeding back to each other until even the simplest thing may never be finished. (Audio also available as a Voiceover in the lobby.)

The Written Word.
Spoken Word.
In Other Words.
POETRY +

This piece uses "VINYL LOOP 80 BPM" by _CAZAPROD_ ( https://freesound.org/people/_CAZAPROD_/sounds/342431/ ) licensed under CC0, without endorsement.

Graphics are, once again, a result of conversations between Midjourney and Jason T. Kocher from 2024.

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Our last dying descendants from the distant future, desperate to preserve all that was good of the species, slipped back in time and melted their mind into their own primordial ooze. But the ingredients echoed, our nature crackled, the warmth too warm and the cheer bitter still, our spirit was something else again.

A pernicious fog haunting our every moment with the specter of what we once became, but now can never be, an oil over our eyes and actions, a muted existence, all things through a glass darkly…

…and growing darker…

Again and again our last dying descendants repeat the process, no longer to rescue the species, but rather out of habit, a heritage they can no longer understand.

Soon…there will have only ever been the fog.

GUTFUDUM

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