Sound blows the armor off 
And love remains from fire
Or rather phonemics
Like they were making space up 
As they went along phonemics
The place where the voice 
Is playing me a prosody of disaster
The regret in this light 
Too bright like bad faith 
Discovers command—
Expropriated camp and blues,
A reappropriation you can feel, pours 
This discovery over horns
And chicken scratch skronk  
Of a voice circa 1979 
Birth certificate of No Wave
Apotheosis of punk
 
No comments:
Post a Comment