Reeks in here, and whatever magic I once associated with the coin operated bandito seems destined to a short shelf-life.
Until I make the call.
Micro-macro trickle down economics here, chitlins - moose head silver slivers the box and starts a mechancial supply and demand chain reaction from deep within. Metal to metal to electric signal to the switching station to point B and now as I hear her answer
I see four ladders stretching out from each side of the phone booth, right-angling up and converging like a great french braid; exploding in fanning filaments and
she's sending signals back now, signals *within* the signals; emotion through the electrical and
the filaments are awake and searching, spiralling upwards, sensing her movement
which is coming from letters now, ascii ghosts dancing the periphery between the physical and the sensed
And outward, looking down, it is a web now; filaments and letters entangled in an impossible wireframework; two lovers connected and the filaments are lit and there is esctasy and mystery not bound by space or time but by
the click of a receiver and a port sealing itself from the world.
tee-ha!
Monday, July 12, 2010
Non local
Labels:
*Prose,
*Riffing,
ascii ghosts,
filaments,
nonlocal,
phone booth,
phonecall,
texting
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