The Black Ocean

Field Recording, Notes from the Machine

47 Field Recording, Notes from the Machine Flip the switch— [for fire for ice] Flip the switch— [and I am a stone in limbo] Flip the switch— [and I am all flawed form blackedout bluelines a blurry diagram of chalk] Flip the switch— [and I am a flayed daydream something barbed and luminous] Flip the switch— [and I am immaculate tessellated a sheet-metal overcoat lined in long needles] Flip the switch— [for fever for tractorlight for the cold compress of dusk watch as I dig the pit to slaughter the horses] Flip the switch— [for small miracles for electricity for the body open and shut] Flip the switch— [and the buildings sprout] Flip the switch— [for applause for a tickertape parade the cerulean sky infinite and without regret] Flip the switch— [and I am invisible] 48 Flip the switch— [and the buildings crumble] Flip the switch— [and they will kneel in the brightshards of glass they will pick their teeth out of the ash] Flip the switch— [for another rendition] Flip the switch— [and some cover their mouths and some cover their genitals and some cover their breasts] Flip the switch— [and some are in boxes and some are in piles] Flip the switch— [and my mind is a missile a green light threading a sleeping chimney] Flip the switch— [and my mind is a bucket and a board] Flip the switch— [and I’ll put their eyes out with a spoon and a song] Flip the switch— [and I’ll pour my cold blood into the astonished asshole of the mouth] Flip the switch— [and they will mistake me for the sea for something alive for something that cares] ...