TOKYO STREET POEM:

Woke up before asleep, sleeping when walking. Body shaking, all the
head wires disconnected, a thin wining sound emanating from a ragged
hole between the ears. Dark light spills out the mouth on the days
when I’m drowning. No explanation on the box, no words to describe
this sensation other than ‘fighting for air’. Just work, tick things
off lists & keep moving. Keep the mouth shut when it wants to speak.
Make art, smile, move around, make the limbs do the talking. People
are pleased, happy, shake hands, smiling, nod, make approving sounds,
sign off. This is good, the best use for a black hole.
The installation is installed. Just waiting for speakers from B&W to
carry Rick’s soundscape & then we’re done.
A hand written message on a wall left behind to let people know
we were here.

(K)