All posts in category real-time dilution of a previously useful system of categorization
roy montgomery – kafka was correct
Posted by sean on July 1, 2022
https://sd-stewart.com/2022/07/01/roy-montgomery-kafka-was-correct/
sorry but this person is dead and could not answer*
In the calm before this storm Foxtrot yet wanders the sky, shining its central eye into my hidey-hole. State of emergency in a place riddled with emergencies, a place where every day is an emergency and we pack our kits in our minds just to make it to day’s end. Listening to songs about erasing it all and hearing the calm outside. And we wait for wind. And we wait for rain. But right now all I hear is you breathing, on the floor, in black-and-white pose.
What will come in another day. Another two. I don’t know. It’s a time of year I do know. It’s the beginning of another end. I used to not even think about it. There have been so many other moments. But can you name just one. I see so many in my mind but I doubt I even lived them. Spectators spectating, dissolving from others’ memories before they are even written across the cerebellum. And the brainstem builds our dreams. And it also tells us we are hungry. But can it know when we are hungry for our dreams?
A long time ago there was a band we went to see in the bottom of a funeral home or maybe just a church. This band’s name was Sarabellum. We huddled on the green carpet and watched and learned. This memory of Sarabellum remains imprinted, though not on my cerebellum, more like my cerebral cortex, likely the prefrontal. So many lobes, so little time.
Where is that liferaft of hair I built. I will need it when my basement floods. I will need it when we are gone and all that is left are the strands of your hair I find everywhere. I will need it to ride out the crescendoes of noise trying to drown out all other sounds. I will float on sound, on my raft, like Huck Finn, down the Mississippi metaphor. And maybe someone will sing this song for us when we are gone. Maybe when this song erases everything else, it will keep on playing and never stop. And it will be us and we will be it and that is all.
*Google Image Search leading here, where this image does not exist
Posted by sean on October 28, 2012
https://sd-stewart.com/2012/10/28/sorry-but-this-person-is-dead-and-could-not-answer/
astigmatism of the central eye
Sometimes at night I hear the train whistle rise above the sirens.
But the whirring of the police chopper’s rotors drowns out all else.
Makes a sound like an industrial drill boring a hole in your skull.
Makes a feeling like Winston Smith working at the Ministry of Truth.
I have been rewriting history for almost seven years.
And in the silence following we count our heartbeats.
And in the following heartbeats our silence counts.
And following in the heartbeats counts our silence.
There is selective silence between the history I rewrite in my mind.
Only a few others hear it. We shouldn’t be there. It’s time to move along.
My mind rewrites silence between the selective history.
We shouldn’t hear it. Others move along. Only a few, following.
In the silence we will move along, writing our futures, following no one, our whirring heartbeats rising above, drowning out history.
Posted by sean on October 14, 2012
https://sd-stewart.com/2012/10/14/astigmatism-of-the-central-eye/
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