in a trance
before the electronic world
points, whirrs and clicks
tricks us into distance
yet brings new definition to what is close
we are the flowering cerebellum
hatching anew everyday
dancing in the rubble
still with cracks and dreams
of many lives
strands that pull the psyche back
to past ephemera : was / been
the not now
now this
this is the loud aloud
the noise of industry and circuitry
the ruckus of undergrowth
close to the roots
below the soil
in our own caverns and tunnels
excavated from a culture consumed
with consuming itself
now this
the sounds of central avenue jazz
resonant in the broken concrete
we complete some cycle of culture
and call you sodo
south of downtown
as some destined explosion of sound
underground
in the cool depths away from prying eyes
yet undisguised
open to the elements
but only to a certain few
you who come:
come! the new media circus!
the circle acts of light!
mark the walls!
plant seeds, caught thought, in this garden.
graffiti here on the body of zero-point,
the prophecies and profanities cultivated...
this is entwined manifest
every part and person strung together
in invisible ether
palpable - tangible through experience in the immediate
we make our now
from the burst of thought
given to another
given and shown
grown from indomitable chaos
wrangling the unseen into art
giving voice and validity
to periphery
that needs hearing
that feeds and clears the air
we.
making stories - our own origins
locating the soul on maps we craft
giving generously to the impossible
allowing expression to shape the moment
the movement
here at zero-point
all is one
lines are drawn and undrawn
lives are done and undone
but we will thrive
we are the strong
chosen by our own hands
creating!
this is a manifesto written to the world
this is a stream of a gathering entity
personhood confirmed through collective making
space as place for magic to occur
our new culture...
these are the mantras
the chants, the songs...
the world is ours too
and we are part of it