I am reading books on physics that I do not understand. I am reading them in this man's voice. I am doing strange interviews with the wind, a pageantry of blissful madness played for empty stadiums. I am allowing to speak to me that which does not have a voice. I am deciphering codes and symbols. I am making up the future to understand the past. I am clenching pens and pencils like rifles at the ready. I am bewildered and frustrated and enraptured. I am a conspiracy of one. I am burning with a thing inside me. I want it to catch fire in you, too.
3 comments:
what books and what man?
i want to read them in that voice, too
A very old man. A grave baritone. A Swiss German accent. A sense of pain and urgency. A misanthropic but determined voice. A voice like clockwork.
and it probably will. if i know you at all.
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