Composer :: Guitarist :: Improvisor
...empty spun-sugar shibboleth...
we also shape-shift at a distance
"Something understands," breathes the screen
...most of Us...
"Colors," he says to the screen's black lattice
i wanted to fly from the roof and i fell
...the string grids of excavators searching for weathered bone
...small dull smears of meditative panic
...the shifting jelly of heads looming over your little face
...and try to become the Light?
what the machine understands about you doesn't actually mean anything to it
dead on the surplus blankets
I Am\Never Was
Mal de Coucou