Poem.

So here is a rather recent poem that I've recorded. This was a part of a group exhibition which included a podcast component. To download or listen to the podcast go here.

Here's the text:

Within the Tome

and I open the book

[pages slip in to fingerprint trenches]

to the place where I left

an insect paralyzed

by the weight

poise to purge its corpse

from the margin

hesitate before

the frail life and

reach my hand -

In its tiny body: my tiny soul.

pray over this death

and set the remains

entrenched

in literature

to be found

in hands yet naive