Of stored change ,a transmutation
A self motion, a radio talking to night
Scrap of song that starts in its sleep
A rapid moment in sleep’s eye- face.
In the stillness of a night the objects
Cry out, dance mature nature to life
Singing human songs mostly of flesh .
A flesh sets the word chain to music
A milky way of endless light sounds.
Like a breeze blowing in tree clusters
Flesh is object in a cluster of sounds
A song without its literature, a sound
Of a subject that is at once the object
A song that sings itself to object-hood.