Teleman
the transmission begins begining busting open. a dull thump. flat circuitry evokes three-dimensional
breath. the wires carry communication.the language alters the surface, but holds the root in place. a
resounding shrill. confuse the origin and the origin becomes confused. I am not mobile, but my signal
has become. to realize, then erupt and fade. a pattern will hold - the moment is contained in the shapes
that force trance to overwhelm. glass traps lightning. transparency is a way of not knowing. as you live
by the river you breathe and die near the clouds. a corruption disengages the link that binds birds to my
very spine. the words form then dissolve upon contact with air. I accept this as communication - the
distillation of meaning. I mean to speak, but I'm filled, doomed. though my words quell fear I become an
aspect of atmosphere. a repetitious example of chaos. truth is broken as I walk into somnambulist
heaven. a foreign known suddenly creates a domestic unknown. the miasma is large enough to swim in.
a loud belly thump. the brilliance of devising. the brilliance of movement. the brilliance of the distance
from here to forever or there. there where once you were here but now anew or the closer to the there the
further from here. there becoming here like rolling cigarettes in your mouth, or the inhaled fragrance that
brings an onslaught of pictorial. you allow transportation to occur. a vehicle built in blindness. more
unconscious than anything - the vehicle ferries feverishly. information is the cargo - is money to the
lost cockatoo. a classroom considers the differences between weather and climate, between individual and
community. a man jerks his arm letting his sleeve recede. it exposes a watch. he will read the time.
stillness is recurring. it is trigger to active sleep like my hypnogogic friend - he ponders descending
into the vortex. the credibility of an action is in question. it is a dubious act, but the best tree knows
nothing about itself. not the early 18th century telemann but an N has fallen, so teleman who resides at a
distance approaches as a breathing hull prepared to offer. people live along migration paths. they stop and
notice geese returning. the exhaustion and hope of spring. a dirigible cannot turn around in an alley, but
it can think clearly above the city. the drone of an idling bus. the bells of the braking freight. cities exist
on a triple axis. in the darkest of times you'll associate with anything. this is an inchoate transmission
deciding its next course of action - in a way, unborn. a surge enlivens the flesh. I transmit information
or I am receiving thought that has found no home. we tried being surreal, but would've been better off
dada. my physiology directly responds to the turning on of electricity. a valve at the back of my neck
responds. it constricts. I respond to the clicking of a light switch. I am responding furiously. the best
writing is a writing you stare at. silently ( and proceed from there) again a pleasing proportion. at a
distance you can mistake a pen for a cigarette.
eyes slowly
go therein.
when sleeping, the simple shudder of the body endures small deaths. by morning I achieve sun. the
completion of cycles or the wheel of life is something you dismount. - a conspicuous system of circles.
the dull thud of configurations forming.
bones make bones dry. I tap out my message, a morse code of vision drumming the retina. all the practice
is beginning to work. there is an ease, a familiarity. a door presently under construction. I will exit. or
enter accordingly. at a distance you are vulnerable. or flaws accentuate as you approach. I found a mystery
that means nothing and so what paranoia there is resolves in a harmless solution easily drained. the parcel
is en route from several locations. within it is an ingredient. the transmission upon us. the grand
traveling particulate lands (perhaps in the gaps between letters) and decants its communique. there are
weakened bonds that busily seek a level strong enough to assure continuity. whatever form language may
take it resists obstacles. I imagine teleman inside the circuitry - the embodiment of energy. language is
relentless. there is language in distance, in cloud formations, in the brilliance or shadow of light. there is
language in machinery, in food, in the act of involuntary and voluntary blinking. we, as an entity, are
language. teleman conveys the possibility of a myriad of simultaneous interactions. each as potent, each
as individual. I live at both poles - grounded and propelled is certainty absolutely relative or relatively
absolute? the cacophonous violins of favorite music. the swirling motion of whole galaxies. a
salamander disguised as stone. all emanations lose momentum at a certain distance. or uncertainty decides
my very breath. the rhythm divides. draws me to several scenes at once - stinging the fog the way sound
differs in other locations.
Copyright © Nico Vassilakis 1994
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