Taking it apart piece by piece. Wire by wire. Roll the cabinet away from the wall. So many years gathered behind. See them again one last time before the cleanser begins to act.
Red. Black. Color coded demons with electric wings. The power button does nothing other than prove how dead it is.
Left. Right. A. B. Speaking in stereo, but listening in mono.
Analog is what we should be, but digital is all we have.
No picture now. Just the way the dust and shadows intersect. And images to anticipate.
Shimmy out the plug. Release the channels. Touch the flow of electricity still swollen within. As it numbs your fingers. Twists your skin.
Never time enough to learn. How quickly. Every lesson capsized before it reaches these beaches.
Leaning into the darkness of the shelves. Empty now. I hear the songs they once would strut. Graze the edges of the images that still linger at the bottom of its howling stomach.
The switch pops against my press and I know how untrue all of it is.
Too much furniture to move. Too many shelves cluttered with. We never change until it's forced upon us.
And even then.
I hear it, but I know it's not there.
I'd reattach the speakers, but they are too far away.
It's only music.
Just songs no one wants to hear.
Tuesday
2/28/2006 10:41:00 PM
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