|
|
 |
Skyscraper | mp3 9 megabytes |
| NEW! Where only the trees are skyscrapers. |
|
Osmose Woodfume | mp3 7 megabytes |
| NEW! For those long nights on the porch, sipping tea and watching it all melt away. |
 |
When The Spirit Moves Me | mp3 11 megabytes |
| From the soundtrack to the Rapid Movie Project's winter film. Close your eyes. Put on the headphones. Let yourself into it, and it will welcome you. |
 |
,8,1 | mp3 17 megabytes |
| growing like spongy membranes of emotional spuncake sourcesauce ,8,1 Infinite-pixel-width grid-based reality modification devices and willful manipulation of mindsilence ingrained outgained headache tomato punch. ,8,1 thought island tangents of insurmountable passages, language reengineering, spreading uniquely. To as it is, what it is and other phrases. If you hate the words, but want to act like you love them. From one place to another. From one story to the next. |
 |
Temponaut | mp3 10 megabytes |
| There are other spaces that fall on the graces of an unrecalled memory, but still--the traces a porcupine lawn under conscious night, punctures his pillow for every feather (as the wind picked up, picked up and blew her away) every design worth striving for. Are there other faces that pass by the graceless? is this just holding on to the handles commuter train, I'm going blind, and my tongue is old and tasteless. Send them in by threes, he or she or it that reaches out to discover my kingdom --turned away. The perseverance of the woman furthers. How long has she been standing on those mountains Her body like a stick reaching out from the molehills. |
 |
I Cannot Shape This | mp3 8 megabytes |
| My particular infractions are muted perhaps through alternate characters worry is the prime mantra now. Perhaps by a man-eating world, with window to watch the sky many things happening while I try to see them minute operas, the baritone singing day, and the possibility that it will end, muted perhaps through alternate characters. I cannot shape this, though I try. *** Part One of the This Is The Done Rope series. *** |
 |
Narrator (In Question) | mp3 6.69 megabytes |
| They are of information; life is a forest for upward mobility. The docking of them and not being a real problem for the galaxy, supposedly saved from beyond one voice in cereal bowls, egg timers, salad crispers, and one story to navigate those streets below. The Dissids as a true essence of race, of a secluded tangle of the corner. I was a tornado, not his doe-stuttered eyes to the top of the red line, on cowboy hats and he unites the episodic vibrations of Techra. *** Part Two of the This Is The Done Rope series. *** |
 |
In Exactitude As Kings | mp3 12 megabytes |
| Would he like it if I told him? Gertrude Stein posthumously collaborates in transition. *** Part Three of the This Is The Done Rope series. *** |
 |
Zeppelins on the Empire | mp3 22 megabytes |
| An Instrumental composition detailing a story narrated by a bar on the fourth floor of the Empire State Building, Zeppelins on the Empire. In parts: a. Doubt walks in b. Like the tall giraffe c. We are one hundred and two floors d. Bobby Masters inserts coins to continue e. Static electricity reaches for them like wet fingers from parking meters, video cameras, elevator buttons, and walkmans. Read along while you listen, or let your mind wander, creating your own story. Spoken word version also available: mp3 |
 |
Warming Transistors | mp3 16 megabytes |
| The latest thing I've composed, Warming Transitors is a complex journey through digitally produced sampling and processing. Using doppler effects, the feeling of constant motion is created, an impersonation of excited atoms. Musically designed in such a way that it explored moments of dub, ambient, and general twistedness. The narrator is in question often here, but the motors continue to rev. |
|
Sentaing Spiral Galaxies | mp3 17 megabytes |
| Imploding clouds surround me. My mind splits like an atom. When worlds merge there is oscillation, and we are only its episodic vibrations. Phasing between man, ape, and microorganism. The formality of actually occuring. My body lilted and transparent. I float away in a mess of words, my entire sentence sedated. --> Read the poem. Links to reviews forthcoming. |
 |
I Like Ike | mp3 15 megabytes |
| I'm horrible things happening. Many horrible things happen truly those involved -- place young animals who wound children, running. Read the poem, live the music. |
 |
the Reality Incompatibility Matrix | mp3 13 megabytes |
| We work in the business of destruction. Structural paradigms of systematic removal of undesired elements inform the operational standards of my particular practice. We all belong to a union, with certain protections under International Law that allow us to undertake our operations. While there is much controversy against our place in the clockworks, because of our union we hold confidence in our job security. We work in the business of concept dissolution. We work for the Consortium, and maintain the Reality Incompatibility Matrix. |
|
Allegiance | mp3 19 megabytes |
| How do you know when you've reached the next level? Be it when time dilation has grazed my constellation-grasping intelligence as I gaze into prisms formed by the mucous membrane landscapes that dominate the planes of existence I inhabit -- or, being less complicated than that, simply when I realize my karmic path? The Triangular Dissids of Issid, cast upon the visual matrix in front of me, an input to my output, the proof that binary systems only collapse like white dwarves waiting for the very last of its episodic vibrations to an ostrological end. I move my hand slowly, as if to draw my own name into the skies above me, my astigmatism fluctuating my vision, slowly turning the Techra into a transparent reality. |
 |
Cosmic Internment Camps | mp3 9 megabytes |
| I think that if you weigh the many options, you're going to just love your time at the local cosmic internment camp. There's one on every corner, for every persuasion of man, woman, and child--and you can choose from a myriad of concentrations to ease your monkey brain. Thrill as the monotony of life rips your pudding mind into shards of icantdothat, falling to modules of sweet--oh--my--darling, clementime. There are lines being drawn, and it's either on the sidewalk, subject to the mystery we must shirk or destroy, or on a fast elevator to the top floor going up, up, up. |
 |
Tiramisu | mp3 9 megabytes |
| Tiramisu, for time's sake, safety is found, held, & coddled Your collage explodes around you, injures my eyes, heals them, too, Tiramisu. Heals them too. Tiramisu, this is what is paved, placed in brick & cobblestone Some steps require safety, some steps are already completed For you, too, Tiramisu. For you too. Tiramisu, though the word is misused, I miss you & migrate Towards you, my wings flapping (waxy forms of light), I'll glide to Tiramisu. |
 |
the Time Dilation of Techra | mp3 14 megabytes |
| Video game madness. In overdrive. It's not enough to play the game, you have to be the game or else the game will take you over anyway. |
