everywhere is local. earth...
is local. Junior Walker in Surinam.
nowhere where you aren't.
personal culture's airy entrail,
fine dust, fine mist, makes the
shadow of memory. careful,
it's you standing there. an assembly
of dots: constant dispatch and export,
and this includes the smile we take from time.
reading signs, never been lost,
it's all local anyhow, right?
reading signs had been prescribed,
application's local, right?
the dervish never sees the same thing twice,
he is the spinning galaxy in blues mode.
the Local God has a voice like Sara Vaughn.
the biosignature of the-mist-to-wave artifice.
after all, the song is local. right?
these coordinants have jazz in them,
thimbleberry jam from upstate Michigan,
particle analysis and the ecology of humor.
the dots shift en masse and everything is red.
pixels shimmering on the screen and the eye.
long distance is local...right? keep practicin'.
how's the "body" of your music? "what!
no six pack!?" paying for the pecs is local.
if i had a hammer, a real slick hammer,
i'd up the scapes one click, allowing
the ante to rear-end itself and make plain
the nuisance factor in object acquisition.
possessing the thing is local...right?