Drone poem #2
It's Out of My Hands ( The Package)
A transmuting weight...
(palpable)
A quandary that belied the full appearance of _____ immanence
(The testimony redacted)
Unsettled, I trace this chaos, I linger within it, letting it overwhelm my senses. My emotions bruise me like a fist pounding flesh
Pound/ Pound/ Pound
This familiar entanglement, an unbridled moment of ambiguity, an irreducible complexity, always diffuse and chaotic. A certain feeling that obviates no matter how many times I might repudiate its presence. A compendium of expedition configured the encounter and its (in)finitude. Aberrant and lost within the queerness of its own compulsions...
an intimate agitation
(oscillating between a reflection of its own failure and the (im)possibility of redress)
always (an)other weight, heightened by expectation, bogged down by a wait. The wait, ceaseless and adumbrated.
...
With every crossfade, a lesson in disturbance
thought in black
(the cacophonous tirade)
a cantankerous dirge: from this place to elsewhere, there and back here (again)
Death alive was/ is the moment in black
A certain profundity
Imminent
Make an IED (Improvised Eclectic Device). Put it in a selfmade package and send it to the address below:
Dimensions of Package:
25cmx 25cm x 8cm
Jabu Arnell and Sinethemba Twalo
c/o Milena Maffei
Berlin Biennale For Contemporary Art
KUNST-WERKE BERLIN e. V.
AuguststraBe 69
10117 Berlin