Backing Vocals
To accuse a thing is to remember it
Sometimes I notice things around me after they’ve already happened. Like I’m far away watching myself from a telescope whose light is late. A little bit of matcha, a little bit of human voice. Formed in a language impenetrable but familiar. A firm foundation fixed deep in soil with concrete piles, the great redwoods of California lumbered for this stage upon which some lead vocalist appears, moves air around, and disappears again. To accuse a thing is to remember it — or maybe I got that backwards. In fact I have climbed to the bottom of the slope. I worked hard to reach this low. It gives me life with such depth. And in the endless queues of signal, rocketing through space and shedding their skins to announce their luminous presence-- - I am brought to you by ever-more-sophisticated arrays of dashes and dots. Interpret this however you will. Fugue will be upon you late in night’s annals and you will wish for some voice to move either below or above.