The London Hours, 2012


I went to look for soul
it’s a music I was told
I hear nothing with my ears
hearing voices is bad
it’s rhythm and blues
I have no rhythm when I’m blue
I lay paralyzed
in panic
a void.
With soul the body moves
improvising on
vocal tension
I improvise often
don’t feel like clapping
air or silence or loss or hollowness
we must intend differently
yes, an internal principle
reached not
by human


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