On David McCooey's new album, The Double — a poem-response.
having listened
to the echo taking us back into its trust,
tremolo and sustain working the lines
of rooftops, the 'chimneys doing
their slow work', and taut
with continuance, the lava lamp
losing its grip on suburban manners,
left stranded in the restitutions
and deliverances of voice, I watch
an ambient sky with Western gerygones
taking in the east-west transit,
sparking across hindsight
and prospect, held as I am
in the hold of repressed longing
which lights up in a way
we can study slowly,
not the flash they
need turn away
(from) in the Guam horror
scenario. I will send
it out as resistance,
by proxy, hearing
everything drawn in
without the need
for a massive release
of energy — to hold
is to keep the song going
long, long after. Hold.
John Kinsella
The album can be found here.
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