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A Response

LOVELOCK   I am in a frequency room. Eyes bombed by the colour frequencies, short and long. The modulating waves spray my ears. All travelling invisibly. Held by the brush mark, the sine wave. Their bounce a play of vibrations. I listen for the pathways.   I try to pave the skips and bits that datafy the particle paint culminations.  Generate the envelope of  tingling pigment. Fragments push which on grasp ,  slip limp fuzz ,  move over ,  overflow.   I am sucking up the haptic.  The  gestating gesture, mark by stroke. A signal flow, I listen for the exchange .  The telegraph receiver.   Emotions, feelings held in the shifting resonances. Scratched by grasps, tests, tastes. Amplified. Cast into the open holding.  The elemental states. Eruption. Patch. Filter. Decay. The attack.  A ground for the circuit . The shift. The return. The simulacra and the real. The modulating synthesised synthesis of time, memories, images. Shift the foreground, the background. Find a space to disappear. Sta

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