SOUNDS

Life is an experiment.

the senses, a stack of
moments collected
& laid to rest some-
-where obscure
and meta-
-physical, waiting to
be triggered back to

life
in a shocking
moment. These thoughts
& impressions are
collected into the
mind and spatially
they lie in the most

uncomfortable crawl
spaces of the
mind.
tiny little details,
sunken pleasures,
that
wet
cracking
sound
of paint peeling
off
a
roller

the feeling of
water
soaked
through the cuffs of
pant legs

the
smell
of
tobacco
when it's first lit

a
warm
sweatshirt

a spider web
walked
through
and tangled
up on
finger-
-tips

traffic

rain

the
whistle
of a train

cash
registers

and typewriters

a
standup
Bass

someone
w
e
e
p
i
n
g
softly

on of those
bells on
the door
of a
retail store

a
cold
greeting

SPLASH.

It's only in aging
where we realize
the incredible predictable
nature
of time
humans
and the society we live in

so to emerge from a
collector's Deco apartment
on West End Avenue
to a freezing
New York night,
a cocaine burn in the nostrils
and trailing red lights
one remembers the simplicity of action:

dig you hands deep into the
pockets
lower head
raise shoulders
and march persistently
towards the nearest
subway station.

~ Craig A. Platt
10.12.2010