(T)Here in the Hall of Records - an introductory poem
PZZZst.... (T)Here in the hall of records A radio-sound unspools like a silver thread. The sound is Pulled from the wheel And drawn from the horizon. It stretches out in a curved whole-note And always meets resistance from the static-frayed yarn Inhibiting this place. How many astronomers and poets Could not answer the Hexagonal Riddle? We cannot say, but they numbered many. They fell into an orb-webbed center And were caught on the convex surface. There, planets sequenced the space between Stars While discontented beetles Brought gifts to Ptolemy's wife, Queen of Cats. We're standing here, you and I... I'm 7 or 8 and pissing in the toilet. In that moment, I think, "I'll never remember this..." I think, "I'LL NVER REMMBER THS MOMNT." Ah, but I do... And you do, too. [Stupid things they offer in these moments!] The beetles gathered in columns and rows to carry The message hidden in shredded rags. The seamstress would take these rag