An excerpt from a long poem of the same name (consisting of 108 “beads”) that explores the memes of beads, strings, and primal sounds.
The songbird sings from his syrinx, at the bottom of his trachea, where the two bronchi become one. It is a hollow space framed by reverberant cartilage and smooth muscle tympanum. There are no chords to split and differentiate the breath. The tongue does not direct the sound, nor are there teeth for sibilance, nor labia for nuance. Continue reading “syrinx and systole, first three fragments”