Monday, December 15, 2008

I wrote this when i was watching Jeremey play the organ in a small church

The moaning mouth emits what is contradictory.
Long pipes taper to cylinders downwards forming pointed teeth.
No mark of fangs, a softened gape.
The man beneath the pipes has a yellow light fallen on his shoulders. an aura around the neck
No halo.
In the glass panes beside him the viewer seated behind sees spiders dancing frenetically over the keys.
up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down.
The viewers pulse is caused by conjured images of phantoms.
Ghosts bursting through the pipes.
The spiders curse at wrong stepping.
The viewers heartbeat continues.
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhoooooohhhhhhhhh the organs mouth wants to say and the player allows it.
The sound rises, escalates in motion through the belly of the pipe through the head of the player.
Church stands alone but for man and viewer.

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