THE WALK

The Constellation of Eurynome III

Poetic oracle · A single drop of a poem

I wander the streets of the city,

skirting the edges of the working men,

weary, worn to the bone.

Today the town feels like an ocean,

a boundless ocean,

the very first ocean.

In my hands I hold a light that does not flicker

with the shifting currents of fashion.

In my eyes I hold a gaze that does not

tremble beneath the weight of revolutions.

In my feet I keep a stride that neither

falters nor hesitates at the crossroads.

For I know I have you as

the cause of all things.

And I wander the chambers, passing through

doors I must never shut behind me.

Doors of coming and going.

Transformation,
the words into a fold,
the fold into sound.

THRESHOLD

Acebuch reinterprets.
Compositions with mosaics.
Compositions with arcs.

THE STARLING - RAW SESSION

Back to the map.

OTHER PATHS

The original piece.
The poem just as it was conceived.
An unbroken reading.

SCORE I

Transformation.
The poem unravels.
A brand new poem with every visit.

SCORE II