The Alliteration Chord

The Alliteration Chord is a project in nostalgia. Reaching into the recycling bin, pulling out big plastic chunks of the past, shinning up the best parts, tweaking with technologies, and creating spaces to get lost within… or perhaps found.Listen. Love. Enjoy.Sometimes people laugh and cough with thoughts that slam first through the head and then to the wooded dirt, kept like treasure under the chipped nails of sculptors.Sometimes people see new hues in the rainbow, and nets catch colours not wings.Sometimes people walk outside to the talkative trees while chemicals cry and time breaks us down with sob stories of cleaner days.Sometimes I get stuck-fast on the web of super-information, knitting nets, and praying for Prozac to stop the hypertext.Sometimes proto-plastic flows ashen from the hair of young cities while men lift their instruments to the shooting star sky.Sometimes colours drip like blood, spit after a kiss so sweet it makes ice cream cry.Sometimes famine cracks the face of the old ground and natural disaster wipes the smirk off the face of humanity. Sometimes stars line, held by sticks and strings in a penny puppet show while strained cadences sing from a mistreated music box.Sometimes the Almighty turns away from a planet to watch it spin like a stray dog.Sometimes everyone has the button on their coffee table and knows the apocalypse is blank gray glass and an empty sofa.Sometimes I see paths to Prague and South Korea, but no way out of these, my white pages.Sometimes the grass takes back the city sidewalk and beloved pussycats go feral.Sometimes bodies drift and dam like lumber.