I must warn you
for digital audio
Written: 2008
Duration: 2:00
Instrumentation: digital audio
Program Notes
There’s a yellow bird over there.
When you squint your eyes, the bird
will turn into a woman
the kind of woman who straps
knives to calves.
She’s not an archangel
(tell yourself whatever you need to).
She’ll disappear
when skin meets skin.
The clock face grows pale.
Time has evaporated. The thin
line between right and misery
has also faded.
You drink in my desire
for her, that ruby-throated
kind of poison.
You unlock the chambers of white
noise a magic trick.
This night is the swirling
Van Gogh dream. This night
is born to us
in the half-step.
There’s a door over there, cracked
slightly. Shut it.
Stop this bird from singing.