where's her beating on this dress?

Stella Wong

i've misplaced my panic
a coin that disarmingly rides my hand
as i play invariate scales the graining is distressed into my flesh
for balance
for balance the russian would say de jussion. the mechanization of concertization is grotesque i beg you
think before you cash in your next symphony here
there is no ghost in this machine inside me
when i perform industry the timer breaks up the laws, tiens, i telecommunicate with a typewriter of blank keys
the best is when all icons are uniformed
breathe from your feet
don’t let your spine make a question mark
the renoiresque sound will paint the most sheer of senses
melt butter with the bass
pour one note into the next
there is only more machine inside the machine
grasp its fingers
vivisect its movements
string each slur like a mother of pearl rivière.