Saturday, October 10, 2015

in the dream


the reader sits in an empty white windowless room
at a white wooden table
on a white wooden chair
over a strange black floor
holding only a single blank sheet of paper

the entire ceiling is illuminated
and is maybe 6 meters up

the reader is nude
indigo
and sexless
and may be a machine

for a long time
perhaps a standard month
the reader stares at the page
minutely inspecting its surface
and finding nothing

until at some point
a radical shift occurs in its optics
and it begins to see
activity in the surface of the page

the page is broken into innumerable vertical columns
that appear like shallow troughs but constructed of frail
transparent mechanical appurtenances like stobs, wheels,
catches, levers, contoured brake-leaves, and other submerged structures
which lay flat against the floor of the trough but which appear in outline
as if their forms are submerged deeper within the page

in short the surface of the page is bristling
with unknown mechanical qualities
but which shortly come to light as actuation
as the reader notices

that at the upper edge of the page
soft white formless blobs are captured (are they photons?)
and are transformed into complex mechanical objects
by special lenses or filter assemblies lining the edge of the page
yet remaining tiny transparent and frail
like clockwork octopi or spiders

then the machinic photons begin to fall through
down along the troughs their arms catching or linking
depressing or releasing spinning or retracting
as they travel down the page randomly changing columns
when mechanically they actuate levers which guide them
along transversal arcs their interlinking components
fitted perfectly so that every action
seems as smooth and frictionless as thinking
and some of the clockwork octopi spider photons disappear
into the surface

and so the reader flips the page
and sees them emerge on the other side
following the same arrangement
until at the bottom they exit
as miniscule black dots
quantum spots
which fall to the floor like a fine dust
invisible against the overwhelming darkness

for awhile the reader is content with accessing
the contents of this mechanical page
watching the frail mechanical morsels
following their transmigrations

until its attention is turned to the walls of the room
where the process is also visible yet on a larger scale
the photons now appearing to be the size of teacups
but as these larger curiosities pachinko their origami grooves
they seem to store mechanical power
as if the journey down is winding a series of inner mechanical springs
or tensionings
until they jump from the walls spinning wildly and whirring musically
until they explode their discrete parts rejoining magnetically in smaller forms
which bounce on the floor and explode again
into soft white blobs
that foam along the floor
until they go dim