COMMUNION

# Communion

John Cage knew of silence 	impossible silence
and the cell in Cambridge	where waves die on the vine
Here the quiet creeps in	past the porous entrance
to the last station left	with oracles online

Software divination		consciousness in array
Electronic tea leaves		the master overclocks
It's always listening		for words you didn't say
Kernel panic prophet		the phantom in the box

A sharp drawing of breath	or pursing of the lips
is as good as a poem		eloquence in whispers
Crunching the ambience		into a churn of glyphs
Ad nauseum nonsense		as all meaning withers

Microphones at mercy		of what the air deploys
The sole path to signal		is communion with noise