Phonographic Memory

November 3, 2012

One day–I can’t remember when
Saw a man create things out of trash.
Thought he was a dadaist.
And suddenly I empathized, reflexively.

Some arbitrary thing
Seeping out into my thoughts
Phonographic memory.
And I wonder if a style
Is attraction being recycled through me
Is attraction I’m recycling
Is attraction, recycled me
Is recycled attraction.

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3 Responses to “Phonographic Memory”


  1. After your reflections, did you still consider him a dadaist?


    • I don’t know. The man here isn’t a particular man, but a class of artists I once brushed off as not being legitimate because trash was their medium. Now I wonder if any mode of expression is any more than recycled bits of what we see and like. From this view the trash-artists are only more obviously making things from already used things; I sometimes think any style in art, writing, or personality is a conglomeration of things seen rather than a creation. The seemingly original things are something unconscious coming forth.


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