Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Bachir Attar / Elliott Sharp- In New York

What about the words that travel above the ones you hear with delicate human ears spoken with delicate human mouth? Spoken with pain so high only heard by dogs even with tails between legs suiciding on chicken bones or jumping from cliffs. Cats refuse to land on their feet after hearing. This is my spoken-unheard pain. You could hear it in my eyes if your pride would only let you look. Until then the spiders flee the walls with bleeding ears. Evolution forbidding man from seeing himself. From hearing the obvious-never-secret. And I can’t speak that I want you to hear it. So I sit silent mind vibrating shaking the walls