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lyrics

(No one has been here before.
I suspect this place in new.)

This site seems emptied out,
Or is it full of everything?
There seems to be no standard so
We all fall down and then,
Projecting who, where, what, and when,
We pull the wool on our own eyes.
It serves as our disguise.
This costume’s a familiar mode,
In it we stand historically.
An attitude, a valid one,
Allowing full-fledged inquiry.
We make it move.
We push the air.
But it grows soft and quivers.
It quivers.

I had it in my hands.
It wasn’t making sense.
I had to put it down,
My hands are something new.
As if I stepped outside,
I do not know my name.
My body is not mine,
It can’t be catalogued.

(In this manner all is new.
Nothing has been seen before.)

Our mouths conform to mix concrete
To slow this dizzy altered state.
Our mouths reveal the post they’ve birthed,
The landmark’s lying still, it waits.
And so we sneak around the field,
Trying to recollect the field,
And so, these shapes outline.
Our gaze will edge up to an edge
And creep to find it’s way around.
And as it pulls the silhouette,
A quiet kleptomania.
A judgment that our senses made
That can’t be verified as right.
It’s wrong.

I cannot recognize
The shape that I outlined.
Subjected to divide,
It lost stability.
As if I stepped outside,
I do not know its name.
This language is not mine,
It cannot be applied.

Something was taken and the void
Becomes a blind spot in our minds.
Landmarks more prevalent than land,
Bookmarks denote the resting points.
But is this clean and orderly?
It is clean, and poetry.
And if this cleanliness divides…

I had it in my hands.
It wasn’t making sense.
I had to put it down,
My hands are something new.
As if I stepped outside,
I do not know my name.
My body is not mine,
It can’t be catalogued.

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Gary Setzer Tucson, Arizona

Gary Setzer is an interdisciplinary artist. His performances, installations, objects, videos, and recordings have been exhibited and screened internationally.

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