The Temple lays broken in every corner - dormant machinery rusting, it's consciouss wilting in phi inert orbit of death - used by broken operators who don't understand it's functions.
I am breaking in on the collapse of waveforms within PK Nikon 444...
twitter chips splintering the timers
wet noise
a tube is loose and vibrating somewhere
an exhaust vent
a thousand metallic wheels burr
coalate and tabulate
the fine machinery
shuffling
settings
feedback signals dance
like insect call and response
a harmony of circutry resonates
on biologic schematics of
language light
tiny invisible wires that actually
actually go into the head
to find the centers of imagination.
sonar ripples
like a drummer rappidly tapping
tapping the surface
of all bio taunt
electro tensions
insect sounds
this is the rubbing of legs
hollow legs of electrical sense
overpowering emmissions of scent
a shaking and vibrating of wings
oh...wait that is here...now the old type writer is coming to life.
It is a old Monarch that has a wooden carry case...there it is...