Metropolis

I'm performing in a show this Sunday, February 19th at
The Southern Theater in Minneapolis
You can get all the details, price, etc at www.myspace.com/desdamona

This performance will be a collaborate effort that features the film Metropolis. Metropolis is one of the most exciting and exceptional works of art that humankind has produced. This epic science fiction film is one of Germany's famous silent movies created by Fritz Lang and liberated in 1927, the period between the two world wars.

Electropolis will be adding the soundtrack of live music for the showing of the film. I, Desdamona, will be providing a spoken word element. Here's what I will be performing.

Never have I been lost in this city
but instead, the city lost inside of me
just beneath the skin is seeps
it drips, it creeps, it rests in sleep
the sharpness of we pillowed beings
projected onto slippery streets
the juxtaposition of marshmallow memories
against the rust of unyielding dreams
has traced itself under my fingernails
and become embedded in my psyche
this metropolis turns to dust
and spreads wide as the grandest state
inside my heart it pumps and thrusts
a continent it makes
the veins are plucked one by one
replaced by fragile shards
that seemingly reflect our image
and we get wrapped inside the shine
because it's so curiously vivid
These are your brothers staring into the crystal ball of misfortune
never truly seeing reality
the balance split into unequal parts
slashing cuts into the flowering skirt of our mother
she is trying to tell us something but we've convinced her that she has no voice
her children have become assimilated into the steel and smoke
the dead have a silent film stretched across their faces
heart murmurs and celestial mirages
swooning from the stench of the soot
Whose hands built this city?
Whose heart resides here?
whose mind controls it?
overlooked by the centuries
shift change
shift & change
change shifts and the ladies dance for the heartless
the divide becomes a wound too deep to recover
the mother of these poor children, bereaved
and still the kings do not recognize their brothers
the ones standing in the mine fields
these are your brothers
frantically swinging machetes
amputating their own limbs
disconnecting themselves from humanity
but you are made of iron
neither their happiness or their sorrow
can push the wind into your face