A crown of sonnets based on Laurie Anderson’s O Superman, 1981

The first digital utterance of breath
Reverberating, a baby’s breath, ha
Speaking of mom and dad, speaking of death
but it is just a breath, an exhale, ha

Could it make me into a superman
The circular pale pink, a window in
to digital world, American plan.
the simple hand gesture waving chagrin

to mom and dad. Are you coming home yet?
Birds are calling, an eighties opera
paling into the future statuette.
It is still happening. Center speaks Era.

The light in the center speaks. Mother is
flesh, mother is country. Flying arms says

Flesh, mother is country. Flying arms says
Arms are flying me on an airplane, arms
are my mother’s flesh embrace me Cortez
but I’m not home. The arms speak, fire alarm

of coming and of going, envelop
my arriving as I am baby’s breath,
But, how much is the price to develop
The voice said, This is the hand, also breath.

All hands open to feed the metropole
Thrive. Hand that takes - A finger pointing out
Tomorrow. Taking, giving. Spectral hole
The planes arrive; American sea trout.

I am an American Sign language.
It will all come out, the weather anguish

It will all come out, the weather anguish
What is the weather. Tell me if I can
Smoking or non; it is snowing languish.
In another circle, sea of Japan,

she appears, a swift completion, proposed
existing in the circle and outside
its spin as a globe or a surface composed
to be written the smoking signs implied

On the night. On the blue night. justice stares
into the earthly plane looking up clouds,
a force not arrived at all unawares
in the hair that stands on end. Two palms, crowds

tell me the force. Flesh, speech propel. High mom.
Sinking into the minor keys, time bomb.

Sinking into the minor keys, time bomb.
The arms appear again. Whose arms these are
we do not know, but they hold us up qualm
here, high above with the birds, silver star

with the profile of a wolf well enough,
while the sign is always back to oneself.
A-okey, metal heart, waving rebuff
from beyond the window aisle landing shelf

in inclement weather. Roll up the sleeves
to receive the wind on flesh. Wind on limb
the power circle; to receive the thieves
of United States Live, a pseudonym.

The Big Science of Jules Massenet´s opera
Eighteen Eighty Five, Le Cid, Madonna

Eighteen Eighty Five, Le Cid, Madonna,
A perfect translation from then to now
An Eventide Harmonizer fauna
Ha ha ha as a C note, sacred cow

A major, C minor, as pedal point.
Oh judge, oh superman of any kind
Petrochemical arms of any joint,
of any species of pilot failure.

In Herodotus’ Histories describe
the couriers of the Persian Empire.
Ancient post office, who are you really?
This equipment, Farfisa organ wire

Say: ´neither snow nor rain nor gloom of night
James Farley, Who is this really tonight?

James Farley, Who is this really tonight?
Technology to make music converse
In American Sign Language incite
the Tao, Talk to power on the phone source

Say: shall stay these couriers from the swift
Say: completion of their appointed rounds.´
One sided conversation to exist
To eternity, a phone call surrounds

Unable to reach the Iran affair
Nineteen Seventy Nine, Tehran, Iran
The Us embassy stormed, sloop of war
Burning debris, hostages, backfire, upon

failure of technology. Universal
emptiness, a phone call dress rehearsal

emptiness, a phone call dress rehearsal
Saxophone fades into oblivion
Sounding a vocoder disguised Versal
Along the same chorus meridian

Pray to the authority of these arms,
The arms that hold the system, that hold me.
We are in the same war, same crown of thorns.
Our planes are still crashing reality

Failure of technology to be real
flesh arms saving hostages from a plane
burning, a mother in American steel
eclipsing the circle of daisy chain

We pray to the authority of death
The first digital utterance of breath