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The old Hallicrafters Building Upon seeing pictures of the old Hallicrafters Building, as it is now... The siren's song is but silent now... the sweet perfume we love so well - the burning of the dirt atop glowing cylinders of crystal glass Heady perfumes of wax, paper, bakelite, and other mystic scents they hold us, surely as our Mothers hugged us 'grasped us to her bosom - filled our nights with far off voices strangers met, through ether's vices Perhaps there repose, beneath the sodden floors left o'er pieces, cut from the arms of Beauty's Black heart The silence is no more a remembrance, of "h's" given than shouting would have been, of angels past The quiet is deafening - it should not be thus would that sweeter music fill those hallowed halls of far-off static's quiet voice - It is our task; our solemn duty, if it were await the filaments' comforting glow The warm and tender caress of B+ arms a'wrapped about the hidden plates to take us home... to yesterday of course it's well within the past that's okay, you know I know the way Tom D. - WØEAJ March 18, 2008 |