journey song #2:
foreign host
imagine you are a machine
transmitting bytes in the dark
of wires, of routers, of cables.
imagine, when you ping, the number
always come back: 40% packet loss,
135 phonemes transmitted, 85 received.
on the other end, your transmissions
are being decoded painfully, each
received packet carefully compared
against context. Scrambled, filled
in, ambiguous, must be decoded.
eventually, meaning is assembled
from these inadequate components.
or perhaps you are a dissident
in a small, war-torn country
and I am listening on my little
radio to your crackling voice,
losing you for minutes perhaps but
I am faithfully straining, hoping
for news of the revolution.
this communication is important,
and as easily misunderstood.
I say, I am sorry. I did not hear you.
come again?
1/3/98, Vancouver