The absence of light. Images of explosions, before the inner eye. Slow floating – in zero gravity.
Darkness. The absence of movement: immobility like the zenith of a flight path.
The stars in heaven that Marinetti himself implored.
Then – a barely perceptible plummet into layers of sonic sediment.
And a look back at once awe-inspiring cities, now razed to the ground.
Inke Arms about Thomas Köner Futurist Manifesto
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