Poetry will be made by everyone and there will be emu’s in the zone.
“Then I went down into the basement,
Where my friend, the maniac, busies himself with his electronic graffiti,
Finally his language touches me,
Because he talks to that part of us which insists on drawing profiles on prison walls,
In that moment, poetry will be made by everyone,
And there will be emu’s in the zone.”
I woke up with these words echoing through my head. A sound clip that is usedby Kasabian at the beginning of their song ‘West Ryder Silver Bullet’.
It haunted me so that I climbed down opened my laptop and went on a search. Resulting in my trusted – corporate – friend Google answering: Sans Soleil(1983) by Chris Marker. A experimental documentary almost Eliot-esque.
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