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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