Part of a pair of pages discussing the phrase 'What lies in the darkness/ behind the speaker grille?'

We're supposed to be listening to the radio, to the hiss of static that is the sound of the stars, and to the occasional burst of speech or music that's been transmitted more locally (though it, too is on its way out into the cosmos). We can intercept these insignificant travellers by turning our needle to their frequencies; and there they are. They seem present. (One version of this thought goes, 'Is there a tiny band inside the radio?') The seeming presence is the messenger of the existence of others, and of other places and times. The sound of static is itself the sound of time: most of it has travelled a long way to get to you, here, now.