Defining what Gabriel Palacios terms the "vaporpoem," Lunar Hilton Elegy moves through the artifacts of a boyhood suspended in the neon-noir dusk of 1989—home-taped Video Soul broadcasts, dead-mall architecture, late-night cable access—treating the past not as a home to return to, but as an improvised shelter against the present's digital weather.
Lunar Hilton Elegy asks what remains of the American myth when its "freshly planted tracts" resolve into blue photonic mist. At once darkly comic and urgently elegiac, Palacios offers a report from the threshold of the still-buffering all-at-once—or, more precisely, a lost-and-found sunbaked cassette of that report, still playing.
This collection is in conversation with the soundpoem project, Spanish Trail Motel. You can listen here.