Thursday, February 23, 2017

A table is a galaxy of conversation

a prism where every part of speech is vibrant.  Is heard.  Is written.  And the mountains?  Ancient witnesses.  Elegant eavesdroppers.  And water? Libation & baptism.  Fury and meditation.  

1 comment:

  1. Jazz for the Occasion (7)

    Now a new painting must be started. Saturday after breakfast I will go buy a new canvas, a larger one to fill this hole. Each symmetry sneaks up on me; I can recite the messages if I have time. No excellent standard can blast off this porpoise--I will fight on through the sloggle and slug down. On march the legions! We only rejoice when their cart runs over the feet lined up to see the parade.

    Something about whims pertains to the future, an ambivalent settling for a heartbreaking intrusion, a repatriation with the inhabitants within.

    Picture a sailboat out on the horizon, sphering its triangles into a receding line. Battles full of false heroes can never claim a victory, though we sun in our suits until dawn.

    "Jazz for the Occasion", 1-7, Excerpts from red cadic notebook, 1986-90, sf, ca