pianism
/ called it in a key everybody can touch without fear
of being institutionalized, tempo
tipping its hat to the ladies at the bar, a full bar ahead, artifice to divert attention away from
some impotence.
how a rain falls but the dirt is tougher. the new ground broke him as much as he
broke out
of stethoscopes to subtly restate what was understated back to him.
with friends you can usually skip the small talk
and go straight to the outlying. take great care in
your notes’ criteria. it’s insurgent to ask someone
something where the answer is longer than
the journey. that’s why he transgresses
the bar lines a lot of the time, as if it were him chasing the police
screaming the other way down the street.
here come
an overshot bridge, an evening quilt
with a purview, and the bad landing (ended
up in a sundown town messing around
after sundown,
and lived to tell about it.
is that bad enough for you?). here come
a code laboratory
and its speculative force of selfawareness
tulips vis-à-vis ebonies and ivories.
some boogie as a site of protest.
you wouldn’t think that he’d take
this opportunity right now to rest,
but every code laboratory has an
interstitial in the corner consisting of
rest.
around back were distinctly distant galleries, and an extension chamber he get vast
in. later, when lyricism heightens and somebody pulls a knife over who was dancing with
whom, you thought he was gone and not going to get back in time, but just then he substitutes
a motivic arrival with substitution motifs, and it sounded like kismet; he had sewed the
groove back, and there wasn’t a seam.
you don’t appreciate the way his head fits in this space?
stands to reason, then, the more dramatically ascending the freight elevator, the
more you can’t go backward and forward at the same time, but he can sure make it lilt like
he is.