swans

"Doesn't really matter, you know, what kind of nasty names people invent for the music. But, uh, folk music is just a word, you know, that I can't use anymore. What I'm talking about is traditional music, right, which is to say it's mathematical music, it's based on hexagons. But all these songs about, you know, roses growing out of people's brains and lovers who are really geese and swans are turning into angels - I mean, you know, they're not going to die. They're not folk music songs. They're political songs. They're already dead."
Jude, I'm Not There.

Illustration of goose from here.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Andante

could you halt to a crawl, please
i feel like the anchor of your little speedboat
i feel like the brake of your lambo
the pause in your vivace,
the little cork in your fast-paced watercolor
lemon-squeezed strobe lit
warzone

i will not breathe into your stillness
once you realize
your bones have finally grown cold

and i will not blow out the candle
you lit blindfolded
with a smile like a pistol
that bloomed flowers out of its muzzle

and i will not retune
your sad, aching piano
who weeps a chromatic apology

"sorry,"
it says,
"i broke the time signature"
written by M at 12:54 PM

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