Less Adequate

instantly arising as if waiting to be summoned words bring their own meaning don't even think what should be said if intellectually responsible moral purity can never be constrained by silence inevitably part of the noise going day and night cleaning the air indifferent light fall everywhere confounded separation as if we are not all part a western whole less adequate than multiplicity

Only Habit

what I have learned is do it say it gnawing on it alone doesn't help I am easily fearless only habit to correct expecting diffidence and hesitation our weakness become our strength as working on them works no one will hate me being honest this is my concern face it

Without Philosophy

empty of what no it really is me what little I control existentially responsible shut off that inner fickle reason voice wait be cool no hurry time will be revealed something is more real what happens who says does have consequence and immediate pow slowly realized can you handle it without philosophy

Old-Fashioned

it's old-fashioned to answer your phone ironic to wear a watch who cares what time it is unless you have a rehearsal or work a job even a job-job I never really did although anything can be tiresome making a violin is drudgery you have to like it at its worst like people you love

Inviting Thoughts

how do I feel when I feel good like singing inviting thoughts arise wander manifest acting undaunted by any demands tomorrow I will be almost well the next day entirely he said then what young again fresh to the possibility of meaning

Good News

I cannot unsee you come in dreams is all forgotten if you think so then I said what was lost is contrary to our intentions if good news can ever be believed thus formulated obvious true thinking isn't enough poetry to change us all

Medium Dogs

composers get commissions why don't I I'm open to it is anybody listening hellooooo equine Guinevere jumps in the back of my car with two other horses medium dogs that gets me up though I'm not good for anything can't breathe dizzy summer cold

American Roots

fireworks satisfy at a distance from the road through a tree after memorable closer thrills I will refrain from blaming my American roots or customary obligation I can accept or not a canopy of sparks the noises might be alarming if not seen to be harmless ritual release

Honey-Roasted

Everything must come from the heart. —Pina Bausch among the almonds I am bitter but you'd never know that I am honey-roasted lightly salted as if delicious but no one eats me is the issue whether recognized or satisfied with the thing itself in order to go on sell out truth inheres in continuing making

That Long

Look up from my desk on the 73rd floor and there is the future falling into the past. It takes that long, or would if I didn't see it coming. In fact it falls in slow motion: the latest present lasted a couple of months. Stop motion. Then another limbo of anticipation. Then another.