March 8, 2005

• I am sorry if I offended you
  

  ---

  But I have found myself sideways, sidled, slightly silly;
  I am watching the wind reverse direction, marked by the
  gusting snow, a complete backwards motion to the
  horizontal pelting being received from East to West.

  The cold ache in my fingers is not fatigue, no my fingers
  they have splayed themselves in Monk like fashion
  over my keyboard until the tips hurt, until there is
  no music in me; ache dissonant, a sharp 13.

  And now I am on stage with you all - backup and
  solo is your forte - the orchestra tunes and the
  audience settles, the curtain rises as the chords
  both dissonant and resolved strike our ears.

  Here we are, you and I, with images sublime and
  ridiculous, works of art and complete shite or as
  a non-judgmental might say "all art is smelly, some
  more than most."

  But again, here we are.  Can I "sub" you all, see those
  poses, catch your phrases - burn those images into my
  mind?  The childish things are relevant - what is relevant
  depends on how you perceive yourself from a child.

  And the wind blows hard outside my window.  Winter returns
  and the God forsaken Gopher has spoke -  more weeks of
  unlivable atmosphere - heads down we supplicate to the environs;
  We lift our car wiper arms to the heavens; help us!

  I am sorry if I have offended you with my "ness", my absence,
  my reclusive, my happiness; I am ridiculously happy.

  I am writing like this from now on.  I think of William Spader
  when I speak; a kind of arrogant, benevolent, prick.  I do not
  aspire to this phallic end, but I do enjoy the "is-ness" of it; Buddha
  with a hard-on if you please.

  To this I commend me ...

  • 10:35 pm
  • 3 Comments