19 December 2015

The 13 Days of Zappaness: Day 4

(I am embracing non-contiguous days.)

Day 4, “Naval Aviation in Art?” (from Läther)

18 December 2015

Interludio

Still catching my breath.

To-do list this weekend:

1. Video for the 21 November Triad concert

2. Video & audio documents of the HTUMC Christmas concert

3. ... Holding a Phone...? Things Like Bliss?  Guitar solo?

No urgency to 3., as a Christmas respite does approach.

15 December 2015

The 13 Days of Zappaness: Day 3

Day 3, “Marche royale” from Stravinsky’s L’histoire du soldat (from Make a Jazz Noise Here)

14 December 2015

The 13 Days of Zappaness: Day 2

Day 2, “Call Any Vegetable” (from Absolutely Free)

13 December 2015

9 of 15

(song no. 9)

a green the shade of new leaf
on the maple in april
the indefinable blue
of late autumn sky
reflected in cayuga
the sparkling grey in your eyes
when i return home

the unfailing invention

of the mockingbird’s song
so natural, so unaffected
that first you hear and then listen
the bubbling coo of the turtle
as she pecks through the black shells
the love in your voice
as you offer me some tea



(... color)

Music ho! and The 13 Days of Zappaness: Day 1

Henningmusick this morning and afternoon on the North Shore.  More on which, hereafter.

But for now, let the Zappaness roll!

Day 1, “Orange County Lumber Truck” (from Weasels Ripped my flesh)

12 December 2015

10 of 15

(song no. 10)

she doesn’t have a cat
so she stencils paw-prints
on the floor the paint brown
like the mud which in fact
she is glad the cat she doesn’t have
doesn’t track
she pulls out her phone
so words float like stars
on a still pool
sunfish dart
beneath the stars


not poetry but studies for poetry
an insistent inability to set pencil to paper
spurred by the vague desire
to record racing thoughts
there are letters you drop into slots
even though you don’t understand the signs


eternally misrehearsing a phone number
few or none of the buttons look right
turn off the moonlight
dial quickly
unwittingly
scattering the sunfish


before i awoke to your white night
and could brush my hair in the blues of your eyes
i saw mirrors in icicles surrounding my sunglasses
i answered a knock at the border with incorrect papers
i wrapped the cast on my arm in a plastic bag
to join men i didn’t know in a country sauna
i sank into a subway though i couldn’t see bottom


she gave me a photograph
from the future of a kitten
the cat has a young girl
you can see in the girl’s eyes
she is thinking of the cat
and even (possibly) of me
(there’s that look in her eyes)


you can see in the cat’s eyes
the girl & the photographer are less
than the sunfish trying the phone
she’s disconnected


deep in the background
in the cat’s paw you can see



(... casual paintbrushes)