Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Blurred As If With Veils

There was no rain but clouds and Jeremiah woke up sick. One hour later in the bathroom still retching we recalled our favorite scenes from the movies - like when Sam hits the cave troll on the head with a frying pan. How old was I when I had cows. I fell asleep reading Bhanu Kapil Water Damage. I didn't fall asleep again for a long time, though. I just lay there, a headache setting up shop, wondering what I could do about my sentences.

I used to think the way words sounded was more important than how they moved, the way they arranged themselves over the course of a sentence, and how it felt then following. Now I don't. It's true that I read a lot, but I mostly remember in fragments, if I do. By what virtue of weather I can't say the office windows are misted and the sunny landscape beyond them is blurred as if with veils. I imagine if I'm lucky this will resemble the arrival of my death, the one moment in time I can count on. Well, maybe the way they sound matters, too.

"I thought boys only sat on eggs - I didn't think they just sat in the nest." I have no idea what happened to the geese where I used to fish in Chesterfield. The river went up after two days rain and they were gone. I did forget "generative eagerness" but then recalled it reading Kapil but please, don't go scavenging for evidence. I once said that Bob Dylan could read from a phone book and I'd pay to go see it. I'm fast but it's a question of what notes, changing positions, and metronomes almost always screw me up but drummers don't.

Timing is everything if you want to be a hypnotist, a baker, a fiddler, drunk or not. In Galway Ireland I played Pastures of Plenty and a woman came up after to say you'd be better if you could hear yourself, or look for the middle of the song and not just getting through it.

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