Friday, March 22, 2013

I Investigate So Much That in the End It Is For Form's Sake Only, Only a Drop Comes Out

Yes, I know whose birthday is tomorrow (meaning today) I said when asked by L last night at Thursday Night Pints, Shatner eighty-two today (meaning today). L held Planet when Planet was two and three years old, she suggested I add the St Clairsville video just now (meaning last night in another post) to today's (meaning yesterday's) Planet Birthday Cascade. Know who else has a birthday tomorrow (meaning today), born eigthy-seven years ago tomorrow (meaning today) I asked?


Yes, this Rostropovich bit is ceepeed from last May, apparently I forgot to wiki Slava's birthday then to verify the shitty lists I use for these gags is correct. I said then, Next to piano, I love cello most. Here's Rostropovich playing Shostakovich's Cello Concerto Number 1, first, second, third, fourth movements. Here's him with Benjamin Britten on piano playing Shostakovich's Cello Sonata Opus 40 first, second, third, fourth movements.


Thom Gunn

All today I lie in the bottom of the wardrobe
feeling low but sometimes getting up
to moodily lumber across rooms
and lap from the toilet bowl, it is so sultry
and then I hear the noise of firecrackers again
all New York is jaggedy with firecrackers today
and I go back to the wardrobe gloomy
trying to void my mind of them.
I am confused, I feel loose and unfitted.

At last deep in the stairwell I hear a tread,
it is him, my leader, my love.
I run to the door and listen to his approach.
Now I can smell him, what a good man he is,
I love it when he has the sweat of work on him,
as he enteres I yodel with happiness,
I throw my body up against his,
I try to lick his lips,
I care about him more than anything.

After we eat we go for a walk to the piers.
I leap into the standing warmth, I plunge into
the combination of old and new smells.
Here on a garbage can at the bottom, so interesting,
what sister or brother I wonder left this message I sniff.
I too piss there, and go on.
Here a hydrant there a pole
here's a smell I left yesterday, well that's disappointing
but I piss there anyway, and go on.

I investigate so much that in the end
it is for form's sake only, only a drop comes out.

I investigate tar and rotten sandwiches, everything, and go on.

And here a dried old turd, so interesting
so old, so dry, yet so subtle and mellow.
I can place it finely, I really appreciate it,
a gold distant smell like packed autumn leaves in winter
reminding me how what is rich and fierce when excreted
becomes weathered and mild
but always interesting
and reminding me of what I have to do.

My leader looks on and expresses his approval.

I sniff it well and later I sniff the air well
a wind is meeting us after the close July day
rain is getting near too but first the wind.
Joy, joy,
being outside with you, active, investigating it all,
with bowels emptied, feeling your approval
and then running on, the big fleet Yoko,
my body in its excellent black coat never lets me down,
returning to you (as I always will, you know that)
and now
filling myself out with myself, no longer confused,
my panting pushing apart my black lips, but unmoving,
I stand with you braced against the wind.