More new Fennesz. A brief Napoleon update - he's fine - then songs and poems (including another new John Ashbery poem below the Baker) only this Dead Blegsylvania today.
That building has won over everything.
Here in high school opportunities are numerous,
but what are they for?
You could live like a girl of thirteen
in a single dream,
quash outside solicitations,
go back to sleep every time,
wherever your suns take you.
This is outside, and remiss:
It takes tools to deploy the core of your dream,
face a common ford others have crossed too,
on Saratoga waters, now and again imbibing
notes of lemongrass and coconut.
I told him we don’t get anything from North Dakota.
Bilingual bullying was on the next floor.
We had the most beautiful morning and afternoon.
We just had lunch with
Dean Pavlov’s proxy; the entire breeze,
right on the tabletop here.
They’re not going to sue their money,
accident waiting to happen, which you would need
Leonard doesn’t take himself for just anybody.
Ah, ça alors! Mais pas du tout!
A very good guide, no doubt,
bringing up fine images in the guts of the past.
Occupy it by dint of occupying it.
I was saying that to you when
plotting new frescoes:
It was a comestible kind of love.
Get in and learn something.
Go smack into Mrs. Duvet. The heart’s buildings—
simply ripping. Half a building up
(and we need many), lock yourself in
the lugubrious gondola. He was
just standing over there,
talking to them.
DISSONANCE ROYAL TRAVELLER
sound opens sound
shank of globe strings floating out
something like images are here
opening up avenues to view a dome
a distant clang reaches the edifice.
understanding what it means
to understand music
cloudless movement beyond the neck’s reach
an hypnotic lull in porcelain water break mimics
tonality crunch of salad under waddling
a small seizure
does not come or go with understanding
the path will end
birdhouse of trembling cotton
or dream expelled it
parcel on the landlocked moor.
and their clothes entangled
who walk into a puddle of minnows;
minnows in a bowl
consonant with water.
the drifted footpad
ambushed by reeds signals the listening
music disappears into oars.
in the middle the world is brown;
on the opposite side of the earth
an aroma of scarlet.
this accompanies our hearing music;
the sleeve of heaven
and the hoof of earth
loosed from their garrison.
dissonance may abandon miserere
on bruised knee hasten to the idol.
and what is consonance—the recluse—
entering and exiting
as often as a monarch butterfly
touches a season;
by accident grips the burning flowers.
in the stops between terror
the moon aflame on its plaza.
autumn of rippling wind
and the noise of baskets
smell of tin fists.
and harsh fists
on the waterfall changing the season;
the horse romps in flax
a cardboard feature
creating a cycle of flax.
music imagines this cardboard
horse in cardboard jacket
flagrant the ragged grove
red summit red.
dissonance royal traveller
altered the red saddle.