bad air

[[ This started while reading  Ryszard Kapuściński, The Shadow of the Sun, where he describes the anxiety that comes with malaria. And wordplay: malaria as 'bad air' and even 'bad song'. ]]

a feeling of anxiety

I know no reason

I believe a curse 

has come upon me

I believe a spirit 

has entered me

I am fixed to earth

light is unbearable

the sound and smell 

the touch of others

I am cold as death 

and trembling  

hold me down with

all your weight

You can know nothing

[[ This started from two episodes in Ryszard Kapuściński, The Shadow of the Sun, and his description of how there is little in the way of twilight in Africa -- it is light and then BANG it is dark, and then, twelve hours later, BANG, it is light again. But I have let something of the ambiguous and possible hints of the metaphysical or epistemological creep into it. ]]

You can know nothing

before and after.

On the way to Kumase,

our bus stops somewhere.

A woman gathers to herself her children.

She rests her bowl upon her head

and walks into the trees.

You can know nothing

before and after.

When the sun comes up,

there is no prelude to rising.

This is the old adventure.

On the Serengeti,

our truck has a flat.

Lions rest round shreds of antelope.

They watch us half an hour, then rise

and walk into the grass.

You can know nothing

before and after.

When the sun goes down,

it is gone.

This is the old adventure.

the song of a dove

[[ This started while reading  Ryszard Kapuściński , 'The Anatomy of a Coup d’État', in The Shadow of the Sun. ]]

A peaceful coup,

like the song of a dove,

and the man below

is the man above.

Today is Saturday;

we live in the future.

Today is Sunday;

we live in the past.

This is your signal, 

faithful five:

take them at midnight,

take them alive.

Today is Saturday;

we live in the future.

Today is Sunday;

we live in the past.

A coup must come at once 

from everywhere and silently.

A coup must come at once,

invisibly and deniably.

This is your signal 

at the waterfall:  

stop the five senses.

That is all.

It starts in IT 

on Saturday night.

It ends with pancakes 

at Mama's Delight.

Today is Saturday;

we live in the future.

Today is Sunday;

we live in the past.

...from everywhere and silently.

where to begin

[[ The destination might be almost anywhere, but I was thinking of Africa, our origin  It started while reading Ryszard Kapuściński, 'The Beginning: Collision, Ghana, 1958', in The Shadow of the Sun. I like the contrast between travel in the old days, when a traveler grew accustomed to the destination on the way there, to travel now, when you hop into a pressurized plane this morning and hop out of the plane on the other side of the world this evening. Also, the typical conflation of all countries and cultures on the African continent into the monolithic 'Africa' of Hollywood. ]]

not the romantic sort,

this is no port-to-port

idyllic expedition

there is no getting used to it, no getting used to it

this is the cheap flight

sleep upright overnight

no acclimatization

there is no getting used to it, no getting used to it

you're still breathing 

your own atmosphere

when they open the aircraft 

find your way through 

strange customs, the frontier,

before you feel the first draft  

and you're out 

in a street

in the heat

this is where we all began, where we all begin 

this is where we strip away and get down to skin  

let's take shade under this tree 

and --  listen to me -- let the continent 

drift slowly away

how many

languages,

cultures, and

kings here?

start by ad-

mitting you

don't know a

thing here

but 

welcome to here, 

welcome to here

one street in 

one city,

one nation 

traced out on 

a piece of earth

drifting slowly away

there is no getting used to it, no getting used to it

start by saying you don't know a thing

an evening of possibilities

[[ from a photo I saw -- New York City, 1943, with signs as described in the verses. This should be big band, jazz, a dance number in an old movie.  ]]

[[bridge, chorus, and other repetitive apparatus]]

night!

night is coming

night is coming on

night is coming on for us all

this is an evening

of possibilities,

my friend

rain!

rain is falling

rain may stop right now

rain may fall forever on us all

we could go down

to the subway

where the parallel
rails never meet

we could walk on

in the rain

where the universe

shines in the street

let's share an umbrella

[[verse 1]]

See that sign?

"Johnnie Walker",

three stories high.

We could go buy

Johnnie Walker

and drink it tonight.

Three stories high,

my friend.

[[verse 2]]

See that sign?

"Saludos, Amigos"

on the marquee?

We could watch

the dancing alpaca,

we could snort

at 'Lake Titicaca',

my friend.

[[verse 3]]

See that sign?

"The Human Comedy"

larger than life.

we could enjoy

the Human Comedy

I can't promise you

Andy Hardy tonight,

my friend.

the weight of the soul

[[ Weapons -- bullets, bombs, missiles -- and the technology of violence, the politics and philosophy of violence, the blinking out of life. And there was the famous (?) experiment in which someone claimed to weigh the human soul and came up with 21 grams. ]] 

how fast they move

these pieces of metal

how hard and sharp 

they make themselves known

the projection of power

is airtight, cylindrical, 

streamlined and modular

how small they seem 

these pieces of certainty

how they disintegrate

all understanding 

the end of it all 

has just crossed the border

and gone underground

how fast they die 

the cells of memory

how the mind blinks out

second by second

the weight of the soul

is the difference between

the body before and after

how small we seem

with no more certainty

how we disintegrate

past understanding

the end of it all 

has just crossed the border

and gone underground

the weight of the soul

is the difference between

the body before and after

we die surrounded,

surrounding, before and after,

feel the weight of the soul

get out of this night

[[ escaping the immediate (literal) or escaping life (figurative) ]]

I'm only trying to get a taxi out of here

I'm only trying to make myself disappear

I'm only trying to leave this city behind

Before I catch that ride

I need to get out of this night

I'm only searching for a crosstown bus

I'm only searching for a way out of us

I'm only trying to leave my trouble behind

Before I catch that ride

I need to get out of this night

I can't walk any further

I can't walk any further

I can't walk any further

someone get me out of here

someone carry me away from here

I'm only hoping for a ride from a friend

I'm only hoping for this whole thing to end

I'm only trying to leave this world behind

Before I catch that ride

I need to get out of this night

intentional love song 14: your eyes are like your eyes

[[ no metaphor, no simile, just what it is: your eyes are like your eyes ]]

love is not something it is not

simple love

no metaphor

no simile

what is it for

but to say your eyes

are not your eyes

simple love

no metaphor

no simile

what is it for

but to say your skin

is not your skin

your eyes are like 

your eyes are like

your eyes are like 

your eyes...

your eyes collect the light and turn it into thought

intentional love song 13: Never get over

[[ a brooding song, with memories called up like pages from self-help articles, museum dioramas, films, plays  ]]

Yeah, it's been awhile.

Never get over.

I go through things

like the agony aunts

in magazines

a thousand times

in waiting rooms

I go through things

like a bad museum

with manikins

still holding poses

as if they were real

Yeah, it's been awhile.

Do you dwell on things?

Do you live on that street?

Do you eat and breathe, 

Do you dream it?
Do you?

Yeah, it's been awhile.

Never get over.

I go through things

prime vintage porn flick

with funk slap bass

here comes the pizza

but the plumber's here

I go through things

like art house drama

with painted tears

and painted laughter

to an angular dance

Yeah, it's been awhile.

Do you dwell on things?

Do you live on that street?

Do you eat and breathe, 

Do you dream it?

Yeah, it's been awhile.

Never get over.

Jesus was a cracker

Jesus was a cracker 

we washed down 

with wine

was Jesus

Mary was a mumble

a bracelet

a sign

was Mary 

God was nothing 

in particular

a smoke bomb, 

a brass cup,

stained glass,

a widow working the organ 

working the organ

From all of which 

I assembled a cosmology

in a basement crèche

while God turned away from me

Jesus was a cracker 

we washed down 

with wine

was Jesus

Mary was a mumble

a bracelet

a sign
was Mary

I want a music in me

[[ Well. Music and night. ]]

because I close my eyes

I want a music in me

I want an art in here 

when I go into sleep

when I die I will close

my eyes and hear a bell

when I am dying I will hear 

the voices falling, rising 

across the last threshold

in wave, in wave, in waterswell

because I close my eyes

I want a music in me

Thou art in me,

Mistress Night,

in comely dress

of soft Moon-light

intentional love song 12: the breathing

when you call 

I feel the phone

in your hand

I hear the shape 

of the room

where you stand

I hear you breathe

and I know

you are there

how real you are 

even though 

so far so far so far

how real you are 

faith is a hovercraft

floating on its own breath

I think of how 

you are breathing 

other air

I think of how 

you are your own

atmosphere

I hear you breathe

and I know

you are there

how real you are 

even though

so far so far so far

how real you are 

faith is a hovercraft

floating on its own breath

how real you are
even though
faith is a hovercraft
adrift on its own breath

intentional love song 11: astronomical passenger

[[ a song about going no place fast but together ]]

astronomical passenger you

astronomical passenger me

tilted and whirling

one thousand

miles an hour

round this planet

round the equator

every day

astronomical passenger you

astronomical passenger me

tilted and whirling

sixty-seven thousand

miles an hour

round this sun

tilted and whirling

every year

tilted and whirling

tilted and whirling

springsummerautumnwinter

springsummerautumnwinter

springsummerautumnwinter

spring

astronomical passenger you

astronomical passenger me

tilted and whirling

four hundred ninety thousand

miles an hour

round this galaxy

until we are gone

until miles and hours are gone

half-moon morning

I could hang my hat

on the corner 

of this sharp half-moon morning

I could sail away

in the belly

of this smooth half-moon boat

If 

you haven't 

looked at this 

morning as 

something you 

choose

don't follow your shoes

there's a sky up there

I could lay my head

on the pillow 

of this soft cloud floating

I could leave forever

on the mountain 

of this island cloud rolling

rolling away

If 

you haven't 

looked at this 

morning as 

something you 

choose

don't follow your shoes

there's a sky up there

intentional love song 10: make yourself known

[[ love somewhere ]]

I still look for you, 

whoever you are

we could meet

where two rivers meet

under ancient trees

we could meet

at the grocery store

buying carrots and peas

but when we meet

and I believe we will meet

be anything 

only bring 

yourself to me and me alone

make yourself known

I still look for you, 

whoever you are

we could meet

at a crossroads

lost in the hills

we could meet

at a chain cafe

getting refills

but when we meet

and I believe we will meet

be anything 

only bring 

yourself to me and me alone

make yourself known

intentional love song 9: I've seen this movie

I've seen this movie

I know how it ends

the leading man leaves her

for one of her friends

some actor pretends

to be a regular guy

pretending he's faithful

and thinking he's sly

think I'll leave before the rain

I've seen this movie

and nobody dies

it's not that kind of movie

she just cries

she just cries

yeah, this is the part where she cries

he tries to convince her

it's all in her brain

I think I'll leave before

she thinks she's insane

I've seen this movie

I know how it goes

if I leave before the end

watch your toes

maybe I can beat the rain

I've seen this movie

and nobody dies

it's not that kind of movie

she just cries

she just cries

yeah, this is the part where she cries

lapis lazuli

Do you remember

the twenty-first century?

When everyone splendid

would bathe in the nude

in a pool in the wood?

When everyone splendid

was splendidly good?

Do you remember

the twenty-first century?

When everyone's friend

siphoned gasoline nights

just to set it alight?

When everyone's friend

was so right?

Where are we now?

All of our years 

whirled away?

We have washed our hands clean

with a little gasoline 

and some noise

We have made our big play

only traded away

a few boys

We have sung the Afghanistan blues now in every saloon 

this side of the moon

in the nineteenth century

in the twentieth century

in the twenty-first century

in every saloon 

this side of the moon

we have sung the Afghanistan blues

Do you remember

the twenty-first century?

When everyone struggled

to nurture a bruise

to be shown on the news?

When everyone struggled

to cover the ruse?

Do you remember

the twenty-first century?

When the world was run

by a troop of baboons

under two rising moons?

When the world ended

one afternoon?

Where are we now?

All of our years 

whirled away?

We have washed our hands clean

with a little gasoline 

and some noise

We have made our big play

only traded away

a few boys

We have sung the Afghanistan blues now in every saloon 

this side of the moon

in the nineteenth century

in the twentieth century

in the twenty-first century

in every saloon 

this side of the moon

we have sung the Afghanistan blues

Magnetic Mountain

I saw a picture of 

Magnetic Mountain

hidden in smoke

a mountain of iron

city built under 

a mountain of iron

spin the clock backward

roll back the calendar

fix every compass on

Magnetic Mountain

mama blew the roof off

and everyone died

but the miracle child
but the miracle child
they found in the frost

hello world

we'll climb 

Dynamite Mountain

and light the fuse

we'll get our faces 

floating

on world news

we'll be the first eyes 

to see

the invisible half

we'll burn our way 

home or die

and still laugh

ancient Apollo 

computer just big enough 

to write hello world

show us the secrets of dust

intentional love song 8: he loves you if (indistinguishable from love)

[[ as in life, change he to she if needed ]] 

he loves you if 

you tell yourself 

you tell yourself

he loves you and 

you believe you

you believe you

talk to love

talk to

talk back at love

talk love

if it sounds like love

it is love

suspend your disbelief 

it is not unnecessarily naive

it is necessarily naive

suspension  

is no solution

but it will do

talk to love

talk to

talk back at love

talk love

if it sounds like love

it is love

if it is indistinguishable from love

it is love