Topic provided by Miles Budimir was: “2nd law of thermodynamics (entropy, etc…)”
Writing time: 47 minutes.
Discarded ideas: empiricism/mysticism, using wryneck form
Kept ideas: catalog, light tone with serious topic
I shall fall off a cliff and die
and like a blind dog falling off the same cliff,
my son will die, and his son;
from that same cliff until, one day, that
fucking cliff will fall off itself.
its crumbs shall crumble into themselves
until the earth becomes a peppery dust
that makes the sun sneeze; blown away.
The waning moon will wonder
what it did deserve this.
and the sun shall use the last
fingernail crescent of the moon for a toothpick before going nova.
the empty wake of space will lap against itself
for a bit, and at that ceasing; here,
after the end of time, and not since before the beginning
of time, for the second time,
it may be quiet enough to think.
Here’s how Cleveland is better than wherever you live. Only here can I imagine the ease with which one can go from a planning session on increasing local government transparency (replete with excellent, locally produced, ethnically accurate Arabic food)(and awash with qualified, motivated, well-intentioned folks from all walks of life) to a ten minute drive to a bar with the best Ukrainian food outside of Ukraine to celebrate your neighbor’s birthday with his family and plenty of krupnikas, pierogie, and potato pancakes. Not only that, but when you tell the Ukrainian bartender you want a Baltika, she knows to bring you the 8.0% ABV version instead of the weaker beer. Then you can head home to your amazingly affordable abode in one of the hip neighborhoods to enjoy bourbon and a Cohiba on your porch on a perfect summer evening with the aforementioned neighbor who just so happens to be so nice that he’ll fix your car for a case of Pabst.
The best part is: I could have done about 10 things this evening other than what I just described and all of them would have been as equally badass.
It is neither the flag that moves, nor the wind that moves. It is your mind that moves.
she is drunk as the moon
shining above her arms bracket
face she is wayward
with some beat some hit
forgotten forgot to pull up and
pull down her too small tube
dress breast ass right on that
line drive to lizard hindbrain
the crowd slows surround conversation
strays away to gaze and she knows
they watch her
(don’t watch her!
men stare and women
glare here and there a squint
or licked lip a thumb running
down the sweat of glass
fingers press to table
cigarette pull and arched eyebrow
it is not silent but would be
but for that beat that hook
she the bait they
want to take
and so when the night died
and nobody told us
and when we weren’t looking
stumbled behind some buildings to
sleep it off
observed the measure
of our desire
Once again, I was given the opportunity to attend a performance of the world-renowned Cleveland Orchestra. This time it was at Blossom Music Center, there was a Meet the Musicians panel before the performance, and a chance to meet the featured violiniset, Leila Josefowicz, during intermission. We were also plied with wine & hor d’oeuvres at both times; so, you know, bonus. The performance featured pieces from John Adams and Anton Bruckner.
In my previous post, I complained a bit about the lack of reasonably priced ticket opportunities to see the Orchestra and a lack of young folks. In the run up to attending this performance, however, I learned that seeing the Cleveland Orchestra at Blossom is a family tradition for families all over the Northeast Ohio area; that’s a serious perk of living near Cleveland. Growing up in the middle of nowhere Indiana, there was never an opportunity to see something as special as the Cleveland Orchestra. It’s definitely something I’ll be taking my son to in the future. The acoustics at Blossom are admirably suited to listening to the Orchestra, from any vantage. At Severance Hall you sit inside the music, at Blossom it washes over you.
I really enjoyed the Meet the Musicians panel; hearing from Frank Cohen (clarinet), Amy Lee (violin), Stephen Rose (violin) and Paul Yancich (timpani). Frank in particular was charming and had some great stories to relate about growing up attending orchestral performances. All of the musicians spoke a bit about upcoming performances and their thoughts on the pieces and being part of the orchestra in general. When it was time for questions I asked if any of the musicians could expand on their forays into playing in non-traditional spaces, like the Happy Dog or in Ann Arbor, MI. Amy Lee has been active in that area and mentioned that some orchestra members have been trying to find a place to play on their night off during their upcoming trip to New York City, but were having difficulty finding a venue that would be cool with it. That’s really stupid of you, New York.
Our box seats were top notch (of course), and the chance to kibitz as the more musically knowledgeable asked Leila Josefowicz questions during the intermission was an added bonus to what had already been a wonderful evening. Post-intermission was spent on the lawn with dozens and dozens of families and the sounds of Anton Bruckner’s 9th Symphony. It was a perfect evening for classical music. Many thanks to the Cleveland Orchestra for the invitation.
[I]f it concerns anything not in our control, be prepared to say that it is nothing to you.
- Epictetus, The Enchiridion as translated by Elizabeth Carter
O, yes I saw how you said
what you said to him. That
flirt to fuck and sweet hip
shook once. I gave a glower.
Tense mute brow a bent
soot streak. In silence,
the mind accretes a heap
of imagined infidelities.
Though we entangle. Become
the roaring fire gullet the
frenzy wrangle the
clutch [[g][r]]asp torrent.
You in the shower and
I should be in with but I’m
reading texts on your phone or
scouring your email my
skull a black iron set by the
stove innocuous until
you touch it.
Some books say:
“To be possess is to hold, occupy
or reside in, without regard to
ownership.” “It does not belong
to you.” “Repent, therefore, of this
The way I stood over
those many women, still,
with silent loom, tangent
phrase, fear beyond
the closed door more than me.
but not for long, long ago, no longer.
Nor now allow all freedom, no
hand snap-tongue withering.
Morph yet not to bud a peach
but die to whitefly. Seed-
germ split to, spilt upon,
spit on, ground down to ground
unlikely. Every alley a false Buddha. Our
spoons have long handles. We cannot
but we could
feed each other.
Learn to speak
muzzled ox, or starve
with food upon your back.