Musique concrète
To the starkly eponymous,
A sound collage with dialogue .
The myth of the dead Paul .
A bottle of claret
Along the way forgotten ;
Cheeky bitch .
Clouds gather saturnine
In descending scale .
Will you forgive me ? M yes .
Thunder bouncing ear to ear,
Playful the Danse Macabre :
Xylophone bones
Behind the piper’s tunes .
Organ grinder ;
A Welsh rabbit
With sunflower-brown underpants
Pants in haste .
As time goes by :
A little bit older,
A little bit slower .
In Hertfordshire
Amid a shortage of grain
Rattling jewelry ladies enjoy
Cocktails, laughter like bells .
Vivace string quartet for the
Humpty Dumpty egg man,
Poe the point of perspective .
Nothing worse than not knowing,
Business deals falling through,
Juba juba juba :
Das Kapitol .
I informed him on the third night when the cock crew : when fortune falls . Ruse of baby coos . O, untimely death. Did you kids see a bike driven by a mistress? Entangled spokes in the rolling Volks . Right ! I’ve missed all of that ; it makes me a few days late compared with, like, wow ! the walrus and weird stuff like that, company freaks listening backwards on the reel-to-reel . Floral bark . All our fortunes are lost ; the Wheel of Fortune turns, the house always wins .
Brought this specimen,
Petri dish forty–two
Courtesy of Ponce de León :
I have nobody’s short–cuts
With the situation :
They are standing still .
The telegraph in remorse code :
Sit you down father,
Rest you . Alright .
So the wife calls me and we’d better go see a surgeon or whatever to price yellow knickers . So, on any road, we end up seeing the dentist instead, who gave her a pair of teeth which wasn’t any good at all, Polly, griping about the fit . I married, joined the bloody navy and sailed to sea . Block that kick ! Block that kick ! In my broken chair, my wings are broken and so is my hair . I’m not in the mood for whirling dervishes, fanatic ecstatic .
Rita lost her hair . M die .
How? Dogs for dogging,
Hands for clapping,
Birds for birding
And fish for fishing,
Them for themming
And when for winning .
Only to find the tenebristic
Night–watchman in the song
Of the night unaware of the
Presence in the building
That no–one stops to watch .Onion soup .
Industrial output .
Financial imbalance .
Thrusting it between his shoulder blades :
The end is near !—
The Watusi : the Twist
: El Dorado .
Loops of revolution out in
Snippets of Sibelius and Schumann :
Water–colored sound .
Take this brother,
May it serve you well .
Personality disorder,
Maybe it’s nothing .
Maybe even then, exposure could be difficult thing . Crosssection of discontent . It’s quick like the rush for peace is, because it’s so much, all too much . Fifty acorns tied in a sack . Good fishes in the kettle . It was like being naked . Hypothermia .
Block that kick !
Goodnight .
*[ WSB ].
Occupation : Poet . 