Apr 23, 2010 15:46
she's got a staccato memory,
nothing smooth or grinding
the blips of recognition
catches me last year, this week, or next year
making up her life as she goes along
she's been places she's never been
slash and burned through years of detail
maybe 16 again
not close to 90.
what is this music?
what do you call this?
there's a common name,
probably dressed up, not to get confused with
something the same but different.
things start off dense
the song booms to life
bass ripping through centuries of concrete
gentle peeling of choral harmonies
noise.
a cacophony. It stops, rigid waves waiting for the circuit to repair.
a cacophony starts, no music at all. waiting for the circuit to compose.
Depends on the ear, to understand it
to give it a name.
"it doesn't seem much like sweating with a wand"
"it isn't what it once was."
the pictures are not the same.
i think you're slipping.
the pathways rip to life
marriage
youth
the cows keep coming in from the rain.
trivial boredom, this is eternal life.
one new day after another.
But, I've been here already.