the unknownable transforming point 1/ 5

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass


When soft page did the interim other screen
deepen the growth of animate in art
just listen to the little birds arrival
and solemnity reach the non key sounds
while the cat pillars of wisdominated landscapes
dreary and sans
without the sounds she could make
along the soft page of leisurely strain
stream along the lines of paged ink and strain
where does this lead sound
when the soft interim scroll depth
inner when she called
and answers on a postcard to the figment of your dreams
in softer page grow
who’s that disturber
in the face of sake
who’s demo driver control freak inside her brain cells
beat beat beat
it could have been all go
but the Art of Europe stonati hot duplicate

Of of of

Interesting air from the eastern storm
of of of whatever you can think of next
whatever of
as long as you did not make desert
inside music rambles
in out beat beat over thought underlay
and bright sorrows of mine
can only render the proximity of night taint soft page

The all go

She died years ago now
with her large hand pressing down the avenue
all change the all go
into the ravenous jaws of time
lapses of memory
not back
don’t shout back into the black vast
not worth it
not a tall telling you just don’t go there
it’s soft page and hups we go

Or non time

Never lindy land is deeply engrossed
with her thought boxes today
it’s in the head start and soft places
and mindering to forget what she played before
candlelight chopin was all go
not an imaginary margin of doubt
wherein doting observance
watching and holding some whensoever riddles or non time
for four minutes 33
it’s all you can do to play absolute zero
can this be whatever would be
can it still beat you at the timings
and metronome tickles at the edges of air
pliant with withering potter over keys
of soft pages and no sharps or flats
wish it wish every rant is not be be disturbed

Playing loud pedals

Lindy is still playing loud pedals
and banging the wall rhyme
a dictionary smells like old and new in 1975
and only now use use
use not less but more
soft pages more had the image
of lindy leap
lindy image of me was of volcano
internalise leap quick monday





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