the unknowable transforming point 261/ 265

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

Far too far gone

Now ecology and new terminology evolving under the ecliptic
atlas eclipticalis and etudes australes that’s where he went
desertification all in the line of vision
communication to beat down
head in a book store smell bound
far too far gone for that
ships that pass in the night
light over the sound view
from the far field
there were other perspectives inevitably
maybe touching the edge

someone’s elise fur

Lunaria rewrite of solo little pieces
which after fourteen years dormance in a box
seemed to bear no resemblance to anything relevant
so a variant emerged
in fact all work still in there
one way all in progress
maybe where to
what for
every excuse in someone’s elise
fur the enthusiastic bagatelle in out
no one ever played the middle bit
and what about the others
till finally it all went away
except the piano’s still
and not so still
she maybe met her in the night
ex lover the one hidden from view


Nachtstucke and the comfort eating wife
of three small children under replacement
then there was the woman
who fair headed
can’t name names
nice bluthner piano though
in a room
over looking paisley road west
playing it note for note
busy traffic passed by
light grey light facing window
strong tea and gas peep
the door painted black
and frosts of glass
seeing the shadow arrive
open inside gas fire warm red rug
paisley pattern skirt I wore on stage
ancient soft fabric
gently does it
wonder how long the machine rusted
loudly inhaling smoking in tandem
while the streetlight shone through the light green curtains
take you to the bus
it’s dark and spitting little drops
wait bus stop wave as I got on
shawlands next
hungering for something maybe
only what all about the white mini at the sauna
lost hunger the restriction food
restoration of the resonance
of 1st time separation cot and caught

If the

if the moon
if the day
if the sunrise
if the forever
if the if
if the digestion
if the maybe
if the wagner
if the chaise
if the berryknowes
if the beidermeyer chair
if all the tea in coopers
if the tipping point
if the serenade
if the tranquility
if the barcode
if some alternative
if the surrealism
if the art of europe a design fault
if the tsunami
if the quintessential
if the dream
if the water air and fire
if the earth
if the silvine page
if all of the above
spoken word lifting head
never mattered
spin and trail
if it all turned around
if back to back
if the dust on my piano
edinburgh dust still there
it if wasn’t for the bakelite radios and telephones
and semicircular anythings
womb speak and elephants

Faster again

Memorise you big sonata for the day after next
still in the room huh
mind clamp routine how long before the machine
you have to watch you know
faster than schneller
and faster again
enduring maybes and awkward inclines
till the longest day upon us and
and were back in the jungle
primo tempo
psych up for seven track vox and some spoken word
ear to hear and not overload the modern pianists trax
if I had not lost one or the other on the beach that day
the red would look clearer you
off switches
all this on and on



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