aphrodite chancing 17 one


the closed door swing

unliving the soprano

gargle resting

in softer than eyelids

louder than fronds


slower than possible sound


Virginia Aurora Scott 2017

the unknowable transforming point 431/ 433

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

Wire up

Modern pianist
modern times
modern modernity
modern eternity modern ficfucs
and please erase the professor with the erase tool
correct colour pixelated out of the image photoshop polemics
and with the street looking darker than dark
now the greater cypress’s after shadow looms
undulating to the wind rhythm
the picture window would be returning
to its previous gloom and disarray
a spent dream
an oracular interdependence with quiet dishwasher hum
human aspiration and now greyer the sky prepares for dimmer
swifter swizzling quickly up and fro
more on the glint of an eye from the moths and the mould
and the cavernous basement establishment
in 53 pianos disassembled next to the shop
now I know who you mean # lindy
that’s been there for years
eh # wafer
you know the man with all the 53 pianos next to the shop # lindy
ah ok # wafer
I wouldn’t mind having a wee rummage around though # lindy
although the last thing I need is a piano
it would be nice though to find one to wire up
for some electro samples and stuff
you know customise it as it were
oh aye # wafer
aye # lindy
well xdefinite inhibition indefinite art loan co
and by now wafer was away with the fairies wherever that was
and even if he knew would that make any difference at all
to his forensic indifference
could buy one and old collard or something
well built at least a good piece of forestry commission
not sure if I have enough space though
just a passing loud think # lindy

Subliminal on off flicker

Shadow of the street light on next door across
two ovals on middle bay window darker glows
new pen and all tomorrows thinking
the red curtains drawn in over long windows
traffic humming high road
traffic distant and swifts skirls
and next another piano room
or does there even have to be anything like that
or one by one the piano rooms fade
diminish retrace track lace inter vanish
reappear reconstruct
reactivate microwave shadow
quiet and strip light surged subliminal on off on off flicker
off with the two pianos the bergere and two flat pack tables
the two lady lamps with 100 watt bulbs
side long glancing laptop keyboard
and how should anyone know
except that the tall triple glazed window crenellation
seemed now to look down on a long straight street
busied and populated by urban activity
cold steely rain drop preludes rivering determinately
crisscrossing its glossy surface
a sitting softly to watch the laptop screensaver
swirl slow spiral auras
well # lindy
what next
modern pianists I think it best to start with the 2
as the 1 got lost when the last laptop died
still morning ficfuc
at least a point of reference
start at the top
go with flow sway time shift serenity

Think positive

Departure les adieux seems more focused
attention to the progression and architrave
the tectonic and shifting
the advanced and regressed
the circuitous and binary parallelogramatic co-incidence
of key structure timing balance figuratively swelling
the sound waves and absolute zeros
winding up and slowly and at one time one speed
the inventioning rhythmically perambulating
yeah this and that
and les adieux
and the street looking on
and the mirror image the retrograde
and hill becoming the long narrative
and stretching it’s confines
listening to where it’s going
following the fix switch of the change of no key
no measures
no breaks in the acoustic repeat
repeat beat beat long dawn
better go now # lindy
this is the point
time passed
followed the glide
worked it’s way lane wards
this mirrored piano central
and modern pianists to go
the street now quiet and empty
hold hold on
till tomorrows thinking will follow you there
in the same thing
quietly locking the door
and softly slinking off into the new day
sometimes reality unfrets the grey pasted paper skyless in gaza
for example
when octagonal feeling cirrhosis clamp
guts the font after all
in the gizzard of behaving nicely
when all was about to be said and done about the cello
about it and oh what would anyone notice
about the roots knotting underground
grown after all these years after realities could have been faced
but most likely the big hand of the clock
just kept moving round in fits and starts
it can’t be the wolf again
but she’s thinking about up in the high throat
pushing at the tear taps and volition
quick back into the mirror room
and bring the wolf with you
she can howl in her dream and keep you safe
if you speak to her in pentameter oblique and strategic
it does not all end in tears
even when the worst is over
adjustable new piano stool was delivered
and placed by the newer of the two pianos
both now had good seating sink posturally
and off with imaginary audience to the syntactic restorations
hold back catalogue of slow moonlit sonatas
suddenly speed arhythmic sound tags
sweet clusters chords
and the lady downstairs couldn’t hear a thing
that’s more like it # lindy
face the music and arrest this image
frozen on an eye
somewhere in the standing in this space
don’t like to say this but
people are so boring because they speak
and don’t listen to the sound they make
how come it’s all so impossibly inside out
tone colour etc
how come we keep trying to make it that way
how come
what’s the matter with you now # wafer
you sound as if you walked through a hedge backwards
or more like the hedge walked through me backwards # lindy
it’s been a bit of a shambles
not the mirror piano room
but the professor from the picture window
he’s got it in his head hat the subsidence in his basement
is due to the weight of the two grand pianos and bergere
despite the fact that we had not been there long
he said that # wafer
aye # lindy
think positive # wafer
just freeze him out
he’ll soon come to one of his sense or another
he’s just embittering confusions and after storm abandonments
just in the nick of time
just as the door slammed
and the turbines waved post modern thought
air from another planet landed microscopically focussing on nothing in particular
in and around the triple glazed window
looking down the long lanes dark alley of walking home it’s way here and not necessarily anywhere
meanwhile the wolf snored quietly underneath and by the door
no one can get in here anyway
what’s he going to do
write some missive
he’ll probably forget for a start # wafer
I think you’re right # lindy
he can’t even remember to eat his cake
perched north of his reach when he works
it’s all a bit of a sci-fi messmare in there
dangling croftamie and rock and roll suicide
he misremembers and misvisions miscellaneously and continually
due to the starry nights and microwave binaries
from the repeater at a venue outside his back door
despite the mini micro climate tree growth under his milky wood
then there’s another thing
well anyway need to keep the ficfuc out of that barrel of keys
yeah # wafer in the mean wander
the big dog was barking for biscuits by the time he’d gone up hill downhill
to the river bridge and so forth past the picture window which was now in darkness
and for all intents the last of this purposeful long sighs was still to be exhaled
in time to the giuccardi resonance
which was in it’s process
something lindy has always wanted to do moonlit or not
how about the woman
how about the song she received from the giver sender
big light reflection next door opposite
light white the grey troubled sky
like inner feeling uncongealed unaligned misread and fragile
but we’re in the mirror room now # lindy
and that’s the main thing


2014/ 2015

the unknowable transforming point 426/ 430

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

The professor’s back light

Could do with some distraction
behind the silence looms the air
the picture window shifts
surround sounds arc behind the sky
the turbines slowly waving loflty on the crest oblivions
side glancing peripheral and inner visions
to the keys of one piano come the chords
designing quick soft etch into airless air quiet
and desiccated repeat repeat view into the picture
how deep is the perspective
look to the professor’s back light halo corona tut and out breath
off to another town
carry your history in your head
inner geography past present
and oh not the future
we can’t go there
is there a piano room ahead
traffic light says go forward walk into the desert
life doesn’t mean you can’t do it only that your still thinking
up into the clear dali sky

something like that anyway
just scan it
and blue trans lunminousity on the sill of my window
from light sky
sit down at the newer of the two pianos
not even a note today

Unsequential thinking

Nursie nursie would you leave me some calm
formidable and unsequential thinking
you know
I dreamt I was photographing gilbert and george
and a girl with a cello playing microtone chords
then next day I found I was clovering through
lush fields of hexadecimal veridian pigment
gracefully chauffeuring my motionless self
through the four gated city’s final pages
would you
leave me
some calm

The professor’s computer

Calmer this day of seventeen sun lit days
car rush down street
and sunlit picture window closing
to the piano world of simultaneous out breaths
the lean becoming too much headwork affrontery
for the curious amateur
who’s admiration of the view light and airy deconstructs the 4’33”
and the professor’s computer
lighting the space between the two small windows
looking onto the street
replicating stances and incarnations
visible to the discerning eyeless pedestrian
through the yellow gauze
you misremember me
you misremember my name
now at the piano the two pianists nod imperceptibly
and begin to play
one piano on chordal minimalistic deep
and the other on the long melodic pantonal slow sway
the verandah looking into the veridian
distant drone of motorcycle tribes
tripping the local avenues
light from foreign climes and back to the sarabandes
scanning ancient kodachrome
run resolution high to the double bar line

Don’t start

17 hours to restore the external hard drive
a good excuse to forget what was happening underground
roots moving animals and safe foundations
and decompositional deconstructions sweet demeanour
I’m your friend developing decompositional
let’s not be too sad it’s already the twilight
play 2 pianos imaginary
carried on accompanied by tap tapping computer keyboard
uninterrupted till dusky day decided to
well god knows it seemed like hours anyway
and this music was somewhat tango du reve yawn
let’s get on with something more like a challenge
need to move the pianos for a start
there’s too many moths and mould in here for survival of the fittest # lindy
Iv’e never known anything like such a basement place
full of pianos of all kinds # wafer
what are you talking about now # lindy
oh the other day I came across this place
he called himself a piano technician full of ancient pianos
which he would restore to order
tinder just tinder
upstairs 2 people playing two pianos
little piece of you and the like
to entertain the hoards who at the particular tick numbered zero # wafer
so not the piano heaven one dreams of
with 12 ft steinways that once belonged to very rich
and famous song composers and lust at good price # lindy
and by the way I’m shifting my pianos from the professor’s place
the vibes are getting a bit dark
Iv’e got the feeling the machine will be rusted before long
his wife left him you know
how come # wafer
I just think I need a place of my own not shared like that
the prof’s always sitting at the computer
gazing with luminous halo at the flickers
and can’t answer simple questions # lindy
oh is that a fact # wafer
yeah i’m not sure that’s not tantamount to discrimination you know # lindy
och don’t start # wafer
the two stared deep into their distant horizons
and no more was to have been said
before long more could be said
the pianos were being relocated
by a very large round man with a wee trolley
to some place safe if less glamorous
round the corner from the flat
the land lady more accommodating and less intrusive
but you never know

Piano relocation zone

Now practising and recording for the new modern pianist could restart in earnest
just in the tick of the clock time
as the picture window verandah establishment was experiencing an historic subsidence
which was to lead in the not too distant
to a general collapse of it’s descending driveway and drain
subsequent scaffolding and high pitched micro drilling
caused alarm and disturbance to the neighbouring residents
who were having to practise their cellos in the evenings
instead of the morning at fresh moment
it would be some time
I’m glad to be out of it # lindy
the prof was always trying to offer me sweet certainties
and his could you not stay a little while longer gave me the creeps
with his low slung voice after quick mirror glance
and hand on the bottle opener
yeah # wafer
deep into digital camera reveries and reviews
I was never sure if he wasn’t recording my sets on his computer # lindy
anyway iv’e moved the pianos and the bergere
back again to the sound proof place near the station
a bit more expensive but anonymous
can walk there anytime
not tied to the picture window time space continuum
and the professors tiny windows
people always looking in through the peach coloured tab curtains and chinks
what are you talking about now # wafer
anything you like # lindy
since you don’t listen anyway undertone
och away and make some tea # wafer
this would not be the time
to enter into the hermeneutics of libation making ceremonies
from the special shop rota
it would be perhaps easier said than done
so lindy hummed her little clyde tune
to hold her fire and pride herself in her piano relocation zone
minus impenetrable synonymous accoutrements

the unknowable transforming point 421/425

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

Be strong

At about this time of early eve
it is important to stay still
be still in the automatic
go piano go into the yellow ficfuc
hold on to your construction
and not to roll out any red carpets
it’s impossible anyway
let’s just play something soothing
but the pianos were just recovering
from a particularly difficult lesson on the art of europe
the arrangement still needed some overhauling
and back to the future amendments with softlence
closed thinking over ridden grey scottish moody clouds now
there art in a cool breeze
there the ton kunst
fill your grape tone gel
there can be earthquakes in places when you sit
there this overpowering strangeness from deep earth
swing lampshades creaks
and furniture imperceptibly moving deep earth
but still you hear it years on
in thankfully strong buildings
quake over minim crotchet find
your analysis pinned to the back of your head
in reality the trick’s to be strong in your own way
importance of looking seeing feeling
listening at the back of your mind
the unhindered coiling recoiling
the inner chink
your own independence
free encoiled enchorded encoded
encrusted in memorial
patriarchal festoons of dangerous escalators of tall stories
don’t look into there
it will only draw you into her day
was she drawing you into her time lapse apostrophed galantine
something she made earlier
much earlier in time shared with echoes from past inoperations
I was sound dead for a long time
running on the thirteen per cent
the rest volcano hiss steam hiss
the better to work on giantess cancrizanz for tune
it was fortunate to discover
how the backward thinking translates into song height activity
the dot is the moment of contact with the piano piano keys
and it’s feeling of the piano key
stay look the dreamy lindy still at the score
trying to work out the feeling of the langourous leaps

Thin line inhumanity

Inter city slow train
six people gaze out cooked and bored on a scorching afternoon
down the barriers there could have been a barrier
and then the midpoint arrives and departs
watch out the fat lady might be getting her voice back
her real voice or the voice in her voice # lindy
the voice of power or the voice of anxious curiosity # the psychotherapist
sipping red wine uncertainty
leaving it the way he found it
across the auschwitz impossibility place of survivors children
and feelings apocalyptic
thin line inhumanity
4tett for the end of time
cello climb reach voice full
and hear it right there
end of lighting cigarettes
a calming little ritual
bad for the the voice
which voice # lindy
the throat or head
ssh the voice in my head is thinking and transplanting
transporting my pen further and further
across distances parks or vistas to view as you go
like what for example # lindy
a ravine
no no for ficfuc sake
leave the ravines out of the ravel or unravelling
don’t look now
these two old friends are travelling through landscapes
yeah ok ok give me a minute # lindy

Snails pace satie

The room as quiet
as she sat down at the older of the two pianos
rummaging through the music collections
of this and that
and the other composers
most of the big works
and some others
then breathe in breathe out
and struck some dissonant diverting rarities
before settling down to snails pace satie
the professor back to the picture window
he sank down in the imac hole
and entered the nevers
whiling away the third attempt at the coffee and cake
north of his hand reach
walkers passed by the two small windows
attempting a slow inward glance
as the music’s motion ebbed flowed
frequently attracting some of the heading towards figments thoughtless
they may or may not have started to think
what is that something
or other bypassing volcanos
as often as not
round the peripheral glimpse
through the small window
a graceful ascend and descend of piano hands
could silhouettedly be visioned
the hands graceful muscular
musculature sinking gently over one key and the others
till well in her imagination
she could see the wolf lying sleeping
grey strong fur and blinky eyes
ear flicking in silence
not the now hugely academically rationalised mythologised fictional 4’33 one
but the real silence of the peaceful mind
when the voices themselves
wander off balancing acts
of preposterously anxious curiosity on their heads as they go
like a little band of strangers than fiction


Grip sun of the next door over furniture
in the window green wall slats reflect
double little window on the left partially open
glass bowl reading time and watching the interim
go car go up the road swooshy past the windows
sanity by and by another down go
now quiet some engines
white paint
and the next day no piano room
invention break in somewhere else
the picture window empty
no room for the imagination imprint
when it crazes erratically
easier to grip the microscope thoughtlets
incriminating keys and modulations under the sky scape
I bet the view is different today though
as little moan voices walk past the bay window
sweep across the photographic shadow bird
shadows red brick wall intermezzo vehicle
shall we move to another venue
let’s remain alfresco though
the veranda rusted and unpainted
displaying various layers
interesting shades of rotting broken chair
down down in the basement pianos
in varying stages of ancient abandon
once tuned and lit by candles
and fast finger little figures amongst the other detours
withheld phone numbers boxes
keys ebony and no message left
this room is empty
the pianos make shadows on the floral carpet
probably turkish
the dust floats on sunbeams and rests silvery at the end of it’s flight
keys black and white to be feather dusted off
at next tick of one of the clocks or metronome
mark beat time
if the keys
if the photography
if the imagination running on empty
if the arrival over water
if the departure over daylight
faster than what took you so long when she was 3
if the answer in the verandah rust patterned tubular porosis
was positive
then the evening chat at the little rotting table
could become as regular say every thursday
but there is never anyone on the verandah
on it’s narrowness like an after dinner mint
it’s wafer like slates externally interconnecting to steel girder
rust of layers between that and the rest
there was a view till forested with trees that I liked
when still in their pots rooting ravenously downhill
folding track smell and now a leafy glade
nearly to the river path trail even

Shot as the blue sky

She was at the throat in a kindly way
but ahead of it this time
tracking synaesthesia abrasions for all it was worth
the piano resting in hums
far from inter city line’s hoot train up to another little town
with only two or three passengers
packed and reading
destination hot summer far behind
air shift still quiet in the picture window
as sea gulls swarm encircling round up high air
just there over in the hills
the someone who is no longer there
moved on an island
kiss to the the coast shore
unlandlocking ampersands and familiar figures
shot as the blue sky
still burns at the rust
pleased to leave the instruments in parenthesis
while radio frequencies pulse travel collide
unnoticed by most
intolerable to some
ring modulators andante
look into the piano room
from one of the two little windows
see the professor’s illuminated face concerned contraction
filing reports
food for database
data fill
cloud fill
method quiet whir of ancient tower
and soft bell upload complete

the unknowable transforming point 416/ 420

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

You can if you like

Two elbows leave to resonate and pluck the bottom D
let ring modulator take the rest
and quickly shoot off the pedal chink there and then
some finger work with arm width cascades and chords
and we have an inter10 red
never mind loosing my voice stuff
sniffing back the tears grief and ficfucs
trying to navigate rejection
sing abandonable snow men
and don’t look down the glass lift
as it supermiles it up to the top floor high anxiety
it was the bechstein needed tuning
all go moths in the felts
and smooth talker under takes to make me an offer
like the drop of a hat
head of tails win lose win
just about lost in the veering contours of hill climb
and now the steady vista suns itself
as the tranquil faraday cages of surrounding visions
measure the how long it took to get here statistics
and nod as the no going back became prescriptive reality
the pianos all go
if they could only play themselves
rewire the silent 4’33’ constricture
and ficfuc it to a van allen belt near you
sounds made from instruments
you can speak if you like
you can sing if you like
you can shout if you like
you can cry if you like
you can hum if you like
you can whistle if you like
but up there on that mountain
looking over to the far islands and coasts
no one will believe you if your not telling the truth
contort the stone of superiority at me
like a gaze temporarily out of film stock
and feed it to the incalculable risk
knitting emotion for arachnid lunch
out of flies today how come
moths got blasted by a freezing spray
then she started with the bach busoni chaconne
and that was the end of that
but the beginning of several happy coincidences

The long last light

Now after several changes of tram
round the north circular of a european town
the practise room with nice black piano got grimmed
some rock band curly hair and moody playing louder
and how could I hear my beethoven even a bit
this was a time when the wee hand of the fob watch
kept falling off
even after paying a lot to get it fixed and fixed again
after that just left it in a box
and that must be where it is now
she was calling several people at once
phone programmes who answers gets the gig
how come
lets do some improvs and play we not the old faithfuls
but eventually it was unsustainable inconclusive
mar the sound copter fly over resonate deep overhead
and still acoustic leans in the picture window
in the bright light the view becomes overgrown
and fluctuating rhythms of return copter
then off into the hills quartet
let us see how the clock dock unwinds it’s life away
as temperature rises in the neon forest
and the long shadows of the long last light
of several interested parties
wrings it’s hands in exasperation
where is why and the good invention
guess who came to see me
several arrows pointing in different directions
till you get to the theatre
not an easy find if you’re not used to navigating your way
through a georgian town at 4.30 to 5 on a winter’s night
in the pouring effluvia dripping speculatively off
ficfuc and into the incandesence of strong light

Another wooly mess

And less is more of something
what the hell am I doing here
there’s not even a piano in this place
go go my eyes blinded by migraine insanity
got to get home before the left eye
and lie flat breath deep hot water bottle
and soft soup till it’s all better
where’s my piano
this is no piano room
not as I know it
but let’s not beat into several other people’s bushes at no 2
with her lilly of the valley
and her hand pushed mower quiet whirr
and a piano that has not been tuned for 30 years
here we are at the beginning of another wooly mess in other words
it’s not over till the fat lady sings at her piano
she’s lost her voice
and who’s the fat lady
there was one once
with piano duet intensity sit tight in there
with all you could eat from 10 dollars
she was trying to light a cigarette with mrs caligari’s lighter
but she didn’t know it yet
for electric violin and spooky electro chords
another one bites the dusty starling
and other annoying wingeds
there’s only one thing for it
the wolf at the throat looking guardedly into my peripheral vision
needs to buy some buckets
to collect all the tear oceans flooding simultaneously
from the eyes on both heads
reflecting some interpersonal memory travelling through doors
needs to be kept under control this wolf
this up sway
ask her nicely to give me some warning
and ask her in a nice way why are you doing this to me
after all said
or is there anybody out there
is there a fifty third dimension
and answer my question
or can we speak plain piano
unfix my dreaming head the one with the piano inside
if that’s ok with you
leave it to the mantelpiece and excessively decorated interior
there used to be other dreaming heads to hide in
but not now it’s just me and the pianos
and the wolf at the door
better to tip toe tip fingerly off ficfuc
and leave it to the laundromat

Tricky dream yeah

The chink has to stay open whatever it takes
it follows the train of thought on to different continents
thundering past the end of the garden
steam dream tricky dream yeah
you with the squinty eyes
as she cut off the scratchy labels
from her new punk cardigan
you never get this with prada dear
let’s say it’s all not ovary till the fat lad has lost her voice
so dining car in the vast picture window
the professor’s fast type
with coffee and cake perched precariously north
the scene is setting and although you can here the tapping
tipping pen to paper and word process
think it would outrageously rude at this particular
to make any assumptions
cast any aspersions knowing that it’s thursday night
and not the usual friday
and who the hell was nat tate anyway
artistic favola wing it
sun deep shine into the next door off side window
greeny light shadow patterns
and furniture back to the window
slat blinds little top window airy open
and blue blue electric blue
can we have some allergic peace please
in time to copters rotors aqua whining off into the equidistance
crows slam doors squidge of rubber on pavement
cars cars two of them one up one down
weeds everywhere
remember its’ best just to spit it out
not leave stuff lying around
and climb every mountain alpine or not
could be a stac like stac pollaidh
that’s the way
now you feel better
everyone’s left speechless
so may cars
so many miffed ends unresolved
and cycling down a cycle path near you
costs hundreds and thousands
to keep it in good nick
the bicycle the path the river
and busy drift traffic hum
and incontrovertible hustle
matters of opinion
and cantilever action in crowds
and got to stay on top of it all
whither in the piano room or not
and this is a new chapter anyway
the piano room has changed a bit
big picture window now overlooking the glens
and leafy river bed
anything can happen
more in time real real time

Pollen soup

Light on the tower left window next door across
and full moon pale and lucent
behind the tower moving slow sway
the picture window 2 pianos
one old one
one not so old
and 2 pianists tail to tail on
the 2 times pianist picture window
to the right of one on the left of the other
held in full moon translucence sitting silent
professor at the back of the large room
between the two small windows
at blank screen watching the moon dot slowly travelling
soft valise in his hands containing documents
files of importance
across the road to the right
the old lay who worked in east berlin
the wide view of surrounding hills
and turbines still in the summery pollen soup plain song
arrest this image frozen on an eye
art of europe of art eye
on frozen image this arrest
it’s almost disappearing now
behind the tower turret roof
around the back lane of the picture window
glow soon to become brighter as dark grey gives to dark
the owl on the verandah hoot reflect
bounce over the river valley
where excavations foundations roman bric a brac
in recent moratorium
no more bunking off in the woods now
new schools efficient digital surveillance changes
moon on the other side of the turret now
and in between it and the tree the radiance taciturn
a huge rainbow over the house next door down
in a shady sky heat and light summer rain
pollen drifty last songs more intensity
as sun beams it arches still
dog bark and fading street voices
car sirens and lost it’s nearly gone now
talking in hush tones in the street
slightly disappearing into grey blue dusty sky
lighter grey now
plane overhead start engine
the chink has it’s opening
but energy rushed through from the other side
and everyone changes
don’t let them thru
they have to stay where they are
otherwise you’ll lose all the yourself pinned together
leave them where they are
you don’t have to do this
that’s why your in the land of diffused boundaries
let em wait
let em think about their own part
their own reference motives
no use starting again with the same only different
ooh- nearly went back up the primoridal tunnel
the dark lane
this is my chink
I found it
it’s mine
inner light hair unravelling
no two way play space

the unknowable transforming point 411/415

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

With biro medium

There now the sky a deeper blue and brighter sun
and run with the pen now after days of typing
thinking to edit away some here some there of the precious little letter bundles
and thinking twice to keep what’s there and only small corrections
if in when in the tension shoulders
and slow motion next
undercurrented the distant sound of a radio
or some one trying to play something instrumental
airplane hum high hum and car passing glide
dove singing little loop of 5
get song lyrics and interlace imaginary resolutions perspectives
developing simultaneous constructions
and deconstructions writing with biro medium and so forth

Fast downhill come on

This is the end
river over me
this canvas etc
try also thing of running simultaneously side by side
in the meanwhile
a refreshment of dynamic
hoot car and fast downhill come on

Ever ink saga

The lime coloured lampshade with large magenta leaf
leapt at the chance to contribute to this ever ink saga
lilliana in particular agreed with this
and lifted her mobile phone
texting with her right to lindy
while practising double thirds chromatic with her left
make it snappy
you need to write me a story or not # lilliana
but # lindy i’ve run out of letters
use your fridge magnets # lilliana
don’t be so facetious # lindy
my fridge magnet will go on strike
do I look as if I give a ficfuc # lilliana
it’s basically conceptual
you mean you me and the lampshade with haiku interludes
compliments of my fridge magnets # lindy
well what’s wrong with that he he he # lilliana
och why don’t you get back to your practise # lindy
mmmm # lilliana and by the way dear
get the song lyrics cut and paste
may be better than separate columns
also repeat streams
like the idea
or different word loops than the ones already set
changing the sense of meaning might be nice
good possibilities
sea of textures tapestry interlacing words along lines
rhythm and get the movement flowing jiving across closed doors
no punctuation bar lines or phrasing
just don’t look now
these soft pages and interims on the other screen
hands on the biggest piano keys soft keys
taking care not to take the wrong turn right
that seems to make more sense than cutting and shredding
and point click tap deleting
move it on up and notch and keep left
the giantess too with broonie words patterns
mathematically ordered to numbers
of original compositional choices
seventeens and twenty three
and better the absolute zero you know
what time do you call this # a sleepy wafer
2am # lindy
i’ve been inventing a bedtime tale to help lilliana
with her insomnia actually
and its’ unfolding took this long
ay that’ll be right # wafer
well # lindy as she passed him a her usb flash bay
loch lomond wafer card
stick that in your laptop and smoke it
ok ok right # wafer
but it would be some long time before wafer perused said gadgetry
it’s repetitions vernacular and fairies left him stretching
for the latest digital camera photo stats and specs
day day turn light and grey
rook room clacks and busy road
park in the way of embarrassment
and don’t forget to ask if your piano is in the way
excuse me # lindy is my piano mind in the way
does it clash with your stereotypical ideology visions and perpetuities
does it turn your mind in a self defensive contextual shunt
excuse me silences and long lines
does your will clash with the smell of biro ink of ronika
who is ronika # wafer
she keeps butting in
well why don’t you ask her # lindy
maybe she’s the authoress looking back through the word mirror
figment of the copious imaginary word waves and currents
what # wafer
ok I’ll ask her at least text her # lindy
hello or no delete
hi there ronika
we in the chink and the giantess
just wanted to know who you are
later on a message from ronika
hello the chink and the giantess
thank you for your text
the answer to your question who are you etc is
I don’t know
I’ve asked myself this question so many times
sometimes I think I’m me and sometimes not
more and even most often I just don’t know
specially in the morning and before 2 pm
sometimes at that time there’s a chink
but that depends on whether I sleep or not
if I get woken up
at the 1st bbc radio 4 LW shipping forecast
then forget it
if I sleep all the way to the 2nd sf
I might have some clarity
ping new message
lindy the chink and the giantess protagonists
eagerly read the above
and some strange blank expressions
wriggled across their forehead lines wormeries
eyes turned up to the missing weather vane
minus filler
well ok # lindy by return
but are you the authoress
I don’t know # ronika
it is entirely possible as I often put pen to paper
sometimes writing dots and symbols
over and on paper with 5 line and 4 space staves
romanticas and visions
and sometimes spreading silvine pages
with simple grey lines and red margins
with words that everybody knows
in different orders and combinations
according to inner tidal surges and electromagnetic fields
as to whether I would have written the words you mention
ie the chink and the giantess
I could not be certain
ah# lindy
I rather think this is a matter of opinion
clearly if one sits at a blank page
and word waves ebb and scratch squirt scribble
it must be the case that the resulting
word fictives and fabulations
belong to the owner of the pen or paper
who is presumably present at that particular tick of the clock
ronika at this sound stage becomes bored and detached
and runs for dreamy tunnels
not so fancy such cross patch questioning precision
with microwave exposure
the girl in the piano room beckons with fore finger
or is she waving in a different language
there amongst the collonades and red wine uncertainties
amorphous incantations and fast finger while the cats away
into these tight corners and nano moments are placed
the translucent shards that jigsaw together
and complete imaginary landscapes years later
and later when nothing is clear and everything is clear
did you ever hear from ronika again # wafer
much later on
ooh- I’d forgotten about her # lindy
the answer is no actually
so you never did find out
if she had anything to do with the c and the g # wafer
em no I don’t suppose I really did # lindy
but what if you wanted to publish it in some shape or form
you know on youtube or one of these book places
with or without music # wafer
well I had not thought about that # lindy
it can hardly be anon though can it and
there was a wee tune bit
what did you think of it btw
em oh yeah I’ve forgotten
I’ll have to read it again # wafer
really # lindy
with a downward pitch
I bet you never read it in the first place
it depends what you mean by read
# wafer
and which part of read do you not understand # lindy
and with that she too retires to the piano room
by this time with large picture window
overlooking pastures safely grazed and river bed
and sporting luxurious hand made artistically braced library shelving and sound proofing
tap tapping the hammer over the street roof repairs
cars cars pass up and down
reflecting thru lindy’s window
where she’s selfing at her keyboard
giving the impressions she’s waving or beckoning
could she be finally catching up with ronika
writing and plumbing imaginary depths
while the outside veranda rusts and resonates before the machine
and confirming her responsibility
for the word frets and phrases
in the preceding processions
up to the 10th floor of 10 and back
och ronika is the least of it # wafer eventually
I’m with the giantess
the story is her’s
I suppose you could say that because of the dream
but I still think someone earthly on this earth
has to take responsibility # lindy
with postlude deconstructionism setting in
well what if you copyright it eh
ronika probably won’t mind
she’s imaginary yeah # wafer
mmm # lindy

Beidermeier bergere

Well I suppose that could have been all about it
all things considered by the water and stream
in a field of black daisies
and whatever other sound bite could push itself in
under a now greying sky
lindy sank safely down into
her great grandmother’s beidermeier bergere
which had always been referred to as the love seat
and had been given to her gg years once upon a time ago
by her best friend ethel who had moved away
to a place called westbury on trym
in a town called bristol
and forgot all about it
as silence 4’33” fell over the piano room
a schumann intermezzo still imperceptibly resonating feral and romantic
under fingers under water under hand
gently conversing with the large strong supermarket bag
placed openly on a contemporary bench mark table
it’s contents not having been subjected to musak
but absorbed in the sooth electrical whirs of ventilations
gentle shoppers conversing and hum of fridge units
a little like a stockhausen mantra minus the ring modulator flowing glides
and deep in the forest
correct flow of pen and paper crank up the ficfuc
which despotism soon plumbs imaginary depths
of the key storm chink

Bunuel by the piano

The telephone and it’s relationship to the piano room under dusk
how can postmodernity approximate the resulting contextual glyphs
horizontally preluding the empty sound mind
if left to itself it can accumulate volcanically
caller display defense shield
wait till later till the fuss has died down
how sound boards wish them dead or alive
when grooved into dialogues kontaktes full of egoic gestures
a wire pulled out of it’s socket on a alternate eve
and the participating pianist recapitulating resignedly
there was the likelihood that the caller would never understand
how to stop gyrating in mirror self
flashing symphonies of sympathy to a perceived loser
the shadow of the bright sky real sun up
in the full moon brightness
arriving later at two pianos near you
the defender of the defensive risks
risks let take risks
to alienate the poor dick who did all the donkey work
in the first andalou by the way all piano go
dali and bunuel by the piano way
what it’s about that
this and the les adieux that the art of europe didn’t underestimate