PIECES OF THE MOON - DAVID S. WARE RECORDING SESSION
by Steve Dalachinsky
1.
Love Poem
greet
me
give
me your desires
float
with me until range of
des(s)erts
filters
thru
heart / flavored lips
send me a postcard
from your snatch
i'll stamp it with
my tongue
then
bite off a piece of the moon
for
me.
2. all the way down
tomorrow
is the rush hour - William Parker
all
the way down into
the blues
&
away
all the way past
all
the way
from the depths
to
all the way down
the
jaws
rich
squeal of linear
wheeling
sovereign
past
& dark teeth
all
the way down
thru
reds & gaping whites
&
away
onto
& slide beyond the edge of
this
earth
thru jettisoned
luminosity
(the moon's generosity)
all
the way down
all the way down
to
the bottom of your shoes.
3. the force
the force
the commodity
the discharge & hustle
the flavor of a native land
never seen
but
heard
tasted
smelled
the land of birth
discounting
your very bullet-prone
boredom
the isolation & falling
series
brutal attacks upon
unborn levels of
the cry
ascend
your call & the hard crisis of wills
flush ducts
of oddity
your
fingers in the future
forage
thru the fragments
of
tomorrow (pieces of moon/pale.)
4. the
model family
car
crash
CLOCK
together
bright lights slam doors into your eyes
where
are you now?
the
moon perhaps?
your stomach holds itself together
with greed intent & deceit
your mouth a bowl of pits
spit into the careless nite - pieces of where you are perhaps?
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
uhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
ahhhhhhh
uhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
gurgling
gurgling not gurgling
it's
ok. leave the door open. we'll find you.
5. organic
form (cadenza)
crisp
not
the dull colors of
morning
crisp
now
en masse the colors disperse
with
the oncoming cold
pushed
the
music bounces from one skin to another
on
cloud to another moving eastward
northward
moving the skin outward up &
downward
the
crowd gathers for the matinee performance of GYPSY
wearing
evening clothes
a
ghost of a moon hangs there
we - even
the rooted - are gypsies
crisp
active sensing the cadenza pushing
under
the heart.
6.
soundbound
a new blues
in & beyond
tradition.
immediate &
bound
for the
21st century
a broadish wall of
chaotic sobs
heavy cymbal
tym
pan
i
unbound
sound
bound
the
blues
new
dues.
7. afternoon
rush
the
moon
over the afternoon rush
a
miserable beauty
that
saturates the streets with its lips
mountainous
air drumming softly on cloudless lite
&
i was myself with the wind
like
those endless carp
swimming
from the roofs of young boys
all
over the ancient east
up
& down
the
meters on the board
boring
into me
to
bear me to where the moon sits
this
afternoon.
8.
society of grain
inaccurate epigraph
in the absence
of grain
2 moons the cyclist rides thru
the nite
reddened shadow / doppelganger
runs behind him in deep nite
where the knots of wood
amidst the absence of grain
appear spoken like retreads
in
a wilderness of moons
pale against the
cloudy tiles
a lifenet pushing frail motion away
now.
moon
eat it
sip
it moon
high or low
moon
professional /fantastic / clean surfaces
rough
surfaces / delicate surfaces
moon
non - abrasive moon
sad eyes thru glass / wood / moon wood / fire moon / lint moon.
9. there will never be
in the midst of
warm winter afternoon
saxophone
moon hung
no added lite
no memory
enclosed in this room
before nite falls
fails one final time
i will not look for nor expect
will not add or subtract
or wipe away
sense play or remove
this
moon.
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