I am
a concept
like rain
in reality
it doesn’t exist
instead
a million water drops
thought like a clock
connecting ticks
what you see &
what you say
out the window
through thin
clouds 4 billion
years of rock
& blue reflecting
centuries
while we move
in the porous world
the sun moved
too before you
a desire
to become one
—the buffalo long gone
[Written on a plane flying SLC
→Oakland with Flavia while reading
Bob
Perelman’s
a.k.a. Venus and Chiara picked us up at the airport. We drove to
24th Street in SF. I hung out at
Phoenix Books while they walked and shopped
the street. Later that night we went to
Pearl’s and heard drummer
Babatunde
Lea’s band with Richard Howell (sax & vocal), Glen Pearson (piano) and Geoff
Brennan (bass). Mr. Brenan did some triplets in thumb position that were very
striking—I think with three fingers on his right hand—I’ve got to figure it out.
Afterwards we walked across the street to City Lights where I picked
up
Cole Swensen’s
Noon and other books. Then we drove “home” to
Sonoma.]
id: 28-poem-morning-bed
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — morning
in bed
drift
&
list
(& forget)
[At Venus and Chiara’s in Sonoma.]
id: 28-poem-coal-sound
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — coal
white light
behind the cave(s)
like five
blind
bats alive
evolving alone along the border
(turn to the sky)
[Written in response to the sounds of words in Cole Swensen’s “The
Landscape Around Viarmes number 3.]
id: 28-poem-photo
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — photo
facing a forest
birds in the sky
a well (or wall) behind
somewhere a sea
a sound
child blurred turning
image
[A condensing of Swensen’s “The Landscape Around Viarmes” sequence in
Noon. I’d love to use the line “mile after mile sea after child” too, but I
can’t—too blantant (perhaps as a title?).]
id: 28-note-swensen-noon
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — sounds from cole
bare where stare there air
sun one once done
blind nine line a lake
when awake was world woke what want
id: 28-poem-white-relativity
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — white
train on its rail smoothly
inside its own world
traveling to the sea
a field on fire out the windown fading
curving across the world
the face looking back your own
walking on a moving train
green blends with the blind equation
field after field
all we see is light
[A condensing of Cole’s “Thought Experiment” sequence in
Noon.]
id: 28-note-bass-seller
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — bass seller
From Wilhelm:
Michael Olivola (and his wife).
id: 28-note-music-andrew
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — music at Andrew’s
Sunday morning lying around reading while Flavia and Venus laugh in the
front room and Chiara makes a great breakfast. We drive to Napa and tour
Copia. Then we have a light dinner at a deli in downtown Napa before splitting
up—me to Andrew’s in Oakland to play music—them back to Sonoma to have
dinner with Venus’ family (Flavia’s ex).
I arrive in Oakland after an hour drive. Andrew and I hug and head upstairs
to his studio where I get out my bass that is stored at his house. I was planning
on selling it, but the minute I took it out of its case I changed my mind—the
wood is too beautiful.
I warm up while Andrew sets up his recording gear and saxophones and
flutes. A bit later Debra Craig (drums) and Terry Rolerie (guitar) arrive. We
improvise then take a dark chocolate, blood orange and cake break. Then
improvise again. Terry is a very quiet electric guitar player (and avid bike rider)
and Debra is a sensitive drummer. Lucky for me—I played without an
amp.
Driving home I found a station with some great solo piano—kind of an
update minimilist Eric Satie. The show was Heart of Space playing Hans Otte’s
The Book of Sounds. I just caught the tailend at 10:50pm. PT. At that
time it was just single piano notes, one after another, no chords. But
the choice of intervals and sequence were beautiful. I’ve gotta get that
work.
id: 29-poem-body
Monday, January 29, 2007 — her body
where she lives
she fills it completely
(let me touch your lip
it is is your & it is)
where & to watch
inseperable from her
silent & private country
sleep in my cupped hands
where you can see clear
to the bottom words carved
into the body falling
her arm as if
it lived her life too
[A condensing of Cole’s “Signature” sequence in
Noon.]
id: 29-note-embassey
Monday, January 29, 2007 — Chilean Embassey San
Francisco
We said goodbye to Venus and Chiara and drove to San Francisco. Flavia had
an appointment at the Chilean Embassey to get her passport renewed. While she
took care of her business I went to Rasputin Music and picked up some CDs. In
particular, one I’ve been looking for: Thelonius’ Monk’s Greatest Hits. The exact
versions of the tunes on this CD made me realize just how much Monk was a
percussionist (in a different way from McCoy Tyner). I want to transcribe
some of his approaches to his melodies and solos and arrange them for
bass.
Then I went a block away to Cody’s (the San Francisco branch -
unfortunately the Berkeley branch closed down recently) and picked up Craig
Dworkin’s Strand (I figured I should learn a little about the author’s work who
lives and works so close by).
Flavia and I then hooked up and drove to Berkeley and had lunch at La Note
on Shattuck. After lunch we walked a few doors down to Pegasus Books where I
picked up Bob Perelman’s iflife.
We drove to the airport (several hours early for a change) and enjoyed
reading all our new books waiting for the plane and flying back to Salt
Lake.
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