april 2015

April 6, 2015

Sadness this morning. Sad eyes without thoughts to back them up. Just there. Physical. No tears. Just the feeling behind the eyes. The opening and closing of ducts. Close the eyes. Shut my eyes to feel it. Accept it. Take it in. This is me right now. What does me feel like? What collection of stories am I right now? What is the sound of my voice right now? Who speaks and who talks. Coffee mouth. Register that. Focus only on that coffee. That liquid. Where does me end and coffee begin and back again. One to the other. Breathe into my eyes. This is now, this morning.

On my back in the yard of my parents house. Late afternoon. Sun falling behind the pine tree. Branches taper towards top. Patterns against blue sky. My sister next to me laying also on her back. My partner standing, drink in hand. Blonde with curls. Flower dress. She smiles. Our son plays with a giant blue ball. Our niece, his cousin, chases after. My sister’s husband is there, and our parents. Their voices. Smoke from a fireplace.

April 7, 2015

Dreamt I was a ghost. Waiting for people to open doors so that I could pass through. Can’t go through a closed door.

We wake early. Too early. Dark out still. Awoken by her alarm clock mistakenly set to the radio. She unplugs it in a hurry to shut it off. Too late. He wakes. Too early. Dad, can we get up? He whispers next to me.

No. I groan sigh mumble. It’s too early. Doze on and off for another ten minutes while he whispers unrecognizable sounds.

Dad, he whispers. Can we get up? Yes. But I can’t play yet, I can only watch something on the couch, okay?

Then he says, Today, after school, I will come home and have a snack and I will eat dinner and we will play and then I will go to bed and it’s mom’s turn and then i will sleep and when I come in to this bed I will sleep good and you can sleep more.

I am overcome with emotions once I realize what he is saying. Sympathy and wanting to help. Empathy. I am happy. You are a good boy. I say and kiss him on his head. Let’s go. Listo?

April 8, 2015

Laying in bed, listening to my family breathe. Her occasional snores without rhythm. His breath through his mouth. The cat between my legs, I am pinned. Snot running down the back of my throat. Every breath I have to swallow. Every swallow clogs my throat. Viscous breath. An itch in my throat. Snot coat and raw throat. Listening and periodically turning my head. One side. the other side. Pull the blanket over my mouth. My nose. To warm the air before I breathe it. Listen. Fall asleep.

April 21, 2015

We rake the dead stems and stalks of last years flowers and plants. Now dry husks. Pull them out by hand. Cracking them at the base. Heaping a pile of them in the yard. My son trampling them, then saying they are snakes. He and my dad are on a safari around the corner along the side of the garage. my son finds treasures. Metal wire, frames for landscaping, now without context. A glass decorative bulb buried in the ground. These are treasures. We are looking for treasure, he says.

It had been sunny and mild earlier in the day, but afternoon brought heavy clouds and a cold breeze. Drops of rain.

Cleaning the yard. My dad shows me how to get rid of weeds, creeping charlie, he calls it. With a spade.

We pile the dried stalks and stems in our metal fire pit adn I drop three lit matches in. Smoke gouts in three spots then flame. Instant ash and embers. Some carried in the wind with clouds. My son and my dad adding sticks from the yard. My dad shows him how to break the sticks up. Using both hand sto push one end into the ground until it snaps.

I add a few more bundles of dried stems. Each time the flame erupts around the bundles my son says, whoa, and stands at a safe distance throwing twigs over, around and sometimes into the flames.

The smoke and rain and cold clouds transform the evening from spring to fall as we sit on our couch looking out our windows.

denise levertov

I thought I would be more into Levertov based on what I read about her, but the heart wants what it wants. Her poems just didn’t click with me. I think they’re good, but I’m just not feeling it for whatever reason. The ones that struck me most were the ones about mundanity, but I think that’s where my interest is these days. She was also an activist and wrote in response to current events and injustice. Those were interesting, but again, ultimately they just didn’t resonate with me. Oh well.

The Dogwood

The sink is full of dishes. Oh well.
Ten o’clock, there’s no
hot water.
The kitchen floor is unswept, the broom
has been shedding straws. Oh well.

The cat is sleeping. Nikolai is sleeping,
Mitch is sleeping, early to bed,
asprin for a cold. Oh well.

No school tomorrow, someone for lunch,
4 dollars left from the 10 – how did that go?
Mostly on food. Oh well.

I could decide
to hear some chamber music
and today I saw – what?
Well, some huge soft deep
blackly gazing purple
and red ( and pale )
anemones. Does that
take my mind off the dishes?
And dogwood besides.
Oh well. Early to bed, and I’ll get up
early and put
a shine on everything and write
a letter to Duncan later that will shine too
with moonshine. Can I make it? Oh well.

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The Goddess

She in whose lipservice
I passed my time,
whose name I knew, but not her face,
came upon me where I lay in Lie Castle!

Flung me across the room, and
room after room (hitting the walls, re-
bounding – to the last
sticky wall – wrenching away from it
pulled hair out!)
till I lay
outside the outer walls!

There in cold air
lying still where her hand had thrown me,
I tasted the mud that splattered my lips:
the seeds of a forest were in it,
Asleep and growing! I tasted
her power!

The silence was answering my silence,
a forest was pushing itself
out of sleep between my submerged fingers.

I bit on a seed and it spoke on my tongue
of day that shone already among stars
in the water-mirror of low ground,
and a wind rising ruffled the lights:
she passed near me returning from the encounter,
she who plucked me from the close rooms,

without whom nothing
flowers, fruits, sleeps in season,
without whom nothing
speaks in its own tongue, but returns
lie for lie!

pascal

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He was ten years old. He lived with us for eight years. We called him Pascal. He knocked over glasses of water when no one was looking. He slept between my legs. He meowed loudly at three in the morning. He let me carry him like a baby. He had a secret purr. For a while he had David Bowie eyes, but then he had Colonel Tigh eyes. He proudly carried toys to us like they were freshly caught mice. He told us about it. When our son was a baby he patiently let him bother him. He used to pull pizza out of the trash. He had chronically weepy eyes. He didn’t accumulate nicknames like Yoshi did or Orangey does. No Velvet Gentleman, no L’Orange Gras. Just Pascal.

He didn’t let on that he was sick. His kidneys failed and his body was shutting down when I took him to the doctor yesterday. But we didn’t know that. His temperature was dropping and his heart beat was slowing down. We had to put him to sleep.

He was a good cat and I will miss him.

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radio loways april 2015

01. I’maman – Jobriath
02. Rattled Call – Grass Widow
03. Innocent and Vain – Nico
04. United – Throbbing Gristle
05. Escupir 3 – Qeei
06. Treefort – Henry’s Dress
07. Itching Around – Shana Cleveland
08. I’maman – Jobriath

How did I not know who Jobriath was for all these years? I only just learned about him when my partner and I went to see Todd Haynes talk at the MCA as part of their David Bowie show. And we were both like, who is this Jobriath of which he speaks? And lo and behold, Jobriath is this massive gaping hole in my knowledge of glam rock and some of the references and inspirations in Hayne’s Velvet Goldmine Go read about Jobriath, if he’s new to you. This I’maman song is fucking massive!

Where did Nico come from? For real?

My note for this Throbbing Gristle song is, if you are a soccer/football team with united in their name, and you’re not using this song as a song to support your team, you have failed.

There is a certain type of electronic weirdo pop music that appeals to me and Escupir by Qeei fits the bill. Qeei is the electronic weirdo pop project of Tatiana Heuman, drummer for the weirdo lurch rock group Ricarda Cometa. She is based in Buenos Aires.

Henry’s Dress was fabulous and Treefort is their masterpiece. The greatest use of this riff, ever.

I love La Luz and apparently I love this song by Shana Cleveland of La Luz. There’s an official version of it on her recently officially re-released solo album that features a full band. But it doesn’t hold a candle to this one. This is perfection. I don’t say that lightly. Acoustic drone.

And to end everything with a mellow and earlier version of I’maman. Less rockish, but still fucking massive.

Qeei

radio loways march 2015

01. Tina this is Mathew Stone – Prolapse
02. Casa Abandonada – Julieta Venegas
03. Untitled Duet – Albert Ayler
04. Asheed – Luke Vibert
05. Untitled – LuthPi
06. Easily Persuaded – Martha and the Vandellas
07. Matt-Alec – Melvins
08. A Little God in My Hands (To Be Kind) – Swans
09. Wake Up Dolores – Los Lobos

I have increasingly less to say about these Radio Loways things, for better or for worse. It’s harder to take the time or find the time to come up with some decent notes for this. I’d be a horrible dj.

Anyways, I kind of stumbled across Prolapse at some point and I don’t even remember when. Recently-ish. In the past few years. I kind of love them. I like that this one is an argument set to music.

I listened to Julieta Venegas a lot when I was in Guadalajara studying Spanish. Her album had just come out and she was all over the place. I really like , but I think bueninvento is even better. It has a little more edge to it. She’s a good one to listen to when you’re learning Spanish, cuz her lyrics are easy to sing along to.

This Untitled Duet totally surprised me cuz it sounds nothing like Albert Ayler. For one thing the guitar sounds like Sunn O))) or Earth or something. When it first came on, I thought it was some Arrington De Dionyso project or something until I saw what it was. Pretty awesome.

My note for Luke Vibert is that I love acid. Also, I saw him dj at an Aphex Twin show at the Vic I think. Many years ago. He was set up in a box seat off of stage left. I could see him a little bit in the dark.

Matt-Alec is the first song by the Melvins that I liked, there was some old footage of them doing this song on a cable access show on youtube like ten years ago that did it. Baby Melvins.

I like the idea of Los Lobos more than I like most of their music. But I checked out Kiko from the library when I was like 14 and both Kiko and Wake Up Dolores still haunt me in their way. They would be an awesome 7″.

Now that I finished writing that. That’s not too bad.

LuthPi