violin

Say, how often a middle class family living in a nice neighborhood
has to clean their drains, gutters, downspouts, air ducts,
fiber-optic and copper cables, sump pits, fireplaces, etcetera?
What can they discover in the process if they do it on, say, a Thursday in the afternoon,
when a five-legged sun is sound asleep behind the clouds?
I, for instance, would certainly pick up a violin because I hate the sound of it.
That violin would be very much alive but sick to the core as any dead tree in the vicinity,
And the void inside it would make noises like a changeling that hadn’t got a piece of silence.

{from the comments on tourists vs. travelers}

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10 thoughts on “violin

  1. ———-GOT A PIECE OF SILENCE———
    BEING WHO YOU ARE
    YOUR SECRET LINKS
    WITH GOD
    YOUR BEST PART
    YOU KEEP HIDDEN
    GUILTY OF DOMINION
    A RIGOROUS INNER SELF
    POMP AND PAGEANTRY
    NO OUTSIDERS
    THE DARKER CHAPTERS
    ONLY MICHAEL SPEAKS

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    • AND YOU A FUGITIVE FROM YOUR ACCUSTOMED SURROUNDINGS
      JAZZ IS A TOPIC THAT SHOULD BE BROACHED ONLY IN WHISPERS
      ECSTASY WITH YOUR SISTER TONGUE—A ROUND OF SENSUOUS
      IVAN, THE PINK WORM IS NO SECRET—OFTEN DEFENSELESS
      SOUNDS FROM UNFREQUENTED PLACES
      IMITATING YOUR THOUGHTS

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      • If the pink worm is no secret
        Try to step on it and you will fail
        Fail even to hear him scatting
        Like a black singer surrounded by the whites
        Who obviously think it’s his sister tongue

        Year they come from unfrequented placed
        Not to imitate but create your thoughts

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  2. FILL HER UP TO HER EARS
    YOU WHO MASTERED THE SUFFERING
    AND PRAYED THE BEAUTY WOULD REMAIN
    IVAN OF EROS WITH HIS HISTORY
    OF CRISIS
    SPECULATIONS ON FAKE PAPER
    THE PRESSURES OF MODERN POETRY
    THE ERUPTIONS
    BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
    THE SMELL OF FLAW

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    • Dude,
      People pay hundreds for a single leaf of fake paper.
      A prayer written on it wouldn’t be necessarily answered
      By the lord of illusions but
      It can bore a wide hole in the nasty
      Fabric of the universe which you can use for
      Keeping the trash that doesn’t fit into your closet:
      Bikes, skis, a first edition of the King James Bible
      And the original manuscript of Bartleby the Scrivener,
      Stacks of real paper, fake testicles of Uranus,
      Several heads of the Buddha, your favorite specks of dust
      In jade and obsidian boxes, whatever.

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      • A SINGLE PIECE OF FAKE PAPER
        RUMOR HAS IT THAT THE MOVIE OF LIFE
        IS WRITTEN ON FAKE PAPER
        —NO VOICE-OVERS, BABY BIRD
        PEOPLE MUST FISH FOR EXAMPLES
        OF WHAT TO DO—WHAT TO SAY
        IT IS IMPORTANT TO PASS THROUGH CLEAN
        DO NOT MAKE AN ADULT DIAPER A FLASHPOINT
        BROWN NOUNS, BROWN PREPOSITIONS
        BROWN VERBS SPEWING A BAD SMELL
        ANY OPPORTUNITY TO MAKE A MESS
        THE FLARF MACHINE CALLS IT: “REDISTRIBUTING”

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        • OH BABY BIRD, SURPRISE, SURPRISE
          ACCUMULATED TENSION EXPLODES
          YOU’VE BEEN SITTING ON THAT EGG OF FLARF
          ———————————————————LONG ENOUGH
          I TOLD THE DOCTOR AND THE NURSE TO GO HOME
          NO NEED FOR A SWISS CLOCK
          MECHANISTIC POETIC RESURRECTION
          PATCH-UP PUPPET JOB
          (REPAIRS IN VAIN)
          PRESSED MOURNING ATTIRE
          A LONG HEARSE IN BLACK
          KING-SIZE COMFORT

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          • An egg of flarf always bursts with
            The news i don’t want to read
            You can say of course that i
            Have to be patient enough but
            A good googler ends up sooner or later
            Talking to alien shrimp and other seafood
            Who are persistently trying to ask him or her
            What they prefer a swiss clock
            Or a swiss ball
            Do you think i desire to know these aliens?
            Just an hour ago it was raining here
            We were sitting in a hotel restaurant
            And i desperately wanted to smoke after a bottle of merlot
            Then i looked at the screen above
            Two hockey players were pummeling each other
            On the back of one of them was the word proust
            Well maybe prust i am not sure now
            But i am absolutely positive the other one was buson
            Whom i am going to read on the plane tomorrow
            Too much flarf for a roundeye

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