broken embouchure
broken embouchure
warped certified gold hangs over the shoulder,
blue on the wall,
notes on the trane.
terse sayings run the lazy bird line,
topping the vinyl list,
dripping sweet aphorisms
at the five spot.
life is short, art is long! clinging to the overture,
in eleven dimensional drift,
bubble notation
flows through the shape of the instrument,
as feathery as the legs of champagne
rising to the surface, breaking.
parse lingers vibrating the flesh.
blind fingers on the curvature,
-face up -trace up
...end in a glass of broken embouchure.
contorted adinkras join in at the blue bottle,
twist a knife through the cheek
ragged petite fleur.
a yellow flower drops its petals
then turns into a spiky seed,
variegated and sentimental.
settling down to meet up at forty four,
dueling a royal abstract truth overture
from the back of the house,
subspace spitting seeds -bosonic -fermionic
in the prose of code.
puckered up for the kiss,
tongue rolled handing it off to polyphonic,
farkas blows to cool the soup.
the buzz began from one whom i shall not name,
even and odd on the bars of a superstring.
blind fingers on the curvature,
-speed up -slow down
...end in the sound of broken embouchure
little filaments play in the space
genetically coded for symmetry,
hit with a jazz break
written in deep error correcting,
humans must continue in the naming.
it from bits and black holes from wheeler,
inception invented and discovered,
artifacts of cognition.
this could be unreasonable effectiveness...
because we are all born baffled.
stacked adinkras fall like tumblers in a lock.
mountaintop of clarity
tied to a rainforest of chaos,
listen for entanglement.
playing the jazz matrix past the overture,
begging to become
knowing heads,
lusting after dumb luck, wasting in contrafact.
beings punch three quarks
embodied from the mouth of joyce
all play alongside tattoo marked flesh.
blind finger on the curvature
-speak up -down beat
...end in the brass of broken embouchure
imagining knowledge alive
adrift without music
in a desolate vacuum, lunar
totality must be impossible when every planet hums.
breaking through interstellar jupiter
each player plays a self referencing piece,
begging to name beast after beast.
the connoisseur
in a constant dialogue with nature
and its patience.
fresh from a blood moon
heading to crescent,
spilling troubles like ancient punctuation,
falsifying the image resonance in a range of uncertainty,
choosing to remain mute on things unmeasurable,
caught in the spin of transience,
adrift in the cure of the overture,
we saw what we looked for.
encore binary code collapse
in four measures, three times
drop head into triple tag, put it to bed.
blind fingers on the curvature
-heavy -steady
-expanding -collapsing
-drop flat
...end in broken embouchure
