Musics

I can’t believe I’m here,
watching a man--a friend--
beat a music out of
an inflated vinyl insect.

The body rings and plings,
singing its swollen plastic tensions,
its zoological engineering,
its pillow-puffy carapice
as though the logic of emptiness
is sensitive to petro-chemical history
and the complex economy of souvenirs.

Walking there
against this street,
I lean away from the course of cars
and they give me my way as well.

Opposites need not be
in opposition.

My strongest ambition of the moment
is to not forget this
poly-falling-boxes-down-an-Osaka-back-street beat
emitted by a broken bicycle.

Riding in and out of my periphery and memory,
a man pedals a rattle-patter of percussive rhythm
that my ear follows into dark corners,
reaching beyond the nonsense I fathom
towards this momentary matrix of emotions
I desire to breathe with
through twisted metal
and realize as
the air.


by Jerry Gordon
1.12.08
Banco Cafe, Osaka


This is the initial inspiration by Charles-Eric Billard:
http://charlou2006.blogspot.com/