THE AFTERWORLD
for speaking solo percussionist
It is over
But it has not ended
Sometimes it seems the same
In the residue
6/8 in the left hand
4/4 in the right
or
I can play 5/4
With my right hand
7/8 with my left
Permatemps on trial
That's 5/4 in the right hand
Scum at the top
7/8 in the left
5/16 on the bass drum
Is the grave of reality
Map my blood
More and more minutes
Are shorter
Chaos in abundance
Separating from the universe
To rent a small room
In the code?
OK
so 5/4 in my right hand
7/8 in my left
and 5/16 on the bass drum
This is the story
of a refugee
He lives at home
You know
It doesn’t matter
That you know
People are dying
Of immunity
Words have gone missing
The letter ‘p’
Wa abandoned
‘R’ will be
The next to go
There are no more commas
In the residue
Laughter
Seems to end abruptly
As if it’s been
Badly recorded
Then you realize
You’ve been waiting
In line
For 2 years
And nothing has lasted
Long enough
To make a world
If I could play
5 rhythms at once
astonishment
caring
beauty
celebration
awakening
But I don’t think
I’ll get there
Though I practice daily
an earnest and enthusiastic
engagement with illusions
A screen
life
Flickers
Language
maiming reality
How else can I say it
If it were any louder
You wouldn’t hear it
I didn’t even dare think
That SHE was the ONE!
(phone rings)
Excuse me
(phone)No, I know
You said
Not to call you.
I didn’t mean
To call you
Especially now
I’m playing a solo
Concert
On stage in front of
An audience
I have 4 rhythms
Going at once
Why on earth
Would I call you now?
No, I never said
You were my 9/8
9/8 is what it feels like
to be starving
You came to my mind
And you were called
It just happened.
The technology is beyond me
It gets more and more crowded
as things get further
And further apart
Are you still there
I can’t hear you
Can you hear me
Hello
Hello
How many 5 sixteens
Can you play
How many 3 eights
7 fours?
I hit shake pound and scrape
Like a first responder
But beats abandon the measure
Everything
built by ghosts
Words
stop halfway
between the speaker
and the listener is not listening anyway
She's swimming in pictures
In Pictures of the river
She snaps a selfie
Where The bridge ends
Halfway across the flood
Of burning water
But suddenly you notice
There are no more hyphens
Apart from that
And an almost
Imperceptible change
In the color
Of apples
Everything seems the same
But what’s the point?
Sleep
Or resist
There are no more
Question marks
It is over
But it has not ended
This is life
In the Afterworld