Children's Hour. I feel I should fill in some philosophy, or a more formal advice; channels can be changed. Here to. Let it be known that a man in a box is yet a man. A man buried is as lonely as he'll ever be, and ever was. Walls move if you do not watch them. Never take the pill. Highly regimented diets of air will sustain us all. Troughs are to be watered and pigged upon. Mountains climbed are no less immortal. The back of the hand is a ravine that should not be crossed. Never touch. The unremarkable sound that faints in your bedroom at night is glass shattering, distant. Swallow when spoken to. Spit when exhumed. A tar-stained rope will never do. A year's worth of salt will build upon dank newspapers left quiet, then ignore the patterns in the smeared print, as they will only forebode. Askewed and stern, default. Let the noises crowd each other; it'll be like tea leaves. Turn to the stars. Diviners are to be held in faith. The most graceful motion is a slice. The most noble motion is a feint.
Ken Baumann is. For more information, visit www.kenbaumann.com.
This is goddamn lovely.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Alec.
ReplyDeleteYou write, and I hear a rhapsody of rhythm manifesting philosophy into prose, into poetry. Whereupon words become music, and the sound that fills our lives with the utmost of meaning is silence.
ReplyDeleteYou have a gift, and I hope to read more from you.
Oh, still just as lovely as ever!
ReplyDeleteawwwwssssssomeeeeeee!!!!!
ReplyDelete"Mountains climbed are no less immortal". Damn! yes! just found my epitaph...
ReplyDeletemy favorite part:
ReplyDelete"The back of the hand is a ravine that should not be crossed. Never touch. The unremarkable sound that faints in your bedroom at night is glass shattering, distant"...
It's beautful.