I got out of bed, went downstairs and wrote some ideas down. Unfortunately, the next day, my attempts seemed remarkably similar to complete nonsense. But I’ll go back into the wilderness one day to find that lake. And then we’ll see diamonds at the fast food restaurant. And birds that cry in the night. Or the hotdog stand on the other side of the lake.
Wednesday 15 August 2012
Atonal
Some night last week, I woke up. The usual time, around 3
or 4. It was hot, humid and pitch. I gazed up. Nothing. After a while, I dreamed I
had to write something I called ‘atonal’ writings: abstract pieces of prose.
I didn’t mean trying to form a verbal maze of hermetic word structures,
twisting, & decloaking. Nor quasi-poetical attempts to Dazzle & Amaze…
with fancy words and hip rhythms, all but shiny layers of egogloss. No. The thing I
had in mind was a celebration of the word. An altar for language. A small Zen garden. A holy lake.
I got out of bed, went downstairs and wrote some ideas down. Unfortunately, the next day, my attempts seemed remarkably similar to complete nonsense. But I’ll go back into the wilderness one day to find that lake. And then we’ll see diamonds at the fast food restaurant. And birds that cry in the night. Or the hotdog stand on the other side of the lake.
I got out of bed, went downstairs and wrote some ideas down. Unfortunately, the next day, my attempts seemed remarkably similar to complete nonsense. But I’ll go back into the wilderness one day to find that lake. And then we’ll see diamonds at the fast food restaurant. And birds that cry in the night. Or the hotdog stand on the other side of the lake.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
i'd love an atonal hot-dog. it would come with olipo sauerkraut and nose-tickling verbal mustard.
ReplyDeleteAfter the US$666 Douche Burger, an atonal hotdog would not look ridiculous.
ReplyDeleteTalking about nose-tickling verbal mustard. When I was a kid and we would eat very hot mustard, my dad used to say "I've got a bumble bee in my nose" (in Dutch 'hommel'). But later he denied having said it. 'Yes, Dad, you really said it! Really really... honestly.' 'No... can't be. Perhaps I said I had rubbish in my nose' (in Dutch 'rommel'). Anyway, thanks for the nice comment.