tommanoff.com

The Musical Ear: Oral Tradition in the USA – Anne Dhu McLucas

tm — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 16:41:36 +0000

“This book contains a magesterial complitation of all the ways in which non-notated (and in many cases non-notable) activities lie at the heart of American music, past and present. It is enlivened by case studies and interviews with living musicians, and also by an ambitious juxtaposition of historical interviews with living mussicians, and also by an amitious juxtoposition of historical musicology, ethnomusicology, and psychology.”

–Dr John Sloboda, Emeritus Professor of Psychology, University of Keele, UK
and Honorary Professor of Music, Rotal Hollowat, University of London, UK

” In The Musical Ear Professor McLucas follows scholars like Albert Lord, John Blacking, and Christopher Small in the project of validating orally-transmiited “folk” and “popular” musical traditions in contrast to the “classical” traditions of Western art music transmitted in written
notation. She goes beyond her predecessors first in addressing the impact of recorded sound on musical transmission, second in attempting to base her arguments on psychological and neuro-
logical research into musical memory and musical creation. It is an ambitious undertaking that
sheds light not just on oral vs. written traditions but on human aptitudes, capacities and need for music in general.”

–Dr John Spitzer, San Franciso Conservatory of Music, USA

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Interview with Steven Osborne

tm — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 17:04:14 +0000

MANOFF: I believe that many potential professional pianists do not succeed because of something seemingly mundane: they never learned how to practice efficiently, and, in some instances, developed practice habits that deepen problems rather than solve them. Would you describe your practice routines and philosophy?

OSBORNE: I think this is one of the most important issues an instrumentalist has to deal with. In the simplest terms, when I practise I try to keep my attention coming back to how tense or (hopefully) relaxed my body is, and what my state of mind is. The tricky thing is that these two are closely related: physical tension negatively affects one’s state of mind, and conversely when one is anxious about a forthcoming concert, or heavy workload, or indeed the argument you just had with your wife (very rare, of course!), then it automatically creates physical tension. So it’s easy to go into a downward spiral where one can become very uncomfortable and even develop pain.

I see practise at the piano as a process of removing physical and mental obstacles to allow the music to emerge as freely and naturally as possible, but the work which creates the intense sense of engagement with the music always occurs for me away from the piano, reading through the scores, singing them to myself. For some reason I always learn more about the music doing this for 30 minutes than I could working at the piano for a month.

“I see practise at the piano as a process of removing physical and mental obstacles to allow the music to emerge as freely and naturally as possible.” — Steven Osborne

The piano sound on your recordings with Hyperion is especially rich. While it starts with your actual sound, I would think that you are working with a very fine production team who capture your sound. What kind of relationship do you have with them, and, in your experience, how important is such a team –from producer to engineer ?

You’re right to think beyond what the performer is doing at the instrument. Certainly the sound engineer plays a crucial role, finding the right compromise between detail and richness which best suits the music; a significant misjudgement in this can seriously affect the impact of a record. This is a discussion which happens between the engineer, the producer, and myself at the start of a recording session, and it can certainly take an hour or more of recording and adjusting microphones to find just the right sound.

In the experience of making a record, though, my interaction is much more with the producer, and I’ve been lucky enough to have made all my records with a great friend, Andrew Keener. I can’t overstate how much he brings to our records: he has fabulous ears and I trust him to hear both problems of detail and also larger structural issues; he is very savvy at getting the best out of performers in simple ways like knowing when it’s time to have a break, or when it might be worth going back to that one bit that you never got quite right; above all, though, the comfort I feel around him is enormously helpful because making a record is a very exhausting process which can make one elated, frustrated, sore, self-doubting, despairing, elated again, and so on for three days solid. To have someone you can trust with all of that excess emotion is worth its weight in gold.

I was surprised by some of the lovely music in the Tovey Concerto, and embarrassed that I really knew nothing about his music. Perhaps were I English that wouldn’t be the case. You’ve recorded quite a few composers whose music isn’t especially well-known. Which composers (not just those you’ve recorded) deserve more audience attention? Do you have any such projects coming up?

Honestly, if you were English, I think you still wouldn’t have known any of Tovey’s music! It’s strange the way fashions in music go. His crime was probably being too successful a musicologist, and his music is basically never played in the UK even though it has very fine qualities. Although I’ve made some records of little know works I don’t actively go out looking for them. Kapustin’s jazz-inspired music I first heard in the background a friend’s house while playing snooker, and most of the other unusual stuff I’ve done has been suggested by Mike Spring at Hyperion, who has an encyclopaedic knowledge of the piano repertoire. The one composer I passionately feel has never quite been given his due is Michael Tippett whose music, though idiosyncratic, encompasses more depth and variety of human feeling than all but the greatest of 20th century composers..

You have also recorded a CD of Debussy’s Préludes. These have somewhat different harmonic designs than Rachmaninov’s (at least for me) — especially in the manner the harmonic plans help animate the form. Were there differences in your musical approach to these different sets of Préludes?

To describe that is difficult, like trying to explain the intimate aspects of a friendship. Laying aside the obvious stylistic differences, I think for me the most significant difference is that I feel Rachmaninov’s music is essentially about himself and particularly his terrible sadness in life, whereas with Debussy the emotion is often more at a distance, and the pieces can be as much representative (of a picture or story) as they are expressive. That’s not to say the music isn’t moving, but that it’s not so clear that Debussy is putting down on paper the emotions he was feeling at the time. With Rachmaninov, it feels to me that he couldn’t help but be confessional. So naturally, these instincts put me in very different frames of mind when playing the two composers. I feel an element of detachment (but not coldness) is often necessary in Debussy whereas Rachmaninov forces me to play with the greatest emotional force I can muster.

“I feel Rachmaninov’s music is essentially about himself and particularly his terrible sadness in life, whereas with Debussy the emotion is often more at a distance, and the pieces can be as much representative (of a picture or story) as they are expressive.” — Steven Osborne

Considering your interest in jazz, I’m interested in some of the jazz players to whom you listen, and any who influenced you as an artist.

I listened a lot to Miles Davis and Bill Evans in my 20s, and more recently Kenny Wheeler, Oscar Peterson, Bobo Stenson, Brad Mehldau, Chick Lyall, Brian Kellock, Keith Tippett and others, but the biggest influence was certainly Keith Jarrett, to whom I listened obsessively all through my college years. Because of his playing I started experimenting with free improvisation, and that exploration taught me things about sound and structure that have been enormously helpful to my classical playing. Free improvising forces you to take complete responsibility for the music, whereas in classical music it can be tempting to hide behind the written score: “The composer wrote staccato here, I’ll play staccato even though I feel it sounds better legato”.

I think a classical performer needs to have the courage to disagree with the composer if his insticts lead him strongly in another direction; for me, excessive respect for the written score is as bad a fault as a lack of interest in the composer’s markings. But I know colleagues who profoundly disagree with me on this! I think the crucial question for a performer is, “How can you reveal the music as vividly as possible?” I believe to do that you need a balance between an intensive study of the musical score and a profound examination of your own feelings about the music; grappling with the differences between your instincts and what is on the page is one of the most stimulating parts of getting to know the music.

“….excessive respect for the written score is as bad a fault as a lack of interest in the composer’s markings..” — Steven Osborne

The only works of Tippett’s that I have known are A Child of Our Time and The Midsummer Marriage. The oratorio seems a difficult piece stylistically for singers, and, in my opinion, there isn’t a convincing performance on CD. The Midsummer Marriage I know from a fine BBC production in the 80’s. But your Tippett release has been quite a revelation, easily the finest single recording of his works I have heard thus far. You are especially able to reveal the composer’s lyricism within sometimes dense structures.

Tippett’s instrumental works strike me as more comfortable stylistically than his vocal music. Tippett seems especially “pure” as a composer in instrumental works, even as he moves through various “outer” styles to support a very refined and focused artistic vision. Nothing pretentious despite the complexity at times —especially the counterpoint — and nothing fussy. I’m not sure how many high-caliber recordings of his works exist. Perhaps this contributes to the neglect of his work. Can you suggest some other Tippett recordings?

I think you’ve hit more than one nail on the head. I find all the operas problematic except for King Priam, which is wonderfully pure and bracing. There is some marvellous music in the others, particularly The Midsummer Marriage , but Tippett all too often got bogged down in what he wanted to say to us (and being the humanitarian he was, he always had a lot to say). Ironically, I think that the lack of political or psychological messages in his instrumental works led to stronger music which communicates more potently. Having said that, it’s very difficult music for the performer to get to grips with both technically and conceptually – it’s unfailingly awkward to play and Tippett’s musical intention is sometimes very obscure. So probably one reason there aren’t that many good recordings of his music is that not many people want to invest the enormous energy needed to learn his music. I had to do it though; I was obsessed (and still am) with his musical world.

Recordings I particularly admire:

Pretty much anything with Sir Colin Davis; particularly The Midsummer Marriage and the Piano Concerto with John Ogden (Ogden’s 2nd piano sonata is amazing too).

The Lindsay Quartet doing the 5th quartet, one of Tippett’s greatest works I think and sublimely played.

David Atherton and the London Sinfonietta in King Priam.

Solti and the Chicago Symphony in the 4th Symphony; an enormously rich, if sometimes puzzling, work.

Sir Andrew David and the BBC Symphony Orchestra in The Mask of Time. In some ways this a preposterously ambitious work which can’t sustain the weight of its aims: what other composer would dare to critique the entire history of human civilisation in a single work? It’s uneven, but it contains some truly great music.

St.Martin-in-the-Fields doing the Concerto for Double String Orchestra – a childhood pleasure! I’m not sure if the recording I knew is still available – I thought it was directed by Iona Brown but I can only find it with Marriner conducting the orchestra; this version is good but the recorded sound is too resonant.

I found Tippett’s life fascinating and relevant —especially his politics. Clearly, his beliefs and the events of his time influenced his music. How has Tippett’s life affected your sense of the music, and —more broadly— to what extent does knowledge of a any composer’s life (if we know of it) affect your interpretations?

Instinctively I’m not very interested in the lives of most of the composers I play: I’m drawn to music that grips me and putting across that inner conviction is my main goal as a musician. If I’m honest, I’m slightly sad about this lack of curiosity – one’s perspective on music can only be deepened by knowing about a composer’s life; but then there are only so many hours in the day and generally I’d rather be practising or thinking about music than reading about it.

“Instinctively I’m not very interested in the lives of most of the composers I play: I’m drawn to music that grips me and putting across that inner conviction is my main goal as a musician.” — Steven Osborne

As if happens, with Tippett I actually read most of his writings before doing the recording. They are a fascinating mirror of his music – idiosyncratic, eclectic, yet full of feeling and conviction. Whether that knowledge affected how I played the music is doubtful; however it certainly increased my affection for the man.

There are other cases where I’d say biographical knowledge of a composer is very helpful, for example Schubert’s obsession with Beethoven and the reaction in his music to Beethoven’s death, especially in the C minor sonata. But even here, I’m not sure that knowledge significantly changes my interpretative instincts.

Lastly, can you mention some of the music we might hear from you in the next few years?

In terms of CDs, I’ve got some Beethoven sonatas coming out in the spring, Schubert duets with Paul Lewis at the end of the year, and the complete solo piano music of Ravel in 2011. Longer term, the main big project is performances of the complete Schubert piano sonatas, but that won’t be for 3 years or so.

Steven Osborne’s extensive website includes all his CDs and tour dates. It also plays excerpts from his recordings.

Steven Osborne

tm — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 01:45:35 +0000

LISTEN TO THE REVIEW AT NPR

A new recording by Stephen Osborne playing Rachmaninov’s 24 Preludes reviewed by Tom Manoff on NPR’s All Things Considered on 6/23, reached #1 on the Amazon classical chart the next day.

Lüne Convent

tm — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 00:28:03 +0000

God Shall Be Praised: Music From the Lüne Convent

LISTEN

TO THE REVIEW ON NPR

Reviewed on 5/13 by Tom Manoff on All Things Considered, Music from the Lüne Convent, an independent recording from Germany, reached the #1 position at Amazon.com overnight and remained there for several days.

Amazon.com: Top Sellers -Classical 5/15

Absalom’s Hair— page 5

tm — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 02:12:54 +0000

and they were drench3sz in driewd skins

and it soaked into them

and the old ones theur parenrts whom i knew as old suits

they grew wet and got FAAT and began to swellup

like pod pumpkins hanginfg off of the tree

AND THE BBAY THE CHILD TOLD ME YUOU

CUT THEM DOWN

THEY AERE RIPE NOW

AND REDDY TO RUMBEL

and i cutt like banasas

a good job and i cutthem

doiwn

and they felll and dropped on the earth

this fine old earth they had tiurend so gray and harrd

wel they hit an broke wide open

big fat old melons landing on

the ground and spilling their guts

but what a dancing surprise

what a singning time

what a great birthday party

those raisisns turned into grapes

with magic seeds insidie

for the baby told us all

fthat each meolon fallking

was a dream

each a dream thathad been hidden

driedup

isnide those old suoits thsoe opld ones

and so each became their own favrit dream that they had hidden

so long

but onse they realluy reqlly

really did want

so one hit and burst open dsharp;ly and out came a train a steam train and one came out a dancer

ballerina and another came as a swan and one wirth beautiful hair and many with ball bats and

hats \znd some as new children and one as a cook with a hat and a farmer browjn was one girl and

many singers and so0me fell asguitars to play and some fell in whole groups with music theyir

first thought and skaters oin ice andon wheels and skiing and climbing and some fell as sailboats

and some as sailors some diggers with hats for the old monuments in the desert snd builfders with

sharp eyes to make places and men with hats to plant more trees amd some fell as

sunlight and moonbeams and a thousand eagles and airplanes many trees redwood and elm and

oak and apple now rooting thrupugthe pavements benath the big tree

and when they started falling as sindoaurs

oh my

the kids in the treetops cheerted

SO LOUD

and i laughed and cried

as the old oens

got reborn

as new dreams

and new children and

they peopled the earth

my finbe old erth

wiuth new dreams and old

AND FROM EVRY TEAM

and the babes mum

she steeppd out of the tree

she was the mother and

she came over to me and she

she hugged me and held me while o i

i laughed and cried

it was mixed up that day

thate day of many

of many of everything and

she held me and i

iWAS NOT ALONE

and the childe that choild

it looked at me and smiled and gave mne

a wink again a wink

and then it knocked loose one last big old dried fruit

that hit tha sidewalk nearly onto myhead

and splat it hit and something

enormous splurreted out

and it was all hair

long hair

and a tail that wsa swigning

and a trunk too

and

ivory tuskls so beautiful

and the mmammoth eelephannt

lifted me up

for a swing

WOOLLLY

which is where i am sitting now and writing this

and the kids they are helpjg me a lot

tiwth this new writing the story

so to hurry me uyp and we can all go for a walkj

on wooly

because they want to seethis earth

that is so big

and shas so muc h thuat is so big

andso small and

all thje colrorrs

and very old

and now new

this is PAGE FIVE (last)

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Quinn MacKeen is a writer living in Nova Scotia

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Absalom’s Hair — page 4

tm — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 02:10:45 +0000

and the haircaught ones yowled

them olders weere afraid now

to lose their goldern tubes and their FRIGGING BIG BOOSK

and maybe eventheir lifes in that tree

which hwirled them now like rocks on a rope

amd thew older ones hung and swung round and rountd and

began drying out in the sun and the winfd

and soon they stopoped shouting so much then all did shutup

ands they dryed up like

dri4ed fruit hanging frpom that tree

but they them kids they kept singing what they wanted new yorkrk and chicago and the roickyies

mpountaints and london and africa and china and mexico the acrtictic circleu and the rainy

hjungle plcaces and music with guitars and drums and piaonos and bands and groups and teams

and laughing and THEY WANTED EVERY TEAM SO NO OEN WOULTD BE SAAD

WITHOUT A TEAM until you could hear them sall in one voice with many voices they said they

wanted all not one no they wanted many and multi and millions and billiosn and zilliosn

and the odl dried fruits wre all scrawny and wrinkeld now

silent like the dried grasss with no wind

and the kids in the treetop[s

had stopped their pulling to and fro on theiur poushme pullyou limbs

and they were all in the teree quiet vrery queit

and the babey the chld iut said

with a great giantbig bold and alaugh

WE HAVE CAUGHT THEM

WE HAV CAUGHT THEM ALL

O ABSALOMS HEIRS

WERE CAUGHT

BY THREIR HAIRS

and i saw themthose driedx ones

hangigdown from the brahchs

with no juice and no water

no bloood from the earth in their veigns

and with my knife

ithought i willstrike them down

cut them down so tey finish

and could not hold notholdthetree and the baby and the kids

down anymore

and NOTcall me the bagman drunk and rummie

streetperson alone and with no home again

not again

not any more rthinking me the dead one

inbetween their deadstone buildings

and i raised my jand in anger

against them

and the babe and the children at the treetop shourtedto me

shotuing

all at once in one voice many voices

NOT AGAIN DAVID

and they lknew my true name

he biggest surprise of the day

like at a surprise birhtday parrty for me

which i enever had

they jknew my triue name

for they had a plana better plan than me

and the baybe the child had them to pick

all the fresh trees fruit on the top

for it held many no all the fruits

apples and pears and cheries and bananadas and organges and many i dont forget

and then the baby the chold said

LET IT RAIN

let it pour

let the juice rrain down

forever more

and the kids at the treetop they grabbed those fruits by name

and squezed them with their hajnds

and sqwuichsed them with their feet

and the jui9ce poured down

in alllk the collorrs

sticky and sweet

and fast and clear

running diowqn off the bracnhes

and the leafs driu[pping

and down the trunk

andf thrugh the air

and it rained on me and some on the ground but most blew

and fell inadownpoiur

on the dried old grizzled ones

hanging in t heire wrinklyedy skins

yes on absaloms heirs

this is PAGE FOUR

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Absalom’s Hair — page 3

tm — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 02:09:52 +0000

AND THE BAbe the child spoek

to the old ones on the ground gathered

and sais take the moss that hangs from

the lower breanches

and tie it into your hair like rtibbons

and the tree the mighty tree will

lift you up for to go there

to the new world

tie yourselfs heirs

TO A NEW WORLD NAMED ABSALOM

and theyse elders cheered and cried out

thanks

and tied their haires into thje moss

they were asll liftede up

and hapy to make their escxzpe

ME i was lefte on the ground alone

all eldres amd babes and kids on bikes

were in the tree now

but i would NOT

with thesze !cursed buzzards and bastards

i would bettr be homeless with tears more

and streetperson on empty worldalone

agan the tro;ll with bags and invisible

abandonded mauybe with my elepjhants

and i shouted at the ch0ild

and wept and tore my hair and cl0othes

and the babe was tired i know but

i had walked and waited so long

and hadf helped and noiw this

so i said what words were in my motuh

that elepants and the earth were fine

and i wanted no promotion and no pillows

and no golden tubes no one arm and one eye

AND NO MROE BIG BOOKS

i WANTDED ELEPAHNTS

and my memeories and swinging trunks

and four seasons and all between

and me wa;lking with the wind blowingnot always a;lways flyfing

my footprints i wanted bck

and the KIDS theyre lik bbirds chirping at the end of dsay /

chattering and cxheeping in the tree top

and they wqere waving their wings like wind

back and forthward swinging and swaying

rthe chilfdren birdss at the treetop

and the babe the child it dsaw them

and its sad tired face tiurned bright

it lookjed at me and winked

oh yes i saw THE CHILD

i sw the wink and the smile for ME

and the baby birds were growig loudeer

many voices many soudnss

crying out and

yowling

for miyne elep[hants

and they tghem lkids they ssang

and they puled in harmony

they was the pushme poullyou in the tree

and they all sanggd together like a chorus of bords

a big baby bird choir

witth the babebychild conducting

swinging its arms

that tree swungd and itt swayed and started to spin

with old laxzy bons

hanging byb their haires

ribbinsed to the bouyghs

betwined and entangled

they old wer allstuck

and as the baby the child waved and pointedat each kid

they sang their each OWHN verse

and the cradle tree

rocked

and they sang what they 3wanted

THEY WANTED

eplephants and tigers and big whales maikng singing sounds and wolfs and dogs many dogs like

shephersd and newsfs and collies and labs and CATSs too they sang for flamingoes and eagles

and sparrows redbreasts and swing sets and ball bats and skateboards and games with compu3trss

everywhere and many on levell 9 and p[rincesses and p[rizes and special powors ands flying in

ballonsa and airplanes and ropckets and woith packs ont heir backs but walking too

and the tree swung back nn forth harder and more

and then starts twirlding a round on its stem

with the old ones caught by their hair now theos big ones those old ones in suits

all shouting and hanging from the bottom

like a tiltawhirlr

but the kids they shouted more awhat they wanted

both boys and girls and in all coliurs they wanted and wished for all colrss in the woruld but

mostly blue and green and red i think oh and yellow yeaah yellwo and the sun to be coming up

and then cloudy and the sun going down and moons and ponds and rivers and the beachc many

beahc3es and for being loud and quiet and talk and silent and louder again

and the babe waved at each chold in turn

and they told their best bedtime dream

that they wanted

of having one eyes and tweo and three and four they shouted they shoutred glad and one leg and

two and three and whEEELs too to be 7 and 15 and one hundred and 15 and 21 years and old and

new and and a thousand years old and sinodaurs and old faithfulk and terrordactyls and drrgaons

even NOOOOO said some to the draggpons but then they said a few ones onyl and not too scarey

and indians many manny indians and buffaloe and shaggy elephnats liek manmouths i saiud

yes i said i wanted them BACK

them longhaired elephants with biug tusks and wooly

i said thAT

that was mine

this is PAGE THREE

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Absalom’s Hair — page 2

tm — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 02:08:56 +0000

i fell back with my gbasp

whenarose in the air

a grean shoot

that was coiled

like a tail

greeen tht sprouted and thickedned

like a wolliow and n oak

and an appel tree

with THE BABAY all saft

up in its neastle

and the childrenm of thye streets

babbees

able to walk/ and crawl and biucyle they came

they came and ggrabbessd the branvches

and limbs as they roose

and the boughs bent and hoisted

and swung them up into the trees arms

many babys and childs laughign

like new

they flocked int he branches

they tumbelled alldown fire esxcpaes

and poured f4om allees

like to tdo a migration

of hundreds

to b in the trees toip

THEBABY when form thiss topmost towereing lomb

the child it spoke to us alln

evn those OLDFER in suits and stickings

who wer standign on thepavennt and streets

andnits woreds the babys wrere of merci and peace

we would leave this knid odl earth

for a mpre siutabel place

where the elephants wwould no linger swinhg us

and where we al;l could have rest

ansd start over

we would not walk but f;lky all the day

lik4e angeles

so no mroe cars or roads and could le3save

all our engines and money and racing inthe streets

anor our burning gaeses and burojg and

so much nbournt

w2e wouldm rest and be siomple

wi9th oinly one arm and one1 eyes

and few sopecies to name and carefor maybe just one of eahc

so our dchores would be light and strahghtle

htere would be but one seasdin

aqnd that steady hot

so our clotheds must be light and plseaing

and our shoes in one siuze

just one sexes 1colorsr

and live on100hunderd years old Xctly

allthe lines would be steady

and clear

there would not be invention\

or poublic debatejust

BIG BOKKS

WQITH ALL TH BIG WWORDS

right insite them

we would sleep all alone

each in a tube made of gold

then later in groups made of

10 or maybe100

and forget

there wpould be no odl footpronts

on the planet werte taken to

and no fossils no big misyteryious

pyrmaiimds

we would get to start obver

and he d aim a bit lower

this timm

much easier upon our

poor old heads

thebbabay wwas tirede you coulr see

from the effort of lifting

antrying forsoe long

for us to awake

and i bowed to my cursxed brethren

andmd shhk their cursedd fimne hands

but they spoke like it was

promotion

and eesase

THEM OLD SUITS THEY SPOEK HAPPY TO ME

now we can fly and wear suits made all white and all gold

with no mes s no fuss and no fight everyhting in strate lines

and each all alone and then get toegheter

for pillowfights drionking and sex

O a heaven they ssaw

an eviltutionry leap

onto the back of a horse

barely laden

tocarry thme

but i saw nad i knew the cChilds mum

thew MOTHERshe was rithgt IN THAT treee

and i read in her eyes

that the bebe had mercifully spokem

soift words for the odl with their softpillow ears

but me i wept for the loss

of the humanly struggle

and the fallintg quite short fof perfection

after soo cursed long

walking alnd all that work

and i efefelt so alone

wioth npo elelpahnts in my new home

iof theis eartrh

i was berfet and abandonedd

this is PAGE TWO

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Absalom’s Hair

tm — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 02:07:01 +0000

A homeless man on the streets of New York has only an old typewriter. He starts typing as if in a dream. He can’t quite see the keys, nor does that matter as past, present and parable intertwine.

ME im sittijng on my ass

ona new wyork dsidewalk

digijng at a crack

with a knife

and thsoe peolpe drwon there

woudnot lend a hand

not even to SAAEV THAT BABAY

from drowning

n0omsvae

for4 i had spied

the green fi9ngers

new tipd all inspiiring

sticjking up seearching out

raere air

buttha people laufhed sand tiold feersome stories

of hodden RATS and great crocs

down below

whise sharp sjhiny teeeth

would get the babe

andGRABBEM

so i dug like a mad an

mad khnimefe in the hard trodd

and with mie other left fubgners

to save that pooer childe In the grounnd

treadeen undder cold boots

whil theyn cusred and theye mocjked

at myn raggy headed effirt

diggn up what alweyss was down

fer i was a bum and a riummie

a bagMAN and a troll

astrreetperson or worsdst

a lostsoul

years id walked

closeley crzushed heavydown

my head swinging an sniffing low to thw ground

trrriying hard trying hard

to follow the path

caus i believefewd in the promise

of for me a new life

and them too

and this whole wrold made new

but i gott a ditch duggen

round the sides of the traap door

8but my knikfe woulde not go \deeporer down

so i stood for my bgrasp

on thatt miserable plain

i stfiffened my back

spred an straicghtened my klegs

hammmerdd my handslike harrd jhhoks

into dirt round that stone

thtt great weifghted door

powerlifting i HAULKED

threw back my back headneck wtih effirt

and my eyes went white whitte

anmd the tendoins of my shouldres

were oxens stiifened steeeld

and i lifeted wiht my life my lffe all my lifes breath

and the fioarce on the crac

was some fierce

and non

nonoen wpould elndf a jand

none would save the child

same as it ever was

same as onfe before/ the SAME

a nd i wept for i knrw

that me and the child were borne and bund tp die

with no new seeds or secrets

and the world passt to death

wth none left not one

THENthen i saw mi mpthers hands

1first 5he soft greeen tips

then her fingers dark brown and strong

plusht out from the down to svae

wedgin out from under the paeve

and she pushed and i epeeled

and togeheter we pulled itoff

thatw funereal weiggt that cursed ston9e

from off the face of the

EARTH

and the sound that ws hread

by all batehred round

was xexactly

a childs most sharp braeth

like teh suck of oxygenair

when a launrymat bag

made of plas5tcxk

wqas pulled from its yuongbaby

mouth

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