I remember seeing a lovely photograph of you taken by a friend of yours who is autistic.
Prosody, it don't come easy for me.
I can't hear music either. Not really hear it the way most people do. I am tune deaf. Not tone deaf, well that too but also "tune deaf"
I may not be a savant but I am dam sure an idiot about poetry and music.
Have you heard wireman's song
waiting at the gate.
I thought about him this morning about three AM watching a show about jazz in Paris. The world is at war and Paris falls to the N#zis and Django Rhinehart and his pals making sweet sweet music. I think we are in a world of sh*t. What else can we do expect pick up a guitar or a paint brush or a pen. I think firsty had a bit about that somewhere. Of course we can pick up a gun as easy as a pen. I got dem old metaphysical blues again. Too much news, huricaines and plagues, wars and earth quakes.
Repression and depression. "Gimme a beat girls to free my soul, I wanna git lost in your rock and roll."
There is a voice on that Wireman song saying
"If the artist can not find the way than the way cannot be found."
I am not an artist or a poet or a writer
Just some old fucking fool with "the little professor syndrome"
Thanks for the refuge D.
