The regime of King Liszt

[Totenkopf]

make sheite up as ewe go along
not so far from like
Art Tatum spinning
diminished arpeggios
into the laughing courtesan
streeets; and even some
old jagossifer like Nietzsche
realized soldiers and whores hate muzak,
at least real musick--
Liszt grinding out speed-metal
etudes for that beautiful
box of bone and steel, and
El Lay dadaists there are
amped and stoked
apolitical perhaps
sculpting sounds--or
is it logique, as Bach was a logician
of a rather stern sort (toss a fugue in front of a
Britney Spears replicant
and she melts agnes moorhead-like, right quick)--------------------------------------------------------------
who have no need
for a cow
or cowboy
to prattle some
drah-ma du jour--
which is to say,
the lies of thespians
or thespian-like muddaubers or
scribblers don't make it
man; grand macabre scribes
EAP or a SSSShelley
stare bedfuddled
at the house band of Elysium--or is it upper rings of Hades--
with maybe
Franz on keys (Chopin or Claude as understudy), and like the Kenton band, with Hendrixx sitting in on occasion. perhaps---
the real phucking
musician--
be it Tchaikovsky
or 'Trane
doesn't require any
justification, except
maybe to
Whoever
rolls the dice