I discover a piece of folded-crooked paper
Under/ behind the standing mirror
shrimp on barbie
(hard time now)
And I smile and put it back
Someone historian might mistake it
For a code
Or a key
To understanding this past civilization
And wouldn’t that be funny?
Pervasive is a word I’m putting in my pocket. I know I’ll have need of it soon.
Do we tell people who we are,
Or who people say we are
Or who we strive to become?
The answer makes all the difference.
We need to stop asking ourselves what we bring with us if we were stranded on a desert island, and ask ourselves instead what would create there with our bare hands.
If I were to choreograph dance to Chopin, it couldn’t be only in ballet. Though it expresses, like ballet, a fluid softness, depth, tender elegance and feeling, it possesses too much of that sharpness that can only be expressed in jazz for it to be purely ballet. Chopin is has as much midnight in it as it has rose.