Saturday, October 29, 2011

The strangeness this poem exhibits is its music: watch it break to pieces as it shoots towards somewhere like a body spiraling through atmosphere. Or, more grounded: the poem is an air that dangles over earth as if it resided there -- a voice saying "look more like what I speak, " while the earth drifts, stubbornly, by.

Ya Musa, I want to hit you where your blood hasn't reached; a river pain, a rock pain. Strike you so your blood springs towards things like another heart; you who're stranger to my word.


Al Khidr says nothing. It's Musa who believes his lesson music. 

He saw no grounding in his lesson, so he called it unfounded. 

He found his lesson unfounded, so he dubbed it music.