AN IDEA OF IMPROVISATION WITH THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE—”Take X
towards a freer jazz with ashes buried under some trees by a ¿dead? cat in a different key
why do we hush to enter
what are not shrugs
or hugs but still mostly full
of sharp edged petals
shielding colorful fruit
which could perhaps function
—”beloved”—as chromatic points
in the pentatonics
of The Black Raspberries,
long known to evolve
into a longing to grasp
and risk a crimson pinch
while not knowing
if a light note later
the hidden position
of a thorn section
might tincture i
or for a time lapse into
some conjugation
of tidal desire dug by Kearney
from a Pointillist tone poem
of a pond which seems
tailored on the edges by Cécile
or Nate or Cecil pleating
secret theories of jazz
we once tried to retrofit
from “Le Front Cache”
or even the knees
of a more natural
man or woman, yet
keep modeling or yodeling
beyond the velocity
of wavy phrases
or Harriet sleepily mulling
over a syntax of velvet
deities which Apophenia—
our anthemic diva—
dreams to bray or splay
how bananas it is
that they’re berries
into elaborate diagrams
or collapsed reasons
for Drunken Gardens
but maybe just fell or felt
like a trio of Autumn Leaves
to shade in or abrade out
these parakeet feelings
seeking to query
what appears to change
or even changes to appear
as we aim to measure
some berried desire
with its green silence
bladed nearly to the point
of a sound science?
