hypnotic sequencings by Aad de Gids

I am not a silent poet

music keeps being a steeringwheel the churning bowl the rotating
wheel of karma especially this hypnotic sequencing music with bells
and poings, symphonic mass intermittent as backdrop and as lovely
as nonreplacable. essentialist wavering ribbon of time and pleasure
sometimes something urgent, troubling, an abstract necessity comes
to the fore now as in a spacey indian raga synth-induced druggy delhi
nylonoid music nevertheless with divaesque passion and raggedly
virtuosity not meaning a thing but a little glow of reinforcement in
the motivational emotional realm, vinyl nylon emotions tearfully as
the unexpected plague, broken. fields of tears and snowflakes asset of
the ‘distant saxophone’ (robert wyatt) and ‘uncertain trumpet’ (lyotard)
an elixirist accompaniment of the daily humdrum and ‘rests of talks
heard through slowly closing doors’ (jacques) on every floor as that
the building becomes a beehive of fragmented conversations, noisous
(nausious) lawmaking and laTrumpe rhetorics and shadow corporate
machinations as…

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