what’s the matter with classical music?

 

a symposium with a few matters extraneous to any subject

 

 

DR. CARLISLE CARWELL: if

SURGITE THOMPSON: did not anyone

DR. CARWELL: I might resume

MR. THOMPSON: bring anyone

DR. CARWELL: with the matter in hand

MR. THOMPSON: with coffee?

HURLA MITCHELSON: bubbles in any stream that’s what any facts are

THE REVEREND DR. PIBEAU DOTTMEISTER: God bless the convocation in any or all of its many aspects

GUY THING: let’s have a go all round

LIL BEAUPIPE: eep eep eep eep I’m laughing joy is what we have almost any time the cello sings

MISS MITCHELSON: with a humdrum humdrum hum drum drum

DR. CARWELL: ti-tum ti-tum now that’s all settled let’s deploy all things might seem to suggest or whatever you might say it can’t

MISS MITCHELSON: hummy hummy dummy drummy

MR. THOMPSON: cream in my coffee

MR. THING: I’d love a very well-developed swing

MADAME BEAUPIPE: in any landscapes worthy of the condition of music

DR. CARWELL: with small towers you can say the lie of the land with

MISS MITCHELSON: oh I

MADAME BEAUPIPE: and all the little holes

MR. THOMPSON: filled with Joe

 

 

 

Translations of Tristan Tzara :

 

 

glass traverse peaceable

 

 

happiness of lines the wind about you soul’s stove

smoke speed steely smoke

silk-embroidered geography colonized in blooming sponges song crystallized

in the

body’s vase with the smoke-flower

 

vibration of black

in your blood

in your blood full of intelligence and evening wisdom

a wrinkled blue eye in a clear glass i love you i love you

a vertical drops into my tiredness that doesn’t light my way

my heart warmly muffled in an old paper

you can bite it: whistle

let’s go

 

clouds sorted in officers’ fever

bridges rend your poor body’s very tall see these scissors from the milky way

and cut out the memory in lively shapes

one way only always the same way

getting larger always getting larger

 

 

 

cold yellow

 

 

we’re off clouds amongst the eskimos to ornament the recuperation of our

botanical thoughts

under writhing dusks

ordure green glowing

blank

 

i’ve set out my promises confectionery hotelkeeper in his shop

definitive paulownias

the distancing unfolds glacial and cutting like a stagecoach distancing rainy

adolescent

otherwhere sounding

 

a pedestrian feverish and rotten and

broken and reparable embroidery

i thought of something quite scabrous

an autumnal calendar in every tree

my amorous organ is blue i am mortal mister blueblue

 

and from the corpse begins to rise a strange land

rise rise toward other astronomies

 

 

 

land see white

 

 

to maya chrusecz

 

the golds of 10 o’clock have broken death

 

burned the window in clay and gold

separate the good from water in leather squares

and the alert fish set with a pin

 

cook golden insect eyes

i am the bad vibration of warmth

in the beating of the striated heart

 

bones are also spoons for your soul

but we would rebuild

green sonorous under porcelain

sleep in the skull

 

and pursue the little men in their vowel

cut them off by train while the bell rings

and pursue the little men in their vowel

the little fire in the chalice

and pursue the little men in their vowel

pursue the little the little men in their vowel

 

 

 

wrong desire key of vertigo

 

 

madame goes off at a gallop

whistle-blast at the border

tidy simple stenographed soul

accompanies the rare collections of murders admission-free

under the table and in a nut

roedeer

let’s find the lung steeped in ink

elevator for animal entrails on sailboats

dock banish cuba

you go

you come—and it’s always the gospel fragile earhole

but believe in the soul internee postal-order

in the brain-barracks of agile instincts

reduce always reduce

receipt response he loves you goodwill etc.

you await overworked the lightning in your fingers

satanic infection yellows the star of tropical heat

you await friends and other things

so reproached for the grammatical vocations of tightrope walkers in flasks