tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11779531.post111765252990466230..comments2023-08-04T04:41:39.813-07:00Comments on Of Looking At A Blackbird: Stravinsky and the Right NoteUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11779531.post-1117912819008460942005-06-04T12:20:00.000-07:002005-06-04T12:20:00.000-07:00Woody, I'll look for that essay by Stravinsky. It ...Woody, I'll look for that essay by Stravinsky. It sounds like just the sort of thing I'd enjoy.<BR/><BR/>Rebecca, if only I were having a contest for best Stravinsky poem, yours would win hands-down.Roberthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13471547669854013234noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11779531.post-1117835536107903442005-06-03T14:52:00.000-07:002005-06-03T14:52:00.000-07:00Fishbone ElixirWhen Igor Stravinskymoved in next d...Fishbone Elixir<BR/><BR/>When Igor Stravinsky<BR/>moved in next door,<BR/>he fixed the plug in our<BR/>kitchen, split his canny<BR/>lip, burned through<BR/><BR/>every morning, hand<BR/>on the small of my back<BR/>as I practiced Mozart. <BR/><I>Concentrate, be muscular</I><BR/>he said. <I>You're old enough <BR/>enough.</I><BR/><BR/>Stravinsky wore a sapphire<BR/>ring, snapped a rubber band<BR/>around his wrist when he found<BR/>himself in the wrong city, <BR/>the wrong war, the wrong<BR/>woman.<BR/><BR/>He admired my long legs,<BR/>the Russian writers living <BR/>inside my head, the little <BR/>German M. who spiked me<BR/>to my chair.<BR/><BR/>That entire summer I was furious,<BR/>unsettled, a wet seed sliding inside<BR/>everything. <I>Precocious he said,<BR/>satinbellygirl.</I> This is the way, this<BR/>is the way music crawls under.<BR/><BR/><BR/>(Just cause it felt like the right thing to do at the moment.)<BR/>RebeccaRadish Kinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06534752971317927559noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11779531.post-1117724362211788552005-06-02T07:59:00.000-07:002005-06-02T07:59:00.000-07:00To continue the perfume analogy, what is needed is...To continue the perfume analogy, what is needed is coffee beans. If you've ever tried to buy shampoo at an Aveda store, you may have been trapped by the clerk into smelling a dozen perfumes so you get the shampoo that's "right for you." They stick a bowl of coffee beans under your nose between perfumes to "cleanse your nasal palate." If only there were an equivalent of coffee beans you could sniff between poems so you could read with a clear mind!Roberthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13471547669854013234noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11779531.post-1117688792188647582005-06-01T22:06:00.000-07:002005-06-01T22:06:00.000-07:00Well, that's it (she says, familiar with your line...Well, that's it (she says, familiar with your line). It's like I've said before as a metaphor, like buying perfume. Not that I buy perfume; it makes me sneeze. But when I did... you smell one and it smells nice. You smell another... Pretty soon you have a grand headache and you couldn't tell the difference between vanilla and horseshit.<BR/><BR/>But if it's any comfort, your book is wonderful, and no one but you is going to put that much weight on that one line.Diane K. Martinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03204316534769002428noreply@blogger.com