Désordre – you do, no, you do it, no I do, no we do it, polish the kitchen, speck the pans, expect brands, leave em out of the tops, let goat sup em up, let goat ruminate, di di digest the rumen rooming all in, shoo them, shoo them in, for to, for to us. Us. Clack. Claim clome clomb, oven in the wall, oven in the wall, open the door, it’s hot skaa!!

Cordes à vide – let’s pack the snow in bundles, stack the snow in highs, calm the throw of warm with thrives, knives, Clive’s, Clive’s horse – made it to the last – Lion wasn’t Lion, an old horse, greysleek, munching on you, he’d be munching on you if you came round the corner at the wrong time, he’d be lurking in the turnpike, he’d be over the hedge at ya (you never saw him jump) but he’d kick, kick at ya, at ya, he was a stable door, he had no stable, mehbe, open door . . .

Touches bloquées – why everything’s a memory (before we even start). Come and hold the hose for me, come and hold the hose. Come and hold the forkit for me, come and hold the lightning, forkit, come and hold the fork I meant, come and hold the fork, yes, do come and hold the fork, it’s a pitch, it’s a pitch – perfect! It hides in the hay pile with old mauser, it lurked there, scared the hay, and you, do, yes, come and hold the hay, yes, come and watch cement mixed on floor, water up in a volcano pile, shhhuschchh shuchchch, shovel goes through it, goes through, come and take the rake out, never wash it after, heavier and heavier, one day we won’t be able to spread cement – oh some is for the jam jar windows anyways, o come and hold the trays, do, come and hold the block for the tobacco to smoke dry, in the kiln, in the oven, in the Rayburn, here, where you, where you please come and hold the open, come and hold, come on door, adore, I hold. I say no more, except to scatter ratter from the glare of the tilly, the hish the flare of the tilly-my-way-there, to hell, ell, hell after fire there.

Fanfares – rabble rattle rittle, I see the hay, I see the chiel there, see the chiel – daddy up a la-aa; he won’t fall, he won’t into the hole by the down pipe where starlings come crash and bicker in the night to sleep you off, morning blast an air rifle – get the rabbits in the garden, bury the money, hurry the money tree. Follow the lines up, top to bottom, drip to tap, rainsquall, cloud. Cloud. One and on and on.

Arc-en-ciel – (I don’t do no more) let it round my mind, let it, sound the slight bell, not a ring, sequence, street of sounds, a sound of streets, let it, creep over cobbles, kerbs, bricks, plaster, Parisses, bitumous bitu-men, let us sing at the pee-ano dominobible, let’s sing, creep, in, soft, like cat, like louse, like bat, like mouse, like thrice-taken pictures, three, three sketches on the wall in oils, the Uncle (fightener) (not frightener) (never fought) (a gentle soul) (was he) – thankyou, Maurice for the pantomime, pantalee actor great.

Automne a Varsovie – builds, potential fall, swirlwind, force o’er water, rippling a spirit circle, you can’t catch, no matter how swim. You fall like rain down a steep slide. Feet in mud, sloshy snowshoes soaked letting in, shaft of sun keeps you out in the noonday, a rainbow draining off fountain, you said, yes, you said, you remember, you remember like descending.

Galamb Borong – on another country where you do not speak the language, you slurp the seaweed soup, you learn a few words on the plane so you don’t feel so bad, you watch the market, the way no one sits, no seats in public, no one can stop, no one. Up in the morning with a new way of thinking. A box shuffling. Me in it.

Fém – a musical box, mine, I’ve told you, it had no photos, it was made for, and to turn as it played, before song, why memories must keep, coming back, she asked, she only has questions. I have wallpaper, the patterns we tore, watched on other people’s walls – other people’s walls were strange, are always strange, I don’t much care for walls, I said that, today, but I love a wall. Of sound. Bowie’s Pablo Picasso (version). Ligeti’s turn slows down . . . his house a pause. A touch of rag. A froze of sag. Toes of gag. So. Slide slight. Touch. Stop. On. Way.

Vertige – swells up like sea gale, rain off the hilltop, biting, cold, high notes, like diamonds, affordable diamonds and the bass floods in, like basement, crescendo floods and suddenly reaches tops, a bubble, unplumbs depths. Can you? Hide? Find? See? What I? What he? See see see see sawing. Crawl back to the worm. The.

Der Zauberlehrling – notes are chairs, balancing in snow, tune an ear, they find a pause, fill hesitation, make music of stutter, flurry keys, the keys you’ve ever found in your life, flutter through hands, unlocking, alluding to rooms you hoped to forget, knock on, a mouse tapping architraves. Then a rat. Makes sudden. Synco. Stack chairs again, won’t you? Bind. Prayer flags to the wind. To the unsettled. Air.

En Suspens – then they let you, in, room flooded with light even as you enter, as if . . . but it can’t be, you’re no one, you don’t know what room you’re in, this is non. This group of tears, idling, singing, depending on your point, opinion music, as if there could be an opinion about music, as if that could make difference to, heard. Climbing the spider’s thread. To the landing, then the way along rails. Picking up dust to slide, all the way updown.

Entrelacs – inside you, tired of that, of words, unclear as sound, rumble, hoping, rushing, burbling, insisting, confirming, prodding, hurdling, churning, gathering, to you. Your keys. Your arrangement. Your forgiving, What can you. What you. What you can. Come(,) here. Come back. I forgive. What went. A A A A went away. Simulate.

L’escalier du diable – stair of the devil, homonym stare – why do you do that? Why d’you play? Rummaging in attic for ancient spell, a charm you fear satanic, is this why atonal, syncopate was devil? Yesofcourse. cresc . . . cresc . . . tutta la forza. Crash. Sync. Ice shaking. O pate. Mind off. Manner. Down stairs, again, chasing the mouse – you’ll never catch it with your bare hands unless it’s sick. Better off swinging the rolling pin you broke like you used to do. Break the rolling pin. O memory. Thrash in cycle. Dull the sound die. Like you used to. Sing?

Columna infinită – straight back in with the ghost in the room. Run it out, it’s going. Have to unrelay a hundred times or so, before it might leave, the door open, spirits wailing in/out, cominggoing commingling like smoke, leaves in storm. Jagged. Glass. Can you get stronger?

White on white – steadying, options, footsteps, where they go, how they might appear, how they’ll disappear. For sure. They soft. To go. Dance. Slow, go on. (beat). On. (beat). Vivacissimo. Thundra. You arced the light, cry, the decided, done, the dread, drowned, the claimed, handed, the found, had, the certain, circled, had, hand, found, fed, blown, bluh.

Pour Irina – creep. In. The copse. Rain, thread, train, sound of it, on the roof, rain is, only what you hear you need. A feather fades. To you. To you. A feather lifts, your face, a good deal heavier, enough, comparing, feather draws you out like a fan of smoke, screen, fire the flames, fire them, softly, into. Em. Allegro. ber. You can clam on, tight, scratch, fadeflight, fast, fast, faster, rasper, rapid, cradle, fadle, faddle, caddle, raddle, paddle, paddlepaddle, fiddlefaddle. poco a poco. Running over. And. Ampersanding. And. Close. Brand.

À bout de souffle – if I could if could if I could, lunge – lunga. (where was that?) – at you . . . in a balmy air, if I could, no consequences, what are the consequences, are there no consequences, of course there are, we don’t think, we just often don’t think, of consequences, lunging indeed, lunging lunge. What would I, what would I, what would I know . . . of the, of them, of you. What can I, what can I say, what can I do, what? What can I do, any scaffolding here? Tell me. Can. Crying. Teasing. Highing. Reasing. I can’t talk that fast. I can’t hear that fast. Here we go. We’ve forgotten, where lunge. What wa, what wa, what was, what was going. Going on. Gone. (There) (quiet) lunga.

Canon – Com on the partment. Com in. Com, dolce, the com, com. Coming!! On. I can, I can’t, can. Keep up. So. So slow. Now. Dow. Down. Durata.