Lowell Blues :
the words of Jack Kerouac
(excerpted from Kerouac’s novel Doctor Sax)
Drum roll.
Kerouac. " I've got an announcement to make.
Roll
"In my opinion, Lowell Ma is now the most interesting city in the United States of America."
Music/Konitz I/IV guitar 22 or so measures 4/4
transition to fog horns
Reading #1 Birth Willie Loco Alexander.
It was in Centralville I was born. in Pawtucketville I saw Dr. Sax across the wide basin to the hill - on Lupine road, March 1922, at five O'clock in the afternoon of a red-all over suppertime,
Music/Konitz four beats
as drowsily beers were tapped in Moody and Lakeview saloons and the river rushed with her cargoes of ice over reddened slick rocks and on the shores the reeds swayed among mattresses and cast -off boots of Time,
Music/Konitz couple beats
and lazily pieces of snow dropped pluck from bagging branches of black thorny oily pine in their thaw and beneath the wet snows of the hillside receiving the suns lost rays the melts of winter mixed with roars of Merrimac - I was born.
Music/Konitz four beats
Bloody rooftop. Strange deed. all eyes I came hearing the river's red. I remember that afternoon, I perceived it through beads hanging in a door and through lace curtains and glass of a universal sad lost redness of mortal damnation. ... the snow was melting . The snake was coiled in the hill not my heart.
Music/Konitz twelve beats
Drum Roll.
Keroauc " My job is to describe heaven just a little bit, just a little bit.
Reading #2 Wrinkly Tar Robert Creeley
The other night I had a dream that I was sitting on the sidewalk on Moody Street, Pawtucketville, Lowell, Mass., with a pencil and paper in my hand saying to myself " Describe the wrinkly tar of this sidewalk, also the iron pickets of the Textile Institute, or the doorway where Lousy and you and G. J.'s always sittin and dont stop to think of words when you do-stop, just stop to think of the picture better-and let your mind off yourself in this work."
Music/Konitz six beats
In the dream of the wrinkly tar corner I saw it, hauntingly, Riverside Street as it ran across Moody and into the fabulously rich darknesses of Sarah Avenue and Rosemont the Mysterious...
Music/Konitz three beats
Rosemont:-community built in the floodable river flats and also on gentle slopes uprising that to the foot of the sandbank, the cemetery meadows and haunted ghostfields of Luxy Smith hermits and Mill pond so mad-in the dream I only fancied the first steps from the "wrinkly tar," right around the corner, views of Moody Street Lowell-arrowing to the City Hall Clock (with time) and downtown red antennas and Chinese restaurant Kearney Square neons in the Massachusetts Night;
Music/Konitz four beats
then a glance to the right at Riverside Street running off to hide itself in the rich respectaburban wildhouses of Fraternity presidents of Textile (O!) and oldlady Whitehairs landladies, the street suddenly emerging from this Americana of lawns and screens and Emily Dickinson hidden school -teachers behind lace blinds into the raw drama of the river where the land, the New England rockyland of highbluffs dipped to kiss the lip of Merrimac in his rushing roars over tumult and rock to the sea, fantastic and mysterious from the snow North, good-bye;-
Music/Konitz four beats
walked to the left, passed the holy doorway where G.J. and Lousy and I hung sitting in the mystery which I now see hugens, huger, into something beyond my Grook, beyond my Art & Pale, into the secret of what God has done with my Time.
Music/Konitz till piano ends
Reading #3 The Mills David Amram/
Oh tall red chimneys of the Cotton Mills of Lowell, tall redbrick goof of Boott, swaying in the terminus clouds of the wild hoorah day and dreambell afternoon.
Music/Konitz two loops
Late red Sunday (afternoon) in Lowell, on the Boott Mills the great silent light shrouded the redbrick in a maze of haze sorrow,
Music/Konitz two loops
something mute but about to speak lurked in the sight of these silent glowing mills seen on dumb Sundays of choked cleanness and odors of flower...
Music/Konitz two loops
with just a trace of red earth grain by grain crawling out of the green and coming back into real life to smash the Sunday choke life, return earth to the issue, with it night later on..
Music/Konitz three loops
I walk along the long sunny concrete rail of the millyards in the booming roar of the windows where my mother's working , I am horrified by the cotton dresses of the women rushing out of the mills at five-the women work to much! they're not home any more! They work more than they ever worked! - Dickey and I covered these millyards and agreed millwork was horrible.
Reading #4 Now a door slams Carolyn Cassady
Now a door slams, the kids have rushed out for the last play, the mothers are planning and slamming in kitchens. You can hear it out in the swish leave orchards on pop corn swings in the million foliaged sweet wafted night of sighs, songs swishes.
Music/Konitz few beats
A thousand things up and down the street, deep lovely, dangerous, aureating . breathing, throbbing like stars. A whistle, a faint yell, the flow of Lowell over rooftops beyond, the bark on the river, the wild goose of the night yakking ducking in the sand and sparkle, the ululating lap and pearl and lovely mystery on the shore.
Music/Konitz few beats
Dark always dark, the rivers cunning unseen lips murmuring kisses. Eating night, stealing sand sneaky.
Music/Konitz few beats
Kerouac: "Proust and Joyce are the greatest twentieth Century writers, Joyce was blind and was going sit by the sea and write the sounds of the sea and he died so I did it for him.
Music/Konitz few beats
Reading #5 The Merrimac Johnny Depp
Follow the great rivers on the maps of South American (origin of Doctor Sax),
Music/Konitz few beats
trace your Putumayos to a Napofurther Amazonian junction, map the incredible uncrossable jungles, the southern Paranas of amaze, stare at the huge grook of a continent bulging with an Arctic-Antarctic to me the Merrimac River was a Mighty Napo of continental importance... the continent of New England.
Music/Konitz few beats
She fed from some snakelike source with maws approach and wide, welled from the hidden dank, came, named Merrimac, into the winding Weirs and Franklin Falls, the Winepesaukes (of Nordic pine) (and Albatrossian grandeur), the Manchesters, Concords, Plum Islands of Time. The thunderous husher of our sleep at night. I could hear it rise from the rocks in a groaning wush ululating with the water, sprawlsh, sprawlsh, oom, oom, zoooo, all night long the river says zooo, zooo,
Music/Konitz several beats
the stars are fixed in rooftops like ink. Merrimac, dark name, sported dark valleys: my Lowell had the great trees of antiquity in the rocky north waving over lost arrowhead and Indian scalps, the pebbles on the slatecliff beach are full of hidden beads and were stepped on barefoot by Indians.
Music/Konitz several beats
Merrimac comes swooping from a north of eternity's, falls pissing over locks, crack and froths on rocks, bloth, and rolls frawing to the kale, calmed in dewpile stone holes slaty sharp (we dove off, cut our feet, summer afternoon stinky hookies, rocks full of ugly old suckers not fit to eat and crap from sewage, and dyes and you swallowed mouthfuls of the chokefull water -
Music/Konitz couple beats
By moonlight night I see the Mighty Merrimac foaming in a thousand white horses upon the tragic plains below.
Music/Konitz couple beats
Dream:– wooden sidewalk planks of Moody Street Bridge fall out, I hover on beams over rages of white horses in the roaring low, -moaning onward, armies and cavalries of charging Euplantus Eudronicus King Grays Loop'd & curly like artists' work, and with clay souls'snow curlicue rooster togas in the fore front. I had a terror of those waves, those rocks.
Music/Konitz several beats to end
Reading #6 The Flood Roger Brunelle
Mon duex ti jean, regard la grosse flood qui va arriveq-"tut-thut-thut-c'est mechant s'gross riviere la quand qu'y'a bien d'la neige qui fond dans l'nord dan l'printemps, Cosse que va arrivez? parsonne sai.Person sai.
(T.J. look at the big flood that's going to happen. It's bad those big rivers when there's a lot of snow that melts in the north in the spring. What's going to happen? Nobody knows?)
Music/Konitz several beats over flood warning
Reading #7 The Library Joyce Johnson
A strange lull took place after the flood and before the mysteries the universe was suspending itself for a moment like a drop of dew on the beck of a bird at dawn. By Saturday the river has gone way down and you see all the raw marks of the flood on wall and shore. The whole town is soaked, muddy and tired. By Saturday morning the sun is shining , the sky is piercingly heartbreakingly blue, and my sister and I are dancing over the Moody Street Bridge to get out Saturday morning library books. All the night before I've been dreaming of books- I'm standing in the children's library in the basement, rows of glazed brown books are in front of me,I reach out and open one --my soul thrills to touch the soft used meaty pages covered with avidites of reading --at last, at last, I'm opening the magic brown book-- I see the great curlicued print, the immense candelabra firstletters at the beginnings of chapters--and Ah! --picture of rosy fairies in blue mist gardens with gingerbread Holland skylark rooftops (with breadcrumbs on them), talking to wistful heroines about the mean old monster on the other bosky side of the dale-- " In another part of the forest, mein princess, the lark's largesse is largely hidden" and other sinister meanings.
Music/Konitz couple of beats
Shortly after dreaming that I dive into dreams of upper hills with white houses slashed across by rays of a Maine sun, sending sad redness over pines,in a long highway that goes unbelievably and with remorse...
Music/Konitz one beat
jump off the bus so I can stay in little Gardiner, I bang at shutters, that sun's same red, not soap, the people of the north are silent, I take a freight train to Lowell and settle on that little hill where I rode my bicycle down, near lupine road , near the house where batty woman had the catholic alter Where I remember the statue of the Virgin Mary in her living room candlelight.
Music/Konitz intro over piano tickle
Reading #8 Nursery Rhyme Willie Alexander
So the polly wogs grow and bigger frogs croak by the may pole in the mud. Crazy lazy swings her crutches, was the wife of Dr. Sax, Gave him up for a crud. Maybelle dizzytime a gal of many fancies swings her shadow ape. In the Cloaks of mid night whamsy the ball of the pollywog may time. The dance of the flooded mall. Crack went the castle underground Cank Can tank old moritzy flumes his froosures in the dank . Dabble-doo dabbleydey, the ring has got the cray. Ring ga la ralla man Ring a la dee.
Reading #9 The Library Carolyn Cassady
Music/Konitz intro over Bass Clarinet
Bragging still, but telling the truth still, during all this time I was getting A's and B's in high school, mainly because I used to cut classes at least once a week, to play hooky that is , just so I could go to the Lowell Public Library and study by myself at leisure such things as old chess books with their fragrance of scholarly thought, their old bindings, leading me to investigate other fragrant old books like Goethe, Hugo, of all things the Maxims of William Penn, just reading to show off to myself that I was reading. Yet this lead the way to actual interest in reading.
Reading #10 Death Roger Brunelle
Music/Konitz intro over groove
O mon pauvre ti jean si tu sava tout le trouble et toute les larmes epuis let pauvres envoyages de la tete au sein, pur la douleur, las grosse douleur, impossible de cette vie ou on's trouve daume a la mort- pourquoi, pourquoi, pourquoi,
Music/Konitz couple of beats
sulement pour suffrir, comme ton pere emil, comme ta tante Marie, for nothing my boy for nothing, mon enfant pauvre ti jean, sals tu mon ame que tu est destinez d'etre un homme de grosses douyleurs et talent ca aidra jamais vivre ne mourir, tu va souffrir comme les autres,
Music/Konitz couple of beats
Kerouac: My Brother died when he was four years old. He told my mother he was going to build her a little white cottage in heaven. Gerard Francois Kerouac.
Music/Konitz intro over bells
Reading #11 Grotto Gregory Corso
A kid across the street from Joe's died , we heard wailing; another kid in a street between Joe's and mine, died-rain, flowers-the smell of flowers-an old Legionnaire died, in blue gold horrors of cloth and velvet and insignias and paper-wreaths and the cadaverous death of satin pillows- oh yoi yoi I hate that - my whole death and Sax is wound in satin coffins-
Music/Konitz couple of loops
Count Condu slept in one day below the Castle-purple lip't-they buried little boys in them - I was my brother in a satin coffin, he was nine, he lay with the stillness of the face of my former wife in her sleep, accomplished, regretted- the coffin streaks, spiders join his hand below-he'd lay in the sun of worms lookin for the lambs of the sky-he'd gook a ghost no more in the shroudy halls of sand incarnate dirt behung in drapes of grain by level deep doop dung what a thing to gape at -AND THROUGH ROTTING SATIN.
Music/Konitz couple of loops
I gave up the church to ease my horrors too much candlelight, too much wax-I prefer rivers in my death or seas, and other continents, but no satin death in Satin Massachusetts Lowell-with the bishop O' St. Jean de Baptiste Stone, who baptized Gerard, with a wreath in the rain, beads on his iron nose, "Mama did he baptize me?" "No he baptized Gerard, " I wished - I was just a little too young to have been baptized by a Saint of the Hero church, Gerard had, and so baptized saint did thus die-rain across the Rouault Gray Baroque Strasbourg Cathedral facade Big Minster Face of St. Jean Baptiste church on Merrimac Street at Aiken's sad end-rising stone heap from the tenements of Moody Street - grooking rivers piled beneath.
Doctor Sax traversed the darknesses between pillars in the church at vespertime.
Music/Konitz couple of loops
Kerouac:
There's a thousand guys in this town that know more about heaven than I do.
Hi-hat figure Konitzs’ Lowell Blues couple of minutes
Kerouac " my thought does not have to be improved because I got it from heaven just like you got yours.”
the words of Jack Kerouac
(excerpted from Kerouac’s novel Doctor Sax)
Drum roll.
Kerouac. " I've got an announcement to make.
Roll
"In my opinion, Lowell Ma is now the most interesting city in the United States of America."
Music/Konitz I/IV guitar 22 or so measures 4/4
transition to fog horns
Reading #1 Birth Willie Loco Alexander.
It was in Centralville I was born. in Pawtucketville I saw Dr. Sax across the wide basin to the hill - on Lupine road, March 1922, at five O'clock in the afternoon of a red-all over suppertime,
Music/Konitz four beats
as drowsily beers were tapped in Moody and Lakeview saloons and the river rushed with her cargoes of ice over reddened slick rocks and on the shores the reeds swayed among mattresses and cast -off boots of Time,
Music/Konitz couple beats
and lazily pieces of snow dropped pluck from bagging branches of black thorny oily pine in their thaw and beneath the wet snows of the hillside receiving the suns lost rays the melts of winter mixed with roars of Merrimac - I was born.
Music/Konitz four beats
Bloody rooftop. Strange deed. all eyes I came hearing the river's red. I remember that afternoon, I perceived it through beads hanging in a door and through lace curtains and glass of a universal sad lost redness of mortal damnation. ... the snow was melting . The snake was coiled in the hill not my heart.
Music/Konitz twelve beats
Drum Roll.
Keroauc " My job is to describe heaven just a little bit, just a little bit.
Reading #2 Wrinkly Tar Robert Creeley
The other night I had a dream that I was sitting on the sidewalk on Moody Street, Pawtucketville, Lowell, Mass., with a pencil and paper in my hand saying to myself " Describe the wrinkly tar of this sidewalk, also the iron pickets of the Textile Institute, or the doorway where Lousy and you and G. J.'s always sittin and dont stop to think of words when you do-stop, just stop to think of the picture better-and let your mind off yourself in this work."
Music/Konitz six beats
In the dream of the wrinkly tar corner I saw it, hauntingly, Riverside Street as it ran across Moody and into the fabulously rich darknesses of Sarah Avenue and Rosemont the Mysterious...
Music/Konitz three beats
Rosemont:-community built in the floodable river flats and also on gentle slopes uprising that to the foot of the sandbank, the cemetery meadows and haunted ghostfields of Luxy Smith hermits and Mill pond so mad-in the dream I only fancied the first steps from the "wrinkly tar," right around the corner, views of Moody Street Lowell-arrowing to the City Hall Clock (with time) and downtown red antennas and Chinese restaurant Kearney Square neons in the Massachusetts Night;
Music/Konitz four beats
then a glance to the right at Riverside Street running off to hide itself in the rich respectaburban wildhouses of Fraternity presidents of Textile (O!) and oldlady Whitehairs landladies, the street suddenly emerging from this Americana of lawns and screens and Emily Dickinson hidden school -teachers behind lace blinds into the raw drama of the river where the land, the New England rockyland of highbluffs dipped to kiss the lip of Merrimac in his rushing roars over tumult and rock to the sea, fantastic and mysterious from the snow North, good-bye;-
Music/Konitz four beats
walked to the left, passed the holy doorway where G.J. and Lousy and I hung sitting in the mystery which I now see hugens, huger, into something beyond my Grook, beyond my Art & Pale, into the secret of what God has done with my Time.
Music/Konitz till piano ends
Reading #3 The Mills David Amram/
Oh tall red chimneys of the Cotton Mills of Lowell, tall redbrick goof of Boott, swaying in the terminus clouds of the wild hoorah day and dreambell afternoon.
Music/Konitz two loops
Late red Sunday (afternoon) in Lowell, on the Boott Mills the great silent light shrouded the redbrick in a maze of haze sorrow,
Music/Konitz two loops
something mute but about to speak lurked in the sight of these silent glowing mills seen on dumb Sundays of choked cleanness and odors of flower...
Music/Konitz two loops
with just a trace of red earth grain by grain crawling out of the green and coming back into real life to smash the Sunday choke life, return earth to the issue, with it night later on..
Music/Konitz three loops
I walk along the long sunny concrete rail of the millyards in the booming roar of the windows where my mother's working , I am horrified by the cotton dresses of the women rushing out of the mills at five-the women work to much! they're not home any more! They work more than they ever worked! - Dickey and I covered these millyards and agreed millwork was horrible.
Reading #4 Now a door slams Carolyn Cassady
Now a door slams, the kids have rushed out for the last play, the mothers are planning and slamming in kitchens. You can hear it out in the swish leave orchards on pop corn swings in the million foliaged sweet wafted night of sighs, songs swishes.
Music/Konitz few beats
A thousand things up and down the street, deep lovely, dangerous, aureating . breathing, throbbing like stars. A whistle, a faint yell, the flow of Lowell over rooftops beyond, the bark on the river, the wild goose of the night yakking ducking in the sand and sparkle, the ululating lap and pearl and lovely mystery on the shore.
Music/Konitz few beats
Dark always dark, the rivers cunning unseen lips murmuring kisses. Eating night, stealing sand sneaky.
Music/Konitz few beats
Kerouac: "Proust and Joyce are the greatest twentieth Century writers, Joyce was blind and was going sit by the sea and write the sounds of the sea and he died so I did it for him.
Music/Konitz few beats
Reading #5 The Merrimac Johnny Depp
Follow the great rivers on the maps of South American (origin of Doctor Sax),
Music/Konitz few beats
trace your Putumayos to a Napofurther Amazonian junction, map the incredible uncrossable jungles, the southern Paranas of amaze, stare at the huge grook of a continent bulging with an Arctic-Antarctic to me the Merrimac River was a Mighty Napo of continental importance... the continent of New England.
Music/Konitz few beats
She fed from some snakelike source with maws approach and wide, welled from the hidden dank, came, named Merrimac, into the winding Weirs and Franklin Falls, the Winepesaukes (of Nordic pine) (and Albatrossian grandeur), the Manchesters, Concords, Plum Islands of Time. The thunderous husher of our sleep at night. I could hear it rise from the rocks in a groaning wush ululating with the water, sprawlsh, sprawlsh, oom, oom, zoooo, all night long the river says zooo, zooo,
Music/Konitz several beats
the stars are fixed in rooftops like ink. Merrimac, dark name, sported dark valleys: my Lowell had the great trees of antiquity in the rocky north waving over lost arrowhead and Indian scalps, the pebbles on the slatecliff beach are full of hidden beads and were stepped on barefoot by Indians.
Music/Konitz several beats
Merrimac comes swooping from a north of eternity's, falls pissing over locks, crack and froths on rocks, bloth, and rolls frawing to the kale, calmed in dewpile stone holes slaty sharp (we dove off, cut our feet, summer afternoon stinky hookies, rocks full of ugly old suckers not fit to eat and crap from sewage, and dyes and you swallowed mouthfuls of the chokefull water -
Music/Konitz couple beats
By moonlight night I see the Mighty Merrimac foaming in a thousand white horses upon the tragic plains below.
Music/Konitz couple beats
Dream:– wooden sidewalk planks of Moody Street Bridge fall out, I hover on beams over rages of white horses in the roaring low, -moaning onward, armies and cavalries of charging Euplantus Eudronicus King Grays Loop'd & curly like artists' work, and with clay souls'snow curlicue rooster togas in the fore front. I had a terror of those waves, those rocks.
Music/Konitz several beats to end
Reading #6 The Flood Roger Brunelle
Mon duex ti jean, regard la grosse flood qui va arriveq-"tut-thut-thut-c'est mechant s'gross riviere la quand qu'y'a bien d'la neige qui fond dans l'nord dan l'printemps, Cosse que va arrivez? parsonne sai.Person sai.
(T.J. look at the big flood that's going to happen. It's bad those big rivers when there's a lot of snow that melts in the north in the spring. What's going to happen? Nobody knows?)
Music/Konitz several beats over flood warning
Reading #7 The Library Joyce Johnson
A strange lull took place after the flood and before the mysteries the universe was suspending itself for a moment like a drop of dew on the beck of a bird at dawn. By Saturday the river has gone way down and you see all the raw marks of the flood on wall and shore. The whole town is soaked, muddy and tired. By Saturday morning the sun is shining , the sky is piercingly heartbreakingly blue, and my sister and I are dancing over the Moody Street Bridge to get out Saturday morning library books. All the night before I've been dreaming of books- I'm standing in the children's library in the basement, rows of glazed brown books are in front of me,I reach out and open one --my soul thrills to touch the soft used meaty pages covered with avidites of reading --at last, at last, I'm opening the magic brown book-- I see the great curlicued print, the immense candelabra firstletters at the beginnings of chapters--and Ah! --picture of rosy fairies in blue mist gardens with gingerbread Holland skylark rooftops (with breadcrumbs on them), talking to wistful heroines about the mean old monster on the other bosky side of the dale-- " In another part of the forest, mein princess, the lark's largesse is largely hidden" and other sinister meanings.
Music/Konitz couple of beats
Shortly after dreaming that I dive into dreams of upper hills with white houses slashed across by rays of a Maine sun, sending sad redness over pines,in a long highway that goes unbelievably and with remorse...
Music/Konitz one beat
jump off the bus so I can stay in little Gardiner, I bang at shutters, that sun's same red, not soap, the people of the north are silent, I take a freight train to Lowell and settle on that little hill where I rode my bicycle down, near lupine road , near the house where batty woman had the catholic alter Where I remember the statue of the Virgin Mary in her living room candlelight.
Music/Konitz intro over piano tickle
Reading #8 Nursery Rhyme Willie Alexander
So the polly wogs grow and bigger frogs croak by the may pole in the mud. Crazy lazy swings her crutches, was the wife of Dr. Sax, Gave him up for a crud. Maybelle dizzytime a gal of many fancies swings her shadow ape. In the Cloaks of mid night whamsy the ball of the pollywog may time. The dance of the flooded mall. Crack went the castle underground Cank Can tank old moritzy flumes his froosures in the dank . Dabble-doo dabbleydey, the ring has got the cray. Ring ga la ralla man Ring a la dee.
Reading #9 The Library Carolyn Cassady
Music/Konitz intro over Bass Clarinet
Bragging still, but telling the truth still, during all this time I was getting A's and B's in high school, mainly because I used to cut classes at least once a week, to play hooky that is , just so I could go to the Lowell Public Library and study by myself at leisure such things as old chess books with their fragrance of scholarly thought, their old bindings, leading me to investigate other fragrant old books like Goethe, Hugo, of all things the Maxims of William Penn, just reading to show off to myself that I was reading. Yet this lead the way to actual interest in reading.
Reading #10 Death Roger Brunelle
Music/Konitz intro over groove
O mon pauvre ti jean si tu sava tout le trouble et toute les larmes epuis let pauvres envoyages de la tete au sein, pur la douleur, las grosse douleur, impossible de cette vie ou on's trouve daume a la mort- pourquoi, pourquoi, pourquoi,
Music/Konitz couple of beats
sulement pour suffrir, comme ton pere emil, comme ta tante Marie, for nothing my boy for nothing, mon enfant pauvre ti jean, sals tu mon ame que tu est destinez d'etre un homme de grosses douyleurs et talent ca aidra jamais vivre ne mourir, tu va souffrir comme les autres,
Music/Konitz couple of beats
Kerouac: My Brother died when he was four years old. He told my mother he was going to build her a little white cottage in heaven. Gerard Francois Kerouac.
Music/Konitz intro over bells
Reading #11 Grotto Gregory Corso
A kid across the street from Joe's died , we heard wailing; another kid in a street between Joe's and mine, died-rain, flowers-the smell of flowers-an old Legionnaire died, in blue gold horrors of cloth and velvet and insignias and paper-wreaths and the cadaverous death of satin pillows- oh yoi yoi I hate that - my whole death and Sax is wound in satin coffins-
Music/Konitz couple of loops
Count Condu slept in one day below the Castle-purple lip't-they buried little boys in them - I was my brother in a satin coffin, he was nine, he lay with the stillness of the face of my former wife in her sleep, accomplished, regretted- the coffin streaks, spiders join his hand below-he'd lay in the sun of worms lookin for the lambs of the sky-he'd gook a ghost no more in the shroudy halls of sand incarnate dirt behung in drapes of grain by level deep doop dung what a thing to gape at -AND THROUGH ROTTING SATIN.
Music/Konitz couple of loops
I gave up the church to ease my horrors too much candlelight, too much wax-I prefer rivers in my death or seas, and other continents, but no satin death in Satin Massachusetts Lowell-with the bishop O' St. Jean de Baptiste Stone, who baptized Gerard, with a wreath in the rain, beads on his iron nose, "Mama did he baptize me?" "No he baptized Gerard, " I wished - I was just a little too young to have been baptized by a Saint of the Hero church, Gerard had, and so baptized saint did thus die-rain across the Rouault Gray Baroque Strasbourg Cathedral facade Big Minster Face of St. Jean Baptiste church on Merrimac Street at Aiken's sad end-rising stone heap from the tenements of Moody Street - grooking rivers piled beneath.
Doctor Sax traversed the darknesses between pillars in the church at vespertime.
Music/Konitz couple of loops
Kerouac:
There's a thousand guys in this town that know more about heaven than I do.
Hi-hat figure Konitzs’ Lowell Blues couple of minutes
Kerouac " my thought does not have to be improved because I got it from heaven just like you got yours.”