APPARENTLY I WILL DIE,
FRANK CORCORAN
Yes, I always loved my ” Liber Usualis ” , its lumpy weight , full of black
neums.
Apparently I will die, – not only Seamus Heaney and David Frost
have had that privilege.
So who´ll then see this aurora turn to dawn ? Will it turn to dawn?
Where will my universe of felt feelings and drunk drinks and
suffered tones and negative feelings and pettinesses and ecstasy and
ecstasies and big take-offs and small ( – the Phrank Cork Universe, we´ll
call it ),
my mortal sensorium , all my reeling films and thrusts towards love, towards truth,
be gone to?
We´re back to “Cogito ergo cogitans sum”, a grand tautology, the black boot-straps heaving to pull me up
further;
But now stilled for ever after my passing,
my full stop.
How on
earth will all this earth get on at all ?
To be continued.
Watch your cork.
Caoin tú féin ; but only just enough .
Beware processions, Seamus.
Get back, ye millions !
Start the Big YELL at the beginning of my big electronic piece, ” TRADURRE / TRADIRE ” !
Deep brass and tearing timps of my Second Symphony ( -recently re-heard in Blankenese, Hamburg ).
Work well worked.
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