(Jazz/Instrumental) Steve Swallow with Robert Creeley - So There(with Steve Kuhn and the Cikada Quartet) - 2006, FLAC (image + .cue), lossless (All Music)

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Oh No
If you wander far enough
you will come to it
and when you get there
they will give you a place to sit
for yourself only, in a nice chair,
and all your friends will be there
with smiles on their faces
and they will likewise all have places.
Names
Harry has written
all he knows.
Miriam tells
her thought, Peter
says again
his mind. Robert and John,
William, Tom,
and Helen, Ethel,
that woman whose name
he can't remember
or she even him
says to tell
all they know.
Here Again
He was walking
toward the other in-
viting him for-
ward now with an eager antici-
pation he could rec-
ognize if not al-
together trust him-
self with any-
one else still
waiting also
to be met.
Ambition
Couldn't guess it, couldn't be it –
wasn't ever
there then. Won't
come back, don't
want it.
Indians
Big, wise
man. The happy
woman
in a place she found. He
waited
in the clearing.
from Histoire De Florida
You're there
still behind
the mirror,
brother face.
Only yesterday
you were younger,
now you
look old.
Come out
while there's still time
left
to play.
Sufi Sam Christian
Lift me into heaven
slowly 'cause my back's
sore and my mind's too
thoughtful, and I'm not
even sure I want to go.
Later
Later than any time
can tell me, finding
ways now as I can –
any blame, anything
I shouldn't do, any
thing forgotten, any way
to continue, this little
way, these smaller ways –
pride I had, what I thought
I could do, had done.
Anyone, anything, still
out there – is there some
one possible, something
not in mind still as
my mind, my way. I
persist only in wanting,
only in thinking, only now
in waiting, for that way
to be the way I can
still let go, still want, and
still let go, and want to.
from Wellington, New Zealand
What do you
think those hills
are going to do now?
They got
all the lights on –
all the people.
You know
if you never
you won't
from Eight Plus
We talk like
this too
often someone
Miles
Simple trips, going
places, wasted
feelings, alone
at last, all the rest
of it, counting, keeping
it together, the weather,
the particular people, all
the ways you have to.
Just In Time
for Anne
Over the unwritten
and under the written
and under and over
and in back and in front of
or up or down or in
or in place of, of not,
of this and this, of
all that is, of it.
Return
Quiet as is proper for such places;
The street, subdued, half-snow, half-rain,
Endless, but ending in the darkened doors.
Inside, they who will be there always,
Quiet as is proper for such people –
Enough for now to be here, and
To know my door is one of these.
Echo
It was never
simple to wait, to sit quiet.
Was there still
another way round, a distance to go –
as if an echo
hung in
the air before
one was heard,
before a word
had been said.
What was love
and where
and how did one get there.
Sad Advice
If it isn't fun, don't do it.
You'll have to do enough that isn't.
Such is life, like they say,
no one gets away without paying
and since you don't get to keep it
anyhow, who needs it.
Riddle
What'd you throw it on the floor for?
Who the hell you think you are
come in here
push me around.
Blue Moon
The chair's still there,
but the goddamn sun's
gone red again –
and instead of Mabel
there is a potato,
or something like that there,
sitting like it owned the place.
It's got no face
and it won't speak to anyone.
I'm scared.
If I had legs,
I'd run.
I Know a Man
As I sd to my
friend, because I am
always talking, – John, I
sd, which was not his
name, the darkness sur-
rounds us, what
can we do against
it, or else, shall we &
why not, buy a goddamn big car,
drive, he sd, for
Christ's sake, look
out where yr going.
A Valentine For Pen
I love you, says the clock, paradoxically silent, watching
through the night with red eyes. I love you, says the long
wooden table across from the wide bed with the bookcase
upright beside it, the black lamp arching over, the old computer
waiting for its work. I love you, I love you, the echoes, reaches
of the tall room, the hanging pictures, the catalogs, clothes, the
cats securely sleeping on the disheveled old couch, the pulled up
small rug put over its cushions, all say it, the enclosing dear room,
the balcony above which opens at each end to bedrooms of the
children, I love you, says Hannah's ample particular heart, says
Will's wide responsive heart, says each resonance of every sweet
morning's opening, here said, again and again, I love you.