Song of a Reformed Headhunter

Too tired to post anything substantial, but do want to record a couple of things before they fly out of my head. Yes, this is a mishmash. Watched, or was it heard, Wynton Marsalis at 50 on PBS last night, while unfriending more than a hundred people on Facebook whom I have never talked to and who never talked to me. I liked the more complex, more "classical" compositions than the more populist ones. But what do I know about jazz? Zilch. I heard jazz at Iridium once, a long time ago, and did not enjoy the music, though the company was delightful. In New Orleans earlier this year, I heard an old-style jazz band, and imagined that this was the kind of music that Larkin loved and hated Charlie Parker for destroying. GH and I watched Weekend last Saturday night. There are at least four different movies that go by that name on imdb, not including movies titled The Weekend . You would have thought that directors or studios would try harder to come up with something original. The...

Another America the eye-white sky-light white-light district of lunar lusts      Mina Loy, “Lunar Baedeker” Port people with sea for eyes and river mouths set up campfires, courses of dirt, and chandelier palaces The other Paris who picked Hera, objectively most beautiful, for the apple from the Hesperides received the city, the arrangement of avenues, handkerchief parks, noon showers that flirt with bicyclists but keep their promise to the asphalt, midnight inheritance of the stars, cemeteries on land Sailors on saddles sing of the jacaranda district ride, singing, to the silver altar in the silver Basilica The tango schools once taught men only to drop like a purple petal from the mouth of the gaucho