This is some sort of prose poem that I wrote based on notes taken during a talk given by Robert Wilson at the Maerzmusik Festival for New Music (see post from March 2009). I had forgotten about it until now and present it for your delectation and perplexed delight.

The function of our bodies is to carry stones The function of our minds is to make eating palatable I’m paraphrasing no doubt From an interview about I film a haven’t Even seen The ubiquity of the diphthong makes opera in English A tricky proposition The language is good for two things only - Country And hip hop Can you sing faster than a 72 quarter note? Have you ever Crossed the Appalachians and the Rock- ies and found that by the time you reached the West Your entire language - the verbal heritage of Generations Had been reduced To a Few sayings? So that the people you lived among scarce understood Anymore what it was - -you were saying? How could anyone ever have writer’s block? To anyone allegedly suffering from this so-called Affliction Go outside To the park Or just a stoop And talk and Talk Hold a conversation with yourself and train yourself To Speak in Public This will allow (you) to tell stories You could never tell before So many stories you’ll have Thank me then, after you’ve Said all your Hallelujahs…