APPARENTLY I WILL DIE, FRANK CORCORAN
Yes, I always loved my ” Liber Usualis ” , its lumpy weight , full of black
neums.
Apparently I willdie, – not only Seamus Heaney and David Frost
have just had that privilege.
So who´ll see this aurora turn to dawn then ? 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,
“truth” and “love” be gone to?
We´re back to “Cogito ergo cogitans sum” , a grand tautology , my black boot-straps heaving to pull me up
further; now stilled for ever after my passing,
stopping,full stop.
How on
earth will 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 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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