Jack chapter  6

Do you want the big music?                          

 

 

 

 

 

                       before the laughing tears start

 

 

                                           

If the feast she’d promised was a small one — you couldn’t say

they were short on wine—with, for three people, the giant skin full,

still on the platform, propped up now by a heavy beam

because it was way too heavy to move until a dozen gallons

or more were drawn from it, which, Jack thought, even

if they had all three been drunks would take weeks.

 

Till then, he wondered—with the lift thus disabled—

what would they do—once the current tub was emptied—

for water?  Rappel down to the river for each drink?

 

When they’d finished with black bread—and the wine that chased it—

a salad of flowers—wine chased it—cheese and field peas—

and the wine that chased them—

 

the hostess

                    put

                        a blue

                  wool blanket behind

            the golden harp

                                    giving a

            background

                        to its vibrating pictures. “It’s easier to see

                                    like this

            in the open, here—don’t

                                                you think?”

It was, they nodded.  And wine

chased the nods.

Solomon told his wife—

“Apple Jack big-whispers, ‘hello.’

 

Jack looked up. He knew they meant

the small giant—no larger than an apple tree

in a chicken yard—who traveled with Tall Poignyance and

Grinning Littleman. They had to mean the little giant

Jack himself had wrestled, years ago now. So,

he was called Apple Jack, was he, the one

who had tricked Jack into “winning” his own stash

of this wine? Then Tall had laid the giant skin,

as deliberately as you’d fasten a doll’s button,

across Jack’s own old mule’s back. The long gone

soft loud liquid unfolding, filling the giant skin’s

new contours, sounded right there in this present night

beside him, right beside his ear. See,

the wine had him already.

The laughing tears would start shortly.

 

Jack marveled at finding normal sized people

who knew these beings well enough to receive

big-whispered casual greetings.

 

“To Tall Poignyance”—the woman

lifted an imaginary glass—just like

the real one full by her plate, Jack thought,

 

attributing to her hand

that skill of suggestion, though we might also

link it to the wine’s giving Jack the power, or the

 

weakness, of confounding the compound

of the imagined with the actual we take

for the real.

                               

Sol said, “Speaking of Tall,

let me say, before

the laughing tears start,

 

“he thinks

we should not do the mission at all.”

It was the wine that made Jack have to fight

 

an impulse to grin, as Sol continued, “He thinks we have

a decent chance to succeed. He admits it is

a ‘good’ action, ‘relatively,’ as he says.

 

But he says that’s just the problem—by dealing

within good and evil we inevitably kick in

duality—

                 so we can only

 

“‘redistribute fortune.’ For every prisoner we free

somewhere another one is taken, perhaps  in quite

a different manner. We’d only

 

“’stroke the churning,’ he says. And even

the beneficiaries of our actions would be ‘charged

with delay of destiny.’ Of course

 

“this was Grinning Little Man

actually doing the talking

after—thankfully—only one

 

“hillside-of-shale-shaking

            sentence

                        from Poignyance himself.

 

“Little Man

knew the spiel well

and acted quite the authority

 

“holding forth upon it.”

The woman asked—“What does he mean,

‘relatively’

            good action?”  She asked.

 

Solomon sighed. He might

not have noticed he had lost

Jack’s attention.

 

“It could

be argued — Lord knows it is

argued

 

that the activity at the Highway Troll’s camp

is

“not so different from our introducing

 

an irritant into oysters to cultivate pearls.

Or — Little Man actually said this to me,

as if we a pair of giants in an argument

 

over a couple a tubs of beer — ‘not worse

than a non-vegetarian giant eating

people.’”

 

 

 

            over the flapping world to see their little house

 

 

Jack’s mind had skipped from that hilly country—back over farm lands

the wine rode his blood, and back over wheat fields, back

over pastures, flying powerfully as a thunder shower

his thoughts went homeward

 

because the harp

   was playing

                         now

                                  a simple old song, one

 

his mother had liked, and the presence of the giant wine skin

as much as the wine itself took him over the flapping world to see

their little house, where to this day what was left

of his own stash of the wine of tall poignyance was hid

 

in the hay loft. His second

cousin and

his second cousin’s wife — he rented the old place to them

for next to nothing — called it “that old stuff” and would

 

leave it alone — All these thoughts on the outer

circumference of remembrance — At the center —

his mother’s glowing pipe bowl. Was it her tears

or his own that blurred the red yellow burn?

 

What harm for the old lady to sip the giant draught and watch

thru laughing tears the smoke of her pipe taken

into the admixture of twilight? singing to herself —

not all that well — this same song the harp played now —

 

                                    Wrap me around

                                    In your arms so strong

                                    Stand over me

                                    I feel I belong

 

                                    Wrap me around

                                    So sweet I could bleed

                                    I see your power

                                    But I feel your need

 

She would sing it over and over, as far back as Jack could remember,

the melody maybe changing, but never the words, and between the wine

and the harp’s wondrous accuracy of reproduction,

logic loosed the notion most likely his mother had sung

that song when she nursed him. Most certainly

she had, suddenly he knew.

 

He lifted his real glass to an imaginary clinking—offered

a delayed return of the woman’s toast, “To Tall Poignyance.”

 

 

 

                        it was the wine

 

Jack didn’t notice, as he hadn’t been listening to Solomon,

that he offered the toast at a point in the conversation

that made it seem Jack agreed with the giant’s advice

against undertaking Solomon’s mission. He did not notice

when Solomon looked at him sharply.

                                                                 What Jack

was thinking,

                        still holding in his hand the glass he had bumped

against empty air, was ‘it rings like very good crystal.’

 

Maybe these glasses, like so many things here, came out

from the lower ‘door’ down around on the side of the rock.

When he thought of the rock he looked toward it, huge

in the bright moonlight. The moon moved west

and the rock’s shadow sneaked up the hill backwards.

It was the wine that made Jack want to go cut

a piece of that shadow, like cake,

and bring it back for them to smell for pleasure.

 

“The wine is good,” he said aloud.

 

“To Tall Poignyance,” the lady said,

raising her arm again.

 

Over a distant ridge just then dipped the giant lightening bugs

which, last night, had lit up the river water and the mule’s inebriate climb.

A moving black cloud passed under the moon and in the new

darkness the far fireflies gold illumination seemed to bring the stark trees

on the hills below them into being all over again every time they signaled.

 

Tonight was Solomon’s turn to be

impatient to   

get something said.

                        “Though it is

                                    permissible certainly, 

 a good thing even, to do

 

          “what is

            a ‘good thing’

                          inside

whatever ones world is at the time,

                        you’ll be disappointed if you expect

                   any improvement, however real,

            to cause a continued perception of

increased well being.”

 

“We knew that,” she said. She may have noticed

Jack’s inattention

                   for she did not hide in her voice siftings of

            an ash of anger.

“Why go to all this effort

            down here

                     that does only temporary good in just

one place at a time?”

 

“Because, my dear, down

here

is the only place I can love you.”

 

Just then the cloud moved off the moon and the rock

and its shadow leapt into prominence again. Its startling appearance

seemed a consequence of his words. It was the wine.

The shadow of the rock backed up the hill toward them like orchestral punctuation.

 

           She smiled;

then she sighed; then

she smiled then

looked thoughtful. Then

she said, the anger much softened, “I don’t think

we should do the mission.” She

started to laugh. .  .   .                          

                        “And I don’t want you . . .”

her laughter increased at such a rate                 

by the time she finished her sentence   . . “going . .”

it seemed like the punch line to a joke .  .  .   “to Nashville . . .”

spoiled by the storyteller’s own laughter.

 

Jack watched the fireflies.

They were coming closer.

 

 

 

            this music fanned her laughter

 

              

                        The harp

abruptly switched music. It played again

its Handel-like double concerto for harmonica

and whoop-holler. This music fanned her laughter

for it flared up to the point

it became voiceless

                        almost alarming

                    and Jack looked up

at the woman—who had fed him, had given

or loaned him clothing—who had

 

into his story telling bluntly dropped argument

slight as bean seed—who’d heard,

that afternoon, the most intimate details

of his marriage and who, more than that, for two

days now, had known his name.

 

The wine

                 said to him

                         she was his

beautiful friend now—how come he

seemed to know her from forever? the wine asked—

she sure had pretty little ole titties the wine said—

but, the wine went on, other

 

than as Solomon’s wife,

you don’t know

what to call her.

 

So Jack said, “What

is

your name?”

 

A solid little smile formed

among her liquid laughter.

She regained her voice

and answered,

 

“Ikon Knott Seayminaim.”

 

“Well, I kant SayYourName, either,”

Jack said.

 

She—“Kant you, Immuael Jack? So

            what would you call me?

 

Jack—“I thought you were a Gail. I would

            call you, Gail Gordini.”

 

She—“Oh, I’m Italian! Half

          Italian. My brain is Italian, I bet.”

 

Solomon—“Where on earth

            did you get ‘Gordini?’” as if

            the Gail part were logical.

 

Jack — “I have no idea.”

 

 

 

            it was the wood that was precious

 

 

The golden frame of the

harp

has dark

streaks that

resemble wood grain. So skillful

the elfin smith had been, it looked

like a wooden harp Midas might have touched

accidentally and jerked his hand away quick enough

it retained the breathing as well as the streaking

of wood.

 

The harp’s                                  

playing around

with bird song     that had seemed                            

that morning      disinterested    paid off now.

It changed tunes and tonalities again and again

and issued melody assembled from

the sub-melodies of bird calls    but with a linear sweep    transformed

to fugue by an effort toward spatial spread      topographic on purpose

and beautiful by accident        as flawless    as if it had never interrupted    

practice of bird call                       

                                 to tell naughty princess stories     

and honk out donkey strong songs.     

Arpeggios of pure harp tone     

moving behind it—you could hear the wood     

in the gold and it was the wood     

that was precious.      

 

 

            what this bird bold melody looked like

 

 

Together Jack and ‘Gail’ had looked at the strings

to see what this bird bold melody

looked like.

                        .           It seemed abstract at first but

    trying to figure out

                                    what was funny about the picture’s evolution

they began intermittently to see flashes of objects in action

in the processed bird music. First,                      

since her husband sat across the table where only the top of his head

showed on the harp frame, Jack and Ikon Knott saw his dark hair’s reflection

make, as he moved forward and back, a growing

and shrinking hat like Abraham Lincoln’s. So, for

the moment, it was dignity

            that was funny.           

                         Then — “You are in there,”

                             Gail  

                                    said to Jack,

                                                 “maybe.”

                        With more surprise she said,

                                                            “I

                                                      am in there!”

Now it was Solomon’s time to laugh.

Neither one said

in the harp’s picture they were naked

and you couldn’t be sure they were the way

the pattern of colors splashed

like the mosaic on a blue jay’s back when it flips its wings to hop

 

making them no sooner naked on the screen then not there at all

but you could not deny that what might have been their brief appearing

coincided with peak moments in Solomon’s laughter.

 

Ikon Knott opened her

            gown

and looked down at herself,

seemingly

     unaware of

the presence of

      Jack

                or

              her husband,

as if to study

  to find

       differences—a more

tangerine color of the nipple

   than the pale one on the harp

          maybe.

 

If they had talked about it

Jack would have agreed with

an assessment

of

very little

difference

between what

 

he saw

in the open world now and

what flitted on the screen;

tho Jack’s interest was only

very marginally in the accuracy of the harp, hers

from the concentration on her face,

seemed to be entirely

on whether that was really what

she looked like.

 

Solomon sent to Jack an “I don’t

    know

what

         she’s

      doing!”  shrug.

 

in from the diaspora of their separate musings

 

 

The harp grew

quiet

suddenly

and then

dark.

 

Then

a female

voice

came from within it—

sharp—

speaking, half

shouting—over a single bass drum’s

simple pounding—

 

“Jack!

 

“Jack!

 

“Jack!”

 

Pulled in from the diaspora of their separate

musings they all looked at the harp

 

and

saw —

Jack himself saw —

Jack

himself — his bearded face

on the wavering screen

but

when

his face

disappeared

for a beat

straw

flashed there —

the focus abnormally

clear. “I

smell the straw,”

Ikon Knott said. It had been there 

so briefly the night space

in front of harp was confused.

             “That is the prison camp straw,”

Jack said.

 

Solomon asked, “Jack, do you

understand this?”

 

He opened his mouth

to say no and had

already shook his head when

his mouth said,

“I know

one thing.

 

“When I told you

about

    Sweet Talkin’ Man. 

I left something out

because till now I didn’t think it pertinent.

There on the giant beanstalk, hiding with him in the crimp

in the giant leaf behind the shack that the guards

watched the prisoners from,

when I turned my head one time I noticed past

where that toothless fellow’s

image

would be

        on the reflective frame of the harp,

            

“I could only

    see a woman, one who did

            and did not

look like him. (For one thing she had

all of her teeth.) He saw

me see this and pointed

thru the window.

An almost normal mirror—although the images had

too much blue shadow—hung on

a wall to reflect

a maximum

angle

on

the prisoner’s yard.

 

“I slowly came to understand an

inversion

of male and female

had to be made

to follow all the players in

the underlying weave of action

from one sight to the other. It was hard

to match a prisoner with its other in the mirror because

not only was the sex different but frequently the ages too

so that an old woman could be a baby boy in the glass

and a twenty year old man might be, in there, an older

woman. Perhaps I studied for as long as half an hour

before I suspected the pattern.

 

“Sweet Talking Man could see

when I got it. He said, ‘sometimes

you need to remember this

 

‘to understand what’s goin’ on,’

pointing at himself

as the woman in the reflecting frame. She smiled

out at me and nodded her agreement.

                  ‘But most of the time’ he said,

‘it don’t matter. Sometimes

I look

            in the mirror, and sometimes

out the window—it

don’t make no difference

in

  the

       go

              rounds,’ was how he put it, ‘which one

 

            ‘is

        the man and

            which the woman.

It’s just kinda like backwards or something.’

 

“I asked him, ‘But which is the truth?’.

 

“He said, ‘Son, They ain’t

no truth out here. Where you

been?’

 

“I kept after him, ‘But

when you are back home

are you a man or

a woman?’”

 

Prison camp straw flashed over the harp strings again—

On and off like a power failure—then

it stayed dark, the strings

as dumb as the frame itself

until the woman’s voice came again—

Jill’s voice, he knew it now to be — 

“Jack!”

as if out of nothing.

Then Jack’s face, blurred over the strings,

said with the feminine voice, synchronized

this time,

 

”Jack!”

 

“It’s Jill,” Ikon Knott said.

 

Solomon asked—“Why do you say that?”

but his doubt had no courage.

 

“Jack!”

 

“It’s Jill,” she said again. When she said it

the second time it seemed twice true

Jill was there with them like the 4th man

in the fire with Shadrack, Meshack,

and Abendigo. Her voice’s Jack face on the strings

spilled elongated from the inside out

onto the gold-wood frame, toward meeting

Jack’s outside face from within the image

over the harp’s strings.

 

 

he not only had no plan he had no bean seeds

 

 

Jack—“I have to go get her.”

 

Ikon Knott—“Of course we do.”

 

Solomon—“if you are right

            that it is Jill,

            she will be in the small

            coop, the second one.

            There are reports that they isolate

            there those captured humans

            whose vibe is especially valued, for

            rarity and color, as accent color

            in their weaving. Jill

            would be one of these.”

 

Well, Jack wondered did Ikon Knott tell her husband

of his unusual marriage or were his ex’s tastes

so well known a traveler could well have heard of them?

 

            “To get her out,” the host continued,

            “we proceed

            in what we are already doing. We

            gather provisions.

            Tomorrow

            Jack and I will travel to Nashville.”

 

Jack knew he could not hurry

to Jill—even if he had a plan

it would revolve around bean seeds

and he not only had no plan he

had no bean seeds—so

 

 

dreading to see the face again

 

dreading

to see the face

again

  he took the

    harp to his tent

 

came back

to

find

   the man and woman

      kissing

the tears

    off each

other’s faces.

 

He started to turn around quietly and leave them alone

but Ikon Knott saw him

and said “oh”

 

then she said “goodnight Jack” and

                                                       pulled her

                                     husband

                      by the arm

and they walked off hanging on each other

 

up the trail toward

the big tent.

 

  

night’s aggregate singing

 

Jack

walking away toward the guest

tent

could see

thru

                        the open flap

where he had placed the harp

              back in front

of the folded seagreen blanket. For a moment

he thought with relief

the harp had developed the taste

or at least the disinterest

not to picture them.

Then

            he realized   or

the wine made him believe    the darkness

over the strings was that of

their tent instead of his.

 

So he stopped and

sat down beside the trail

 

to be

alone

in the sweetness of night breath—he wanted to enter with eyes and mind

into the moon and wine light on the trees and deep shadows spread far

across hills beyond rows of hills beyond rows of hills—the earth

could have been entirely moon lit rolling hills covered with trees naked,

except for tiny dangling catkins opening, for all he knew at the moment—

the earth could have been a rumpled giant’s blanket with that patterned picture

on it and Jack way less than an infant among its fibers,

alone in

                nights aggregate singing.

 

Whatever

smears green all over in summer, he thought,

                             must be also compelled

                        by moon light

             in spring time

to spread,

every bit as widely, animal singing. He got the thought

maybe it was possible to feel the presence of that Whatever

and he tried that

but he did not keep his mind on it

            because now he could hear the silence doubled

 

 

now he could hear the silence doubled

 

 

            up the trail toward

            their tent

                        for

                              real

                                    and

                 from down

            the trail

         he could hear it

      rendered by

            his harp.

And

even closing his

   eyes

       did not hide

         his knowing they

      were washing each other with tear

and tongue as solid in the tumbling darkness

as the subtle sound of their kissing

   furrowed the silence.

 

His had wept so continuously the wet from his eyes

drained down over his lips and

he could feel by the taste of his own crying face

how wet and salt heavy Solomon’s

beard had to be now, absorbing

their double flow of laughing tears.

 

 

 

in the castle in your eyes, in the secret tower there

 

 

And when he finally entered his tent

he was displeased to hear

the harp relaying a talk

between Ikonknot and Solomon.

 

 She—“no that was

            not

            the first time

            we entered a conversation

            aloud, at exactly the point it had progressed to

            in silence. Just like a man

            to think that was it,

            yet it was impressive of you, to tell

            the truth, what did happen the first

            time.

 

            “Your hands were cold

            but I wore gloves

            and you said

                  ‘I’ll read it

 

              “if

                 you hold it’

            So we were almost strangers yet you were

            reading over my shoulder, your voice saying out loud

            words my eyes read silently.”

 

Solomon took up the recollection—

“Gloves or not, soon I reached to hold the book for you.

I took it and you dropped your arms and my arms, held out straight

within an inch of each breast, carefully not touching, a not touching

which charged the unspoken space between us till it felt like

our senses spread to fill up the gap between us.”

 

“Our frustration

arced the distance,”

she corrected. "Then

you got to those lines—

 

‘My love who came inside me              

whom I held firmly              

whose hand was on the lock of my being              

 

‘removed his arms              

pulled his hand away —               

I awoke and              

 

‘I was drawn to him

a softness spread in me

I was open within’”

 

“That was not

a conversation.”

“It was too.”

 

They both laughed—laughed a full minute,

almost silently tho the effort at silence itself made

them snort audibly here and there. It was the wine

made Jack understand their laughter was joyful commentary

on  the understatement that they may have communicated,

a celebration of years of the pleasures of giving pleasure

growing both subtler and stronger.

 

 “I wrote you something today. Read it.”

 

She read silently but the harp showed

an imitation of Solomon’s rather formal handwriting

with his poem.

 

                        “To Ikon Knott On Going To Nashville

 

             I have forgotten I am king.

            That i s not what I am.

            I am a warrior for your love, nothing more.

           The king in your eyes, nothing less.

        Deep in our garden away from all others, in the castle

          in your eyes, in the secret tower there,

        remember? where it is amazing? While I

            am gone, go there every night, and smile.”

 

 

Ikon brought up a new subject

 

 

Again there was the breathy silence of kissing for a while.

 

Then Ikon brought up a new subject.

She—“Have you thought my dear

            that Jack’s remarkable harp could be

            eaves dropping on us?”

                                                   The harp amplified the silence around her whisper as much as it amplified the whisper itself, so the softness of the two transparencies overlapped as they did in the original space.

                                     When Solomon answered, little bits of his full voice

broke thru the whispering like bits of dusted gravel in flour:

                         “Worse than that, I have thought

            the harp might be spying on us, and on Jack,

            for the highway trolls that oversee the Dumpties

            up the bean stalk, and for who knows what

            giant enemy beyond them?”

 

“What are we forgetting?” she said.

“We are forgetting something.”

 

 

 

the kind of warm skin wants to touch directly

 

The night was virgin warm, first of the year

kind of warm that skin wants to touch directly.

                           Clearly

            over the river             just over the ridge

                        just now the wine skin

   on the platform

                        must cast its deep

            black

  shadow triangular

                        out from the bluff down onto the

                  slapping waters

where that afternoon he had showered

spreading a film of newness

so sweet over his skin it

had made a diminishing Braille map of its absence

to guide his hand where it had not been till he’d washed all over

and because now he could stand to smell himself again, and because his skin

told him it wanted spring air all over it in the same way, he threw

back the seagreen blanket

and took off the borrowed clothes. Now

the air was warm

new places. Now the night air

was warm

on

his legs. The night

was warm

on his belly now. The night was sweet

batting open the

timpani transparent trap doors

across his nostrils letting delicious night

pour down into him

doping his blood.

Oh

now

the night

was flirting.

Now it moved

over his balls like

liquid, up

the wand that

began now to wave, now bobbed about

like a woozy boxer — blood blind thing

debating whether something’s going

to come on and clomp on it or not — and

the night air

in fact doing all it could

to move on the spongy red mass, well enuff in fact

one moment it flopped over the top, semi-straightened

back up like it heard

something coming a semi-

moment

then wised up and folded sadly into itself

like a time lapsed film of a tobacco plant’s growing

run backwards.

 

 

 

at least the size of the sky

 

 

“So, Jack, do you want the big music?”

He must be asleep. He is dreaming he and Solomon

are on the ledge

in black shadow on the back side of the great rock.

He had wanted to walk in that shadow

awake

             but he didn’t

                           get to  

                                   till now.

In thru a black crack

                        inside the shadow

                                         into

                                                     the rock they

                                        step

                                                onto

                                                       steps

                                                             goin

                                                        down.

                        How was it Jack could

tell in the darkness

            it was deeper in there by far

                                    than

                         could

                               ever

                                      fit

                                         inside even

                         the huge rock that had gradually

                 come to dominate the landscape outside, that

       he’d had to lean back at the base of to see trees growing high up

on its sides? In space

  so live and vast even

                    silence

                        reverberated,

                                             why

                                    did he know when that light

              arrived overhead he would see

                       that

        inside here

was at least the size of the sky?

 

       Solomon said, “Take

my

arm.” They walked in darkness.

The smell of fresh earth intense

though there could’ve been no plowing anywhere near.

Haven’t the seasons been mixed up lately? Jack thought. Images

of sycamores leafed, unleafed and leaving — in all four stages always

a loud white presence — lately were they out of sequence?

How long has where I put my feet down

been air? Solomon opened a door. Light spilled out toward them. Jack’s glances

back over his shoulder couldn’t find a landing place for the light. The dark chewed it —

mouth open.

 

 

 

the wall before the music fell

                       

                                                           

They walked      

            into a hall.

 Jack’s left foot and right foot

jolted down to gravity

            on a strange soft floor

                        that clacked quietly when

they stepped. Muffled thru walls he heard

strange

            large music from a band

                        featuring twin electric

guitars—Jack didn’t know it was electric guitar

music you

            understand, but he did know

                        it was twin. In fact

it was not guitar music but the harp’s dream making imitation.

Apparently she knew

            her history well

                        into the future. She got

the distance between 1954 and 1994 right to the very year

but muted

             the bass and drum blare

                        and aggressive treble

so Jack could comprehend it. Solomon opened another

door and the wall

            before the music fell

                        and they walked into its

air shaking loudness. Jack dreamed he saw men

dressed

in clothes like those Ikon Knott had

                        loaned him. He saw them make

            the music with long lyres of the ordinary type

that have to be operated

by hand.

 

As was common in his dreams a singer’s

words invented the scene. When

Jack heard,

            “As I was floating

            thru the sky,

            I saw you lying on the

            ground,”       

                                                 he saw or felt a great black bird

like a thunderstorm flying — he felt the wind it stirred — so large it blocked

the sun light in his dream — it is my dream he thought — but how do I see

what this great bird sees flying when what it sees is me — lying on the ground

thru the tent flaps dark triangle among miles of moonlit shadows?

                     

                        “I flew into             

                        blue

                    eyes   ten

                             miles

                        high,”   

At these words the black bird cloud scooted over to show

that blue with sky. The eye blue sky, the sky

blue eye,

defined by a pupil made of

a night sky hole of black nothing

moving on the blue sky.

was it coming toward him? or was

he being hurled toward it?

 

A million times a million times too big to be

the frightened iris

of Jill’s eye

 

            watched him

lying on the ground. “Jack!

 

“Jack!

 

“do you

            want the big music?”

 

 

 

the older Greek material gets the more basic the future genres it combines

 

 

I think this part                                                                                 

of his dream here for a while now was not made                             

by the harp at all but                                                                     

by his mind, whatever part                                       

of the human mind previews the future                                         

so you know, say, an uncle

will have a heart attack in the morning

or what the girl tomorrow at the car rental place

will look like though you’ve never seen her—

or that seven

starved cattle will eat up seven fat—that part

showed Jack

the musicians                                             

taking                                                                                                        

a break.                                         

They passed a smoke                                                                 

among themselves, while one of the guitar players     

    

was saying                                                                            

            “the older Greek material gets the

                                        more basic

                                                                the future genres

                                   it combines — Sophocles and his fellows

            combined horror movie with

                                                            ballet, lyric splendor

            with riddle, scriptural commentary with tall tale —

               but

            skip back over before Homer

 

            “it was dirty joke

                        as primal scripture. For instance”

   Here

              he had

                     his

                         mind’s

                                   dream of the

      guitar player’s conversation

                       overlapping      

the basic broad dream space made by

        the harp’s imitation of their music

                                                                “For instance,

                                     the Sky’s         

                                                castration,

 

                        “that prime Titan, first father king—

            mate of Gaia, the Earth goddess herself—I’m talking about

                        the Sky    he came with        

            a hard on every night to Gaia . . .”

 

            The other guitar player

            interrupted — “it would seem like

 

            “Gaia

            was stuck with the missionary position

            what with her lover being the sky.”

 

            The bass player said, “Did you see

            how Jack’s hard on

            dipped

                        at the word castration?”

           

            “But this

first father,”

continued the other, “forced           all their offspring     back into the hollows

                        within Earth.               What could she do    pregnant,

more than a dozen Titans,    all her children   stuffed back inside her    their living quarters

inside her    more  of them always being engendered —    the discomfort!  

  Let Loretta Lynn sing about that!

She had to do         something.     She made

            a sickle    from iron that was within her     their son Kronos   used it to cut

            Sky’s dick off    one night when he stuck it in there    and Kronos flung

            the whopper flopper into sea green water.

                       

            The foam of the sea    white frothing    washed    around it   so lifely so lift

            its churning    lent life   and the blood ejaculating the wrong way was so hot it                

            cauterized the throbbing severed thing    It turned into back stroking

            long love girl     Aphrodite   That’s her origin    Where her titties    

stand out strong’s where the head of Sky’s prick swelled out from the shaft.”

 

 “I didn’t know that.”   “Jack’s prick is stirring again.”   “It can’t decide to

get hard again or not.”

   His cock’s

rising

and sleeping

entered into their conversation even as

that conversation invented its part of his

dream.

           

            “Really there were two

                        Titan generations

            who kept a lid on

                                    their own creation. Kronos

                        was worse even than his father. The Sky God had only

            stuffed his babies back into darkness;

                                                                        Kronos

                                                                          ate his!

 

                        but again they lived inside him—Zeus among them.

 Two generations of the generative force

                        withholding unfolding

                                                creation within them—stuck,

once in the mother once in the father—

                                                   Two generations opposing

            this layer out here of division and its

                                                            complications. You can’t

                                    completely

                        blame them, can you? Think of the purity

            of Jack’s yearning when he was a pilgrim in the wilderness alone with the harp,

then the simple physical presence of one woman and he’s captive again of pussy present

and pussy past.                                      

 

            “Not till Zeus’ victory did a father god allow    two legged thinking creatures

to move    out here into the light    whereinsoever they sprang up be  

turned loose     to spread    their own confusion out here

            in the open. They had a point! See what it comes to?”

 

 

            I bet Night liked that

 

 

It seemed to Jack’s dick in the dream there was a friendly otherness

inside the temperature inside the breeze

and this was more interesting than anything in the story

since the part about the big back stroking girl.

            “Why do you say ‘out here?’” The drummer

was saying. “I mean, right now

we are not ‘out here.’ We

            are having this conversation

`           in Jack’s dream. We don’t

            really see Jack till tomorrow. When

            Jack wakes up

            he

            will go

                        ‘out there.’

            We will just go

            out

            with the light.”

“Right,” said the guitar player, but he kept right on talking.

 “In another

      of their

stories

            of creation

there was, to start with,

     nothing but Night—a big

       big black

           bird, Night was then, with

                             wings ten thousand miles, maybe longer—

                                              big

                                          bird, called ‘Nyx’

             in Greek. She flapped

    so hugely—her own wings—they fanned

a wind so mighty it circled around all space and pressed up against her from behind

            held her tail feathers spread out

             penetrated

                        her and engendered

                                                within her

                                             a great silver egg .  .   .”

“I bet Night liked that,” the singer said. She did.

 Again, Jack’s wand was waving — from dream talk

windgineering —  

                         Maybe it had been hasty

to think the night could not cuddle

              on the big blanket in wine light.                                              

            “ .. .  .A great silver egg Nyx laid in the infinite lap of darkness. 

                                Eros

                        hatched

          first from this great egg and with                                 

 

             Eros out in the open it

                showed

 

             everything else

                        was already

                                            in

                             the egg all along just awaiting the uncovering. 

 

                        Did the Greeks argue, like protestants, which

of these was true, or did the stories just

coexist like two movies—the Stallone version

and the Swartzennegger version?          

See, both stories, tho they

            contradict each other, agree. Eros

                                                or Aphrodite—sexual love—

                                has to be in the picture for there to be a picture

 

                                    for there to be

a down here, an out there,

at all.”       

 

 

            bound to dance      

 

 

 Wind still played within

the oil sheen

  on his cock    

His sensation     in his dream

  had crawled out clear into the drip of oil

  about to drip off the urethra back over the whole of the head.

And from there

                                on

                                  out

                                 into

the breeze that nuzzled it.

Being tethered breeze his sensation could move

around now out of his body, a few

inches above it    but his dream got confused

  Now it thought

     the jabbing thing

was a fire fly yonder the size of an owl dancing to the music

dipping under the tree lines and up into the sky again

where ever the sound placed it     now it was 

the thrusting of

Gaia’s saturated clitoris

heaving at Sky as if Venus still swung from his loins. In dreams you

can do that, he thought but he was vexed how the goddess heaving

could direct the music that directed the giant lightning bug’s flying and them

be at the same time the same motion.

He just let it go. No one would test him,

at least not tonight, on the source of the sound that made

the space for the words to happen in.

 

“It’s certain either version is naughty.

On the other hand

            in the Hebrew

            Genesis . . . . .”

 

“What’s that?” the singer asked

“I think it’s a woman,” the bass player said,

“coming into the tent. She’s,  yall look, she’s

taking

her dress off.”   

            “She is, isn’t she? In the Hebrew, gender division

            is not needed for creation

            just the

            word — like Ra

creating himself  by speaking his name out of chaos—

 

    the feminine in this line is an afterthought. Even the animals

            are made before woman.”

 

             “ No, no—” the singer interrupted—

            ‘a great

            darkness . . .”

“What’s she doing?” “It looks like she’s

going down on him!”

                                          

              “and ain’t it

                     a meeting—

after all

 the spoken

                  notion

            against the

nothing?    

         the materials

 

                 for the material world,

            somehow inside nothing,

  shaken by the

saying, jump

 

when it says

            ‘be something.’”

“’Light,’” said the singer. “It said ‘light.’”

The other guitarist said,

“Look boys,

Gaia

finally got on top.”

 

“Jack!”

 

     When the first wave of his coming

            was over he shivered sky sized echoed trumpets

but he shivered too soon. A second

            cargo powered

            the joy thru—so much of it a widening of capacity

was forced causing a secondary pleasure perpendicular

to the pleasure of its passing.

 

“Jack!”

 

Jack hears the drummer in the band

directly address him, “Jack, if I were you

I’d go back out the other side. No disrespect

to John Keats intended but I think

you are better off out there with your breath in your face

while this is happening and

you won’t be able

to back up and do it over.”

 

Jack was waking up to the sweet reality

a woman was on him and had him in her mouth

and coaxed sleep out of him on the up sup

and dipped him back in dream

on the down

till he was indeed

looking the air he breathed full in the face by the time the third wave

left him twisting limp and tender on the hillside in the moon light.

 

It could not be Gail because the breasts spread too wide

and too high above his knee. There wasn’t time now

to deny he had had that thought about his hostess.

He would have to do that later.

 

                        “You taste different.”

 

The harp—which Jack thought could no

longer surprise him—surprised him

by coming to his rescue. It used the voice again

which readers of Chapter 2

would recognize as Carl Perkins but Jack

thought of as ‘that one.’ Jack guessed

this voice was meant by the harp to make the woman think

Jack was Solomon.

                                    “Been eating strawberries,”

it singsang.

                        Like Carl Perkins.

 

“I didn’t know you could sound like that.”

 

Jack slipped and answered himself, “like what?”

 

“You know, like a peasant.”

 

“Oh, I can sound like a peasant,” Jack

heard the dig. The harp was teasing him doubly

moving dangerously close to dropping the disguise

from the voice altogether. What did the harp

have to lose? Come to think of it, what did he?

Why was he playing out his role in this apparent

deception? She was crawling up him kissing her way

toward his mouth, she paused at his nipple to nudge, then

the dark silhouette leaned up on its elbow

and touching with her pointing finger

his wet and wimpled cock, addressed it. “We’ll

get back to you later,” she said, then dived her mouth

at his, clearly nowhere near finished with him.

Surely the polite thing to do was to get thru this

and spare her embarrassment, and, anyway,

the activity was on course like a boat already shoved

and even if the water is shallow jumping out of the boat is—

he was puzzled why but it seemed powerfully so—not an option. 

It was like they were characters in one of the harp’s illustrations

externalized, images bound to dance to the big music.