from Caterwaul (Math Paper Press, 2016) Five forty-four am is not morning, no matter what Swede lightbulbs teach. Too far to tell tinnitus from cricket, racket from… Read more “Sentinel”
Sayang. What is precious, constantly with, as with mania, trying to get into (out of?) the nut of mind and demand: At first, a scrap of writing on a scrap of paper. Then, a fist of a napkin. Graduating to, snippets of sound on an iPhone because recording the air is trust. We were assured of the quality in the fork of the phrase: “We are the loves you forgot.”
On another such napkin at Secret Recipe Cafe in Plaza Singapura, a friend and co-conspirator asked me to explain my exercise in paraphrasing conversation for this piece. And how to plot what is precious, constantly with, just slipping off the tongue, into a 30 min musical and poetic experience.
The poem begins with someone calling her/his/they/their/it’s beloved from across some great space. The music begins with the how nowhere in the mass of the beloved’s imagination lies a constellation of her. How to plot a map of her desire without co-ordinates?
The ending is in that strange, rushed place, where in all the dreams, there are losses and cures.
Devised with Enec.e
Dramaturged with Charlene Shepherdson
A commission for the Singapore Writer’s Festival 2017 as part of the literary and musical collaboration, Cache, organized by the National Arts Council and The Esplanade, Theatres on The Bay
Originally posted on Eunoia Review:
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