tue22dec98
		(a run-at-the-mouth music & marry-money stuff prose pome)
		-----------------------------------------------------------

		tuesday, twenty-second of december.

		i'm getting the hang of the white keys on the piano
		for some very simple yet powerful serialist music.
		it is serialist because i play like a lathe -- a cord,
		the same thing, like a forkball in baseball, held with
		just two fingers, index and middle -- shifted an octave.
		intermittently.  it sounds vaguely renaissance or now.

		then i shift less than an octave and play in unison again.
		then back to the basis vector chord, the forkball.

		i don't know which keys are which but it sounds spine-
		shivering.  i'm fantasizing that my neighbors are finding
		excuses to throw out garbage and thus get a closer listen
		to my electrifying eel music.  cuz that is what it is.

		music for women to go mad for me for.  there might be one
		too many fors in that line but who cares.  music to luv marek
		by.  well, here is wishing for the love at slight and
		customary delay -- in the so-called living room, of which i
		have plenty, i assure you.  freedom means having nothing 
		scheduled at exactly the same times.  and no phone calls!!!

		have me a postcard driven home from montreal
		resting on the piano where music customarily lies in sheets

		it shows two scenes,
		a golden parkscape in maple fall, a downy snowy street

		on one white card, signed "montreal" with an accent mark.
		it is no longer a joke of mine that this is my music, 
		resident on the piano -- autumn for kristie, winter for
		martina.  it is.  the landing beacon theme for my gurtrix,
		asia, completes my musical three-leggedness.

		no, i am not mad or fanciful.  this is all necessary
		ingredients.

		it is hard work working to get married to three women at
		synchronicity in
		nearly glacial time frames
		on global custom and privacy scales
		and by word
		of mouth alone!

		two of whom don't know it yet.  or so i must concede as
		likeliest.

		i stake my dead-serious exhilaration on
		principles of common decency which are:
		meritorious pursuits get listened to
		it is meritorious to to make people happy.

		hey.  i am people too.  veritable multitudes.  and i make
		others happy.  just picture our distributed globular little
		marriage in consular offices of our respective countries.
		exasperation has never snared as tightly as my plan would.

		c'mon.  the masochism throes of the bureaucrat are nearly
		alone worth it.  won't you help?  not exactly sure how...

		possibly as stand-ins for target practice?...  it's all

		biathlon:  the targets are black on white, paper, just
		like sheet music.  and the playing is most exacting, just
		like the shooting, just like skiing.  staccato.  glissando.


			Marek Lugowski
			24 December 1998
			Cincinnati, Ohio


++ (pronounced plus-plus, meaning add 1): we are all wives, me too.