Cmon You know the drill he said
vacuously she looked up into his
face as only a child could(or the poker-face Easter Island moai)
to
words that held no content context or meaning
words
nothing more than sounds
nothing more than sounds
as if he were a barking dog
a cat meowing
singing a birds song
very much he considered like the music he was listening to when her
mother stopped her off for a couple hours while she ran some errands at
breakneck speed to be back in time to grab her up to make an early afternoon pediatricians
appointment
the music and songs of Mali
singers Nigerian Brazilian Sufi and Urdu poetry
for all he knew these performers
may have been singing to him
Cmon You know the drill
Cmon You know the drill
and while he couldnt share or
possess the childs vacuousness their
words were no more than another layer atop or woven between the music slipping
into his ears as were the odd sounds of
the unique instruments their cultures fashioned and they had perfected and
tantalisingly performed
Music
Music
Music
held up in the thin cool air circulating
throughout the livingroom on clothespins of inspiration passion and conviction
the child tilted her head to one
side
she sat moving her body ever so
slightly to the music and songs beat
the drill he referred to was her
coming inside the house
the lazy bums hadnt gotten up
yet out his bed and laid curled together at its foot warmed in sunlight
he told her he was always
surprised he didnt boot them to the floor in the middle of the night he was a restless sleeper
then they would play puzzles hed
read to her and a little later theyd share a treat(Dont tell your mother he warned smiling
-- but he let her keep her cute
little moustache to betray them as she was his to spoil on these occasions) of cold
Whole milk(children needed fat for their brains to develop well) and two cookies
apiece
no matter how small he made them
they always seemed huge in her hands
one in
each hand
she must have thought she worked him with her baby blues
Very good he said(smiling inwardly) and held a plastic colored cup to her lips so
she could take a sip as he cautioned
Small sip honey a small sip I dont
want you to choke or gag while her hips in
her chair were moving to the music her
backbone swaying rubbery her
small shoulders rotating forwards and backwards
hed catch himself imitating her
or she was imitating him
he danced in his chair too
to
the music and songs which communicated themselves without words he understood
1742, Day-between-Two-Ts, 30 9.
15
