Excitement!

Not a lot is going on. In a week or so, many Austin shows will be happening. For now, it's just a little downtime and some rest.

I must have spent too much time in Fort Worth, because the chemical urge to return home bled out of me somewhere. I didn't get to go straight from the road to my Austin home; there was a purgatory period in between. I missed that nice flood of relief, also the smell and the apperception of objects carefully arranged by myself, the one of three weeks ago. My pre and post tour selves are beginning to get along better, because the pre tour guy always cleans the room up nice so I don't come back exhausted, then suddenly confronted with my own filth.

Lorca has been a favorite of mine since returning. I like reading his poems in Spanish. I used to say to hell with every other language. Seems to me that English has a simple, squared beauty that other languages miss. That might be a misconception. Or more nearly - every language has a distinct shapeliness and a loveliness of its own.
Like this one line from G.G. Lorca in English and Spanish

A flock
of captive birds
moving their long long
tails in the gloom.

Una bandada

de pájaros cautivos,
que mueven sus larguísimas
colas en lo sombrío.

And the full poem in English:

Landscape

The field
of olive trees
opens and closes
like a fan.
Above the olive grove
a foundering sky
and a dark rain
of cold stars.
Bulrush and penumbra tremble
at the river's edge.
The gray air ripples.
The Olive trees
are laden
with cries.
A flock
of captive birds
moving their long long
tails in the gloom.

Let the Spanish version swirl around in your mouth like a nice taste of wine, or take both and consume them together, like a bit of wine and a nice inhale from a good cigarette. Too bad a couple of Franco soldiers had to brutally murder our boy Lorca. Sometimes you can't expect poems to reach out and grab you. You must oblige and follow them in.