Day's rides

I rode past the neighbor lady with the two dogs who always bark at me but who I bet are very sweet at home where they’re comfortable. She said good morning to me and I said it back and I rode through the heat like swimming.

I rode in the heat of lunchtime back home under the stippled shadows of the trees on my street. I was afraid again vaguely for my life as cars passed in the lane next to me or worse in the same lane. I wear my helment always but I know a collision at speed would render it mostly meaningless.

I wanted to ride down to the lakes to feel the wind on my face and the musculature of my body but I did not. I told myself it was due to the heat but I think it may be another reason namely that I am nervous to be seen out riding my bike. What if I am called to I ask myself by someone who I haven’t seen in some time and who tells me that I’m really not who they thought I was. Where will I ride to get away from that.

I rode home and brought the bike up the steps to the porch. I unlocked the door greeted the dogs put my bike at the window to display it greeted the dogs again properly and sat down on the couch to scroll through my phone. Traveling online has taken the place of traveling through space on my bike. I tell myself that’s okay but is it.


There is a place
it’s full of beans
and it squeezes you gently
when you get in
it’s like a swimming pool
full of beans
it is a swimming pool full of beans
A metaphor is a four-letter
word that changes into another
four-letter word. There
is no other way to say it
than that one. Beans and
swimming pools and quicksand
pouring in from the top of
the hourglass. Time passes
without anyone meaning it to
There is a place toward
the meat of the poem where suddenly
it becomes apparent that
it’s really about what it’s
really about and not beans or
pools or hourglasses or metaphors
They drop away or unspool
and suddenly they become clear
stark as in stark naked
and there it is
                    the plain fact
that time plods on
in its way unceasingly
no matter
what you may think
no matter what
you may want to do instead
it keeps dripping
into the bedpan
of the past

Minuet in F major, (K. 2)

Oops! I forgot to post this yesterday (the true Mozart Monday); I guess this week we have Mozart Tuesdays. And so soon in the series! I’m sure this is the least of the hangups I will encounter.

This is the longest piece yet by young Wolfgang, with the playthrough I listened to clocking in at 48 seconds. It’s a fun little piece, with a theme that includes a bit of dissonance that’s disarmingly charming. The second part starts with a weirdly dissonant thing as well, which surprised me when I heard it.

That being said, it’s really a one-trick pony. It’s just that theme moved up and down the scale with a little variation in the fourth through eighth bars and maybe a little minor variation later? Anyway it’s fine but I’m chomping to get to the longer better stuff.