Sunday, October 23, 2011

Something completely different

While attending a concert at the local philharmonic, we came across a couple of unusual phrases in the program guide:

"The piano plays short fragments that coagulate into the main theme of the finale..."

(Thank god the fragments coagulate; we certainly wouldn't want the finale to bleed to death)

"After the customary recapitulation, the composer launches an enormous coda..."

(Our cat has been known to launch an enormous coda from time to time)

A few scenes we came across during the weekend--

Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil?


As always, your comments welcome...

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Forget obviously sentimental Trout
Quintet measures -
how awesome that ducks repose
dreaming on a single
foot, stable
as any rest in
Schubert -
who wore oversized shirts a dandy
would favor -
so imagine shock where a Redbook woman that typical WASP
crosses our walking path
with such a shirt in a form of her blouse
dangling from a hanger like some ad for
sexy family values in the great
outdoors -
Call her gesture an opening
gambit in what might be "The Habitat Game"
that begins by drinking from two flower vases
unfiltered river water. As for an orchestra's
rhetoric, it is no more or less awkward
that a trout croaking The Trout
Quintet -
a bubbling finale that bursts too soon?

dive said...

What a strange and wonderful world you inhabit, Ms.M. Who knew that Boise had its own Surrealist community?
Wonderful photos and marvellous malapropisms. Thank you for starting my week with a startle and a giggle.

altadenahiker said...

Oh, ducks. You had me at ducks.

"From troubles of the world I turn to ducks,
Beautiful comical things
Sleeping or curled
Their heads beneath white wings
By water cool,
Or finding curious things
To eat in various mucks
Beneath the pool,
Tails uppermost, or waddling
Sailor-like on the shores..."

Frank Harvey

Ms M said...

Anon, excellent poem! I think you actually encompassed everything.

Dive: Yes, it was a surrealistic weekend. Maybe it was misplaced energy zinging around after the university football game, or the premonition of an oncoming cold front.

Altadenahiker, I love the poem you posted! It really fits.