COLTRANE'S DOUBTS
There appears to be a law - something about
music and pauses, cadence and rest. You can
hear it in the air around us, see it in the sky.
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It is by what we rule our lives. Not for nothing
is every latest thing called a labor-saving
contrivance. But haven't we outgrown that?
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This is, after all, the age of new stars -
theories of the planets and propounded odes.
Start from scratch; we have earned the world.
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Somewhere distant trumpets, and clarinets?
Somewhere else, a tympani of sound lacking
only definition. The horn-man, after all,
has his doubts.
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