TRANSUBSTANTIATION
I'm rampant and ready to kill.
Take Five is playing : I like the
sound. Dave Brubeck, and that
guy on the drums, man he could
really rip. Broken time, a random
run on percussion's own head. To
go where you want and answer for
nothing. Translating any of that into
words here sure isn't the answer, for
music is an inside thing - spiritual
in its way, as much as a bread oasis,
transubstantiated, I suppose, into
priestly dreams of little-boy's
knickers. And how do you
account for that?
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