Jarrett

Future his head dips into every chance,

Standards oiled with touchstone and devil cares.

One-time two-time uptown and micro-scares

Wears goodtime sneakers his on-the-spot dance.

Present his hands reach half-yes half-okay

Notion becomes entanglement city

Industry and wish and something pretty

Or just a window to throw a bouquet.

Like now when traffic has gone to sleeptime

Freeways waltz-time scarcely a flourish

Now too gold old avenues of deep time.

Stay at home order plays favourite subjects

Inescapable whatever finish

Record company ‘Likes’ into objects.

Window Series. The single window of the cottage. This tribute to European photography repeats the trope of having a wall or window or ceiling that has been infiltrated by nature from the outside. The cottage in question is our inherited two car garage, never used as a garage but converted into an artist workshop and library. The brown vertical object is the fallboard of a WERTHEIM MELBOURNE piano inherited from I know not where. The poem is the start of a tribute series to pianist-composers. Our house has been full of piano music for weeks.