letra de inflammatory writ - joanna newsom
oh, where is your inflammatory writ?
your text that would incite a light; ‘be lit’
our music deserving
devotion unswerving
cried; ‘do i deserve her?’
with unflagging fervor
well, no we do not, if we cannot get over it
but what’s it mean when suddenly we’re spent? – tell me true
ambition came and reared its head and went – far from you
even mollusks have weddings
though solemn and leaden
but you dirge for the dead
and take no jam on your bread
just a supper of salt and a waltz through your empty bed
and all at once
it came to me
and i wrote in hunch ’til four-thirty
but that vestal light
it burns out with the night
in spite of all the time that we spend on it
om one bedraggled ghost of a sonnet
while outside the wild boars root
without bending a bough underfoot
oh, it breaks my heart – i don’t know how they do it
so don’t ask me!
and as for my inflammatory writ?
well i wrote it and i was not inflamed one bit
advice from the master
derailed that disaster
said; ‘hand that pen over to me, poetaster!’
while across the great plains
keening lovely & awful
ululate the last great american novels
an unlawful lot left, to stutter and freeze floodlit
but at least they didn’t run, to their undying credit
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