Words in the Air

Production and Sound Design By Kevin Seaman   Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman

Production and Sound Design By Kevin Seaman   Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   I Am! BY JOHN CLARE I am—yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes— They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed   Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman 100th Episode   Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   The Fascination of What’s Difficult BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS The fascination of what's difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent Spontaneous joy and natural content Out of my heart. There's something ails our colt That must, as if it had not holy blood Nor on Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud, Shiver under the lash, strain, sweat and jolt A...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Little Exercise BY ELIZABETH BISHOP for Thomas Edwards Wanning   Think of the storm roaming the sky uneasily like a dog looking for a place to sleep in, listen to it growling.   Think how they must look now, the mangrove keys lying out there unresponsive to the lightning in dark, coarse-fibred families,   where occasionally a heron may undo his head, s...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Misery and Splendor BY ROBERT HASS Summoned by conscious recollection, she would be smiling, they might be in a kitchen talking, before or after dinner. But they are in this other room, the window has many small panes, and they are on a couch embracing. He holds her as tightly   as he can, she buries herself in his body. Morning, maybe it is evening, l...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   The Forgotten Madmen of Ménilmontant after Jacques Prévert   Do not look sadly at days gone by days below days like a river running under the stars Do not listen to the blues or speak often with priests Do not think the rich women enrolled in the college of nightfall will always smell the same way   Everytime the tree works the leaves dream   Everytime...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman     Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Phrases BY ARTHUR RIMBAUD TRANSLATED BY WALLACE FOWLIE When the world is reduced to a single dark wood for our two pairs of dazzled eyes—to a beach for two faithful children—to a musical house for our clear understanding—then I shall find you.        When there is only one old man on earth, lonely, peaceful, handsome, living in unsurpassed luxury, then...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   The Truth the Dead Know By Anne Sexton For my Mother, born March 1902, died March 1959 and my Father, born February 1900, died June 1959   Gone, I say and walk from church, refusing the stiff procession to the grave, letting the dead ride alone in the hearse. It is June. I am tired of being brave.   We drive to the Cape. I cultivate myself where the su...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   To Elsie BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS The pure products of America go crazy— mountain folk from Kentucky   or the ribbed north end of Jersey with its isolate lakes and   valleys, its deaf-mutes, thieves old names and promiscuity between   devil-may-care men who have taken to railroading out of sheer lust of adventure—   and young slatterns, bathed in fil...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Ode on Solitude By Alexander Pope Happy the man, whose wish and care   A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air,                            In his own ground.   Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,   Whose flocks supply him with attire, Whose trees in summer yield him shade,                            In winter fire.   B...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Mystery and Solitude in Topeka BY MARK STRAND Afternoon darkens into evening. A man falls deeper and deeper into the slow spiral of sleep, into the drift of it, the length of it, through what feels like mist, and comes at last to an open door through which he passes without knowing why, then again without knowing why goes to a room where he sits and wa...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Nocturne BY LOUISE GLÜCK   Mother died last night, Mother who never dies.   Winter was in the air, many months away but in the air nevertheless.   It was the tenth of May. Hyacinth and apple blossom bloomed in the back garden.   We could hear Maria singing songs from Czechoslovakia —   How alone I am — songs of that kind.   How alone I am, no mother, n...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   Soon by Joe Bolton Soon, these great stadiums will be empty, Standing coolly at twilight, lit only By the twilight, and there will be no sound, No echo, and no memory of sound.   Soon, these mansions along North Boulevard Will fall into disrepair, then will fall, Their foundations given over to grass Under the vaulted naves of the live oaks. These free...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman Pillow By Jana Prikryl How solitary and resolute you look in the morning. A stoic in your cotton sleeve. Do you dream of walking out   rain or shine a truffle balanced on your sternum and passing me on the sidewalk? Or is that a smile   because you interpret nothing and statelessness is where you live? How calmly you indulge my moods.   See you tonight,...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman SMOKE By Philip Levine Can you imagine the air filled with smoke? It was. The city was vanishing before noon or was it earlier than that? I can't say because the light came from nowhere and went nowhere. This was years ago, before you were born, before your parents met in a bus station downtown. She'd come on Friday after work all the way from Toledo, an...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   4 A.M. by Kenneth Fearing It is early evening, still, in Honolulu, and in London, now, it must be well past dawn; But here, in the Riviera Cafe, on a street that has been lost and forgotten very long ago, as the clock moves steadily toward closing time, The spark of life is very low, if it burns at all.     And here we are, four lost and forgotten cust...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   The Pomegranate By Eavan Boland The only legend I have ever loved is the story of a daughter lost in hell. And found and rescued there. Love and blackmail are the gist of it. Ceres and Persephone the names. And the best thing about the legend is I can enter it anywhere. And have. As a child in exile in a city of fogs and strange consonants, I read it f...

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman   The Whole Mess ... Almost BY GREGORY CORSO I ran up six flights of stairs to my small furnished room   opened the window and began throwing out those things most important in life   First to go, Truth, squealing like a fink: “Don’t! I’ll tell awful things about you!” “Oh yeah? Well, I’ve nothing to hide ... OUT!” Then went God, glowering & whimpering i...